2025-08-06 08:19:10The sun was nearly gone, its final red strokes disappearing into the horizon. Zarek Vonn gazed at the spires of the academy for the last time, then turned away. "Another day, and nothing yet," he said under his breath, squeezing his satchel tightly in his hand as the chill wind seeped through his meager robes. "How much longer can I keep pretending it'll change?"
His steps rumbled down the deserted street, lopsided and slow. "Everyone else is calling down fire, twisting water, splitting the accursed sky with lightning…" He kicked at a stray rock, and it went flying. "And I can't even light a candle."
Banners snapped overhead—fire, water, air, earth. Magic flowed like a crown on the city's head, proud and aglow. Even the runes beneath his feet throbbed softly, living with power. "It's everywhere. Around me. In the stones, the air… everyone but me." He shifted the satchel on his shoulder, feeling the strain. Books bulged from its seams—tomes on elemental theory, handwritten notes, diagrams he had studied until his eyes blurred.
“I’ve read every damn thing. Twice.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “If knowledge was power, I’d be a god by now.” Silence answered him, save for the whisper of the wind and the dull thud of his boots on stone.
“No spark. No gift. Just me.” He exhaled, long and quiet. “Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe I’m just too stubborn to stop trying.” His thoughts swirled, tangled with memories of today’s merciless taunts. Then the mocking voices broke through the dusk like knives.
"Well, if it isn't Arcvale's beloved ghost," Kellan Dross said, lounging against the darkened alleyway wall. Fire danced around his hands like serpents, the warm glow licking at the stone. "Straying in the darkness once more, Vonn? Afraid you'd succeed in finding some magic?"
The loud crack of laughter chased after him like a shadow. Kellan's friends, Therin and Gorran, stood beside him with self-satisfied grins—Therin's pale eyes sparkling maliciously, and Gorran's massive presence hovering like a thundercloud waiting to smash. Zarek's chest constricted. He braked but did not halt, trying to drift by unseen.
"Not so quick, dirt boy," Kellan taunted with a grin. "We have some loose ends."
Therin threw up his hand, launching a lash of water flying toward Zarek's legs. The cold hit like a whip, and Zarek lurched, catching himself against the alleyway wall by inches.
"Nice stunt," Zarek grumbled, low but even.
Gorran cracked his knuckles, advancing like a battering ram. "Let's see if you can fight as well as you read."
Zarek's heart pounded. He was outnumbered, outarmed—his one tool was desperation. He dodged beneath a savage swing from Gorran, the harsh scratch of rock rubbing his arm. He spun, thrusting a fist at Kellan's side, but the fire user sidestepped with ease, flames dancing higher in amusement.
"Cute," Kellan muttered, closing his fingers around Zarek's wrist in a swift jerk. "You’re trying, I’ll give you that."
"Trying’s not enough," Therin spat. "Not when you have nothing."
Zarek wrenched free, flailing wildly as adrenaline hit. He caught a fist on Kellan's jaw—hard and pointy—and time slowed. The flames danced uncertainly.
"Whoa!" Kellan grinned, wiping away blood from his lip. "Ow. You're less pathetic than I thought."
But then Kellan's flames blazed, a burning whip flashing toward Zarek's side. He hardly managed to twist out of the way, the fire burning his skin and scorching the hem of his robes.
Gorran struck a massive fist into Zarek's back, sending him slamming into the cold stone wall. Pain flashed through his ribs, breath frozen in a choking gasp. "Had enough?" he snarled.
“No,” Zarek rasped, pushing off the wall, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “I’m done running.”
Kellan’s grin turned feral. “Good. Because you’re about to learn the price of failure.”
The fight exploded into a frenzy of fists, flame, water, and raw survival. Kellan’s fire twisted and snapped with brutal precision, Therin’s water surged like icy blades, and Gorran’s earth-shattering strength crushed and battered with relentless force.
Zarek dodged and rolled, fought back with what little he had — swift blows driven by determination and sheer will. He hurt, ribs crying out in agony with each breath, and blood congealed in his eyes, but he would not give in. And then, in a moment of savage intent, Gorran stamped down upon Zarek's flung-out hand.
