The basement of the Magic Tower houses hordes of unidentified relics and untranslated magical texts. Most people hate going down there, between the disorganization and the darkness.
It's usually not so bad.
Usually.
But today, as I walk down the long, winding staircase illuminated only by the mage orb in my hand, a chill crawls down my spine. Despite the ominous atmosphere, I make it to the bottom floor in one piece.
The soft blue glow of the mage light illuminates the various artifacts and books stacked haphazardly across the giant circular room. Dust motes dance in the pale light, disturbed by my presence.
Shelves upon shelves line the walls, overflowing with tomes of every size and age. Some books look ancient, their leather covers cracked and pages yellowed. Others seem relatively new, their spines unbroken and bindings crisp.
In the center of the room, a chaos of objects litters the floor—strange metallic contraptions, stone tablets engraved with indecipherable runes, even what appears to be a petrified dragon's claw. It's a veritable graveyard of the arcane, each item whispering secrets of civilizations long fallen to dust.
My footsteps echo as I make my way through the maze of relics. A dull ache throbs in my chest, a reminder of the immense magical potential I'll never possess. While others might feel overwhelmed by such a concentration of power, I find solace when surrounded by remnants of a world I can never truly be a part of.
My mana source is barely greater than the common person. Despite being the thirteenth child of the only Archmage in our empire, I am little more than a servant to the Magic Tower, spending my days organizing and categorizing. The best days are when I get to work in the library, surrounded by all the arcane knowledge in our empire.
Reaching out, I trail my fingers along the spine of a particularly ancient tome, its title faded beyond recognition. The rough texture of the leather sends a shiver through me, as if the book itself holds some lingering essence of the unknown. I've looked through it before, but it's unable to be translated. The text is too faded.
Pulling my fingers away, I turn to focus on what I'm looking for. It doesn't take long to find it; I've spent a lot of time down here.
Grabbing a necklace with a milky-white stone pendant, I check the tag. Empress' Necklace of Fate. A small amount of mana hums from the stone, but it's impossible to sense what affinity lies within it. It doesn't matter, though—the Senior Researcher had run into mention of the necklace in the book he was translating, and he wanted to take a closer look at it. My only job is to deliver it.
Tucking the jewelry into the pocket of my robes, I turn to leave, only to find three strange adventurers standing in front of me. A scream rips from my throat before I can stop it.
They weren't there a few seconds ago.
The intruders jump back, and the one nearest to me puts his hand on his sword. The movement makes me flinch away, my heart pounding. What are they doing here? The basement is off-limits to all but Magic Tower personnel.
"Who are you?" I ask, trying to sound put-together and authoritarian. "This area is restricted."
The man with a sword strapped to his waist exchanges a look with his companions before stepping forward, still holding onto the pommel of his sword. He's smiling, but his green eyes are hard and calculating. His armor looks well-worn, and he moves with easy grace. If I wasn't afraid he would kill me, I'd spend a little more time admiring his handsome face. "We are players. Do you have a quest for us?"
Players? I'm unfamiliar with the foreign word they throw around so naturally.
I can't help but step back, clutching my hands to my chest. While they have yet to threaten me, there's an aura between them that instills fear deep into my bones. Their eyes are indifferent to anything I feel. Spare me or kill me, it changes nothing.
"This is a restricted area," I repeat, not even sure how to respond to their bizarre question. "Only employees of the Magic Tower are allowed here. Do you have an entry pass?"
A robed figure steps forward, a feminine voice drifting from beneath the shadows of her cowl. "We mean you no harm. We were simply exploring this place, and found ourselves here. If you have a quest for us, please tell us."
The fabric of my robes is soft against my fingers as I grip it, holding on until my knuckles turn white. I don't understand their obsession with a quest, but I have nothing to give them. "You can't be here. This is the sacred Magic Tower. No outsiders are allowed within these halls."
The third one steps forward. "She keeps repeating herself. She's probably going to alert the guards if we keep pushing her."