Crack!!
The gagging snap shut down everything. Zarek clenched hard to prevent screaming, vision blurring with tears of pain and anger.
Kellan knelt next to him, fire crackling perilously close to his bruised face. "Still breathing, huh? Let's take that away from you."
Zarek Vonn was strewn out on the courtyard floor, his blood mingling with dust and broken pages from the ripped books. Agony coursed through his frame like fire, each breath a blade stabbing in his ribs. Cold stone beneath his cheek as the world whirled around him, cold and uncaring.
Kellan loomed over him, flames dancing in his hand like a killing halo, eyes blazing with brutal satisfaction. “Still playing the noble failure, huh?” he spat. “You don’t belong at Arcvale, trash.”
Zarek coughed violently, blood bubbling at the edges of his lips, and barely managed to lift his head. “I didn’t… ask to be here,” he whispered.
Therin stepped closer, water shimmering faintly as he crossed his arms. “Exactly,” he said coldly. “You weren’t chosen by any element. You’re an accident.”
Gorran’s boot crushed down hard on Zarek’s broken hand again. The agony was excruciating, but Zarek didn't cry out. His body shook, but within, a chill of greater pain held him in its grip — the knowledge he could not escape.
"Why me? Why am I so pathetic? Why was I even born in the first place?"
Kellan's voice pierced the hush with wicked amusement. "You realize Dreadfall Cliff is just beyond the city."
He knelt beside Zarek, fingers stroking away a streak of blood from his cheek. "Why don't you do the world a favor and take the jump?"
Zarek's eyes fell to the bruised floor. He didn't reply.
Kellan rose, flames flicking higher. "Let's go. He's done."
Their laughter rang through the cold stone halls, dying as they walked away, leaving Zarek shattered, bleeding, and alone.
Zarek pulled himself through the dimly lit corridors of Arcvale, each footfall ringing with the ache of rejection. The guttering torchlight sent long shadows dancing on the rune-covered walls, but no hand came out to guide him, no voice provided solace. His jaw was bruised and swollen, his pride crushed like shattered glass. Outside the heavy academy gates, the night was quiet. The stars of Lystara twinkled dimly against the immense, uncaring sky. The chill night air gnawed at his skin as he walked past the old, weathered stone signs warning passersby from the edge:
DREADFALL CLIFF – FORBIDDEN
"Those who fall do not return."
"Magic dies here."
The wind screamed, bringing the smell of ancient stone and forgotten truths. Zarek stopped at the precipice, staring into the abyss. The black void yawned beneath him, endless and merciless.
The whispers began — harsh and relentless:
"No one’s coming to save you."
"You’ll never awaken."
"They were right about you."
Tears traced silent paths down his cheeks. The wind tugged at his robes, the stars watched silently.
“No one… ever believed in me,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Not even me.”
One step.
The ground vanished beneath him.
He fell.