This one looms over all of us; he's even taller than the swordsman, and I stare in fascination. If I thought the swordsman was handsome, this one is divine. Is there a rule that invaders are supposed to be beautiful? He has no weapon on him that I can see, so I don't mind when he steps closer to me. Unlike the swordsman's armor, this man wears no armor. Instead, he has a long black coat that seems to distort the space around him. It's hard to focus on.
When he stops right in front of me, I almost have to fight the urge to reach out and touch his tousled black hair. I'm so focused on him that I almost forget he's an intruder.
"Damn, Gryphon. No matter how many times I see it, your charisma stat is no joke," the swordsman says, and I jolt out of my trance, stepping back once again.
Why was I so fascinated with the man? It's like a compulsion, and it unnerves me.
My heels knock against something, and I hear a soft clatter of something falling to the ground. My hands shake in terror, but I straighten my shoulders as I repeat myself, keeping my voice firm and steady. "I must ask you to leave."
They ignore me, and the swordsman pokes at the air in front of him a few times in a strange manner. "Hey, did you guys just get the subquest notification? Descendants of the Archmage? The rewards are pretty nice."
I flinch. I'm not sure what they're talking about, but now I know that they're looking for me. I'm the only descendant of the Archmage in this room.
The man named Gryphon is still staring at me. He reaches out a hand, and I duck away. He steps closer, and I try to step to the side, only to be stopped by his arm.
His hand rests against my hip, holding me in place as he invades what little personal space I have left. A wild flush warms my cheeks and a stutter interrupts the regular rhythm of my heart. For some reason, I've lost all motivation to escape. Even as a tiny part of my brain is screaming at me that it's the same thing that happened to me just a few moments ago and I should run, the rest of my brain is focused only on him.
Then he pushes the cowl of my robes off my head, exposing my blue hair—the proof of my lineage. My heart drops to my feet.
He looks back at his companions. "Blue hair, just like the quest says. Are we accepting the subquest?"
"Of course." The green-eyed man pulls out his sword, grinning. "The rewards are great. This dungeon is going to be amazing."
"Everyone get ready," the robed woman cautions at the same time, stepping back as flames gather in the palm of her hand.
I yank free of Gryphon's criminally seductive embrace when he looks toward his friends.
Without thinking twice, I bolt for the stairs, my heart pounding in a fierce, unsteady rhythm. I can't let them catch me—who knows what horrors these "players" have planned? But before I can take more than a few steps, a shadowy blade slices through the air, impaling me from behind.
A strangled cry tears out of my throat. Searing pain mingles with the dark energy emanating from the weapon pierced into my chest, causing me to stumble as I clutch at the wound in shock. Warm blood seeps between my fingers and the strange sword. It feels both solid and ethereal. The world tilts precariously, and I crumple to the cold stone floor in a daze.
Every breath is like electric agony stabbing through my lungs. My vision blurs and dims as waves of torment crash over me, each one more intense than the last. I can taste blood in my mouth, thick and coppery, as I fight against the blackness eagerly rushing forward to consume me.
"Easier than I thought it would be," the swordsman's voice drifts over me, sounding muffled and distant. "Didn't even get experience. She must be a low level. Is this a newbie dungeon?"
Heavy footsteps approach, and a pair of boots enters my blurred vision. I want to scramble away, but there's no strength left in my body. Then they pass on by, and I can hear the three of them going upstairs.
Ah, I should warn everyone.
But I can't.
It's too late for that.
Strange. I didn't think dying would be so fast. Even the pain that overcame me is starting to slide out of me with my blood, a strange numbness creeping through my limbs. My breath is little more than a rattle. The room around me seems to flicker and distort. There isn't enough energy in me to even feel regret.
So, this is what dying feels like. It's strange how peace comes so quickly on the heels of pain…
* * *
[You have died.]
[Activating Empress' Necklace of Fate. All requirements for Successor of an Incomplete Fate have been met.]
[You have broken free of the restraints of the Non-Player Character, A Blue-Haired Magic Researcher.]
[System Initialization: Player Synchronization.]
[Synchronization Complete.]
[Character customization complete.]
[Class selected.]
[Player Name: Aria Lucaris.]
[Welcome to Aeon Odyssey, Player. You will be transported to the tutorial.]
[In this life, you must fulfill your fate. A quest has been added to your quest log.]