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Chapter 015 – Serpent's Path
The serpent’s tunnel narrowed into a throat of stone, the walls pressing close like clenched jaws. The air grew blistering hot, thick with the stench of sulfur and scorched minerals, each breath clawing at Zarek’s lungs. Smoke clung to the rock like damp cobwebs, curling in slow, choking tendrils. He pressed forward, each step a battle against the heat that wrapped around him like a living thing. The walls pulsed with a dull, ominous glow—veins of magma threading through the stone like arteries, casting flickering shadows that danced like phantoms.It was as if he were walking deeper into the belly of a beast. The mountain breathed—a slow, rumbling exhale that vibrated beneath his boots. It growled in its depths, a constant, guttural sound that echoed through the tunnel, broken only by the sharp hiss of escaping steam. Zarek wiped the sweat from his brow, though it did little good; his skin was already slick, his armor burning hot against his back.Then he heard it.Not the groan of s
Chapter 014 – Ulmfang Mountains
The Ulmfang Mountains rose out of the void like the jagged ribs of some ancient titan, their peaks black and sharp, lost in storm clouds that never parted. No sun ever touched this place. The world here was stone, storm, and silence. Lightning arced across the cliffs in eerie silence, and the growl of thunder rumbled low in the mist, like the beastly breath of the mountain itself. The air was heavy with heat, as though the bones of the world burned beneath the rock. Each gust of wind carried with it the scent of scorched earth and ozone, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of distant ash. The sky above was a churning, bruised canvas of slate and smoke, crackling with energy that never released its fury fully—only hints like whispers. The mountains did not merely loom—they loathed. There was something in the silence that smothered sound, a weight that pressed into the chest and curled cold fingers around the heart. Every stone seemed placed with purpose, like pieces of a vast monume
Chapter 013 – The Serpent Sigil
The wheels of the carriage groaned beneath Zarek as it pulled away from the spires of Arcvale Academy, grinding over weatherworn stones slick with dew and old magic. The sound was rhythmic, almost hypnotic, like a chant murmured by the bones of the road itself. Morning mist clung to the ground in gauzy layers, curling around the base of the trees like fingers reluctant to let go. Behind him, the sunrise painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, as though the world itself bled light across the horizon. But Zarek did not look back. He couldn't afford to. If he looked, he might see his mother still whispering his name under her breath, might see Ren’s half-hearted grin faltering, or Aven’s eyes burning with all the words she hadn't yet spoken.And if he saw them, he might not keep walking.He clenched his jaw and pressed his palm harder against the worn seat, willing the ache behind his ribs to stay silent. This was not the time for doubt, or for mourning, or for anything soft.The Ac
Chapter 012 – I’ll Be Your Damnation
The iron doors slammed shut behind him like a judge’s final decree, sealing Zarek inside a chamber of nightmares. The sudden darkness pressed against his skin like a second, colder flesh, an invasive presence that seeped into his bones. His boots dragged across the tiles, slick with old blood, blackened chemicals, and something far fouler, a viscous slime that spoke of unspeakable experiments. Each step left red trails that vanished into the oppressive gloom of the maze of horrors around him. The silence was not empty. It breathed with the low hum of dormant machinery. It watched with the palpable weight of a thousand unseen eyes. It judged him for the sin of being alive within its profane grasp.Malrik’s private lab was no place for mortals. It was a cathedral of twisted science and desecrated magic, a perverse sanctuary where the boundaries of life were not just crossed but obliterated. Towering vats filled with churning blue ichor lined the walls, each one a prison for atrocities i
Chapter 011 – Cryo Wing Three
The double doors hissed open with a burst of steam and a hollow clang, like the exhale of a dying machine. Two armored guards shoved Zarek forward, their grip iron and merciless. He stumbled into the chamber beyond, his boots hitting the frostbitten floor with a loud crunch that echoed through the silent, frozen air. The doors sealed shut behind him with a metallic slam that sounded far too final. He was alone.The cold struck him like a weapon. Not the kind of cold that numbed the skin — this cold reached inside him, stabbing into his bones, sinking its claws into his spine. The walls were wrapped in creeping frost, spidering across the steel in patterns that pulsed with dim blue light. It felt less like a room and more like a tomb—ancient, sterile, and merciless. In the middle stood a towering cryo-tank, massive and cylindrical, humming with a low, almost mournful energy. Tubes slithered out from its base, burrowing into the floor like roots from a mechanical tree.Inside the tank,
Chapter 010 – The Steel Door
The heavy steel door slammed shut behind Zarek. The loud, metal sound broke the silence like a scream trapped in iron, echoing down the dark, narrow halls underground. This wasn’t just a door closing—it felt like his fate was being sealed. The air smelled of rust and old wet stone, the kind of smell that clings to your skin and reminds you of death. Zarek didn’t move. He leaned against the freezing concrete wall, the cold sinking into his bones like something alive, slowly eating at him. He breathed through clenched teeth, each breath tasting of mold, metal, and something sharp and strange—a scent he feared without knowing why. Even in the darkness, small flames danced around his knuckles. They gave off no warmth and brought no comfort. They flickered silently, like they were feeding on old memories, refusing to disappear—just like the past he couldn’t forget.The visions came back, as they always did—unwanted and cruel. He saw the villagers again. Their faces were frozen, lifeless an
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