The director's study at the Royal Academy of Magic was a true sanctuary of knowledge and power. Mahogany shelves lined the walls, laden with ancient grimoires, yellowed parchments, and mystical artifacts shimmering with an ethereal glow. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting a soft, warm light that danced on the intricate Persian rugs covering the marble floor.
At the center of the room stood a massive oval table of solid oak, its legs carved in the shape of guardian dragons. Around this table, the high mages of the academy were gathered, their faces solemn and attentive. Each mage wore elaborately embroidered ceremonial robes, adorned with esoteric symbols gleaming subtly with subtle magic. Finely crafted leather seats accommodated these figures of authority, all focused on Director Alaric Beaumont.
Alaric, a man with a long silver beard and piercing eyes, stood at the head of the table. He exuded an aura of wisdom and power that commanded respect. His gaze swept across the room, observing each face with keen attention. Behind him, a towering stained glass window depicting the academy's foundation allowed sunlight to filter through, bathing the room in colorful light.
Ancient maps and magical measuring instruments were scattered across the table, evidence of intense discussions and ongoing research. Crystal spheres floated gently above the table, projecting holographic images of recent discoveries.
The high mages waited in silence, their eyes fixed on Alaric. The director, hands resting on the table, took a deep breath before addressing them. "My friends, we are here to discuss a discovery that could change our understanding of the world. The details we have are fragmentary but sufficiently alarming to warrant this extraordinary meeting."
Each word resonated in the room, and the mages leaned forward slightly, eager to grasp every piece of information. The tension was palpable, the air charged with anticipation and expectation.
"I believe everyone here is already aware of the discovery of the ruins south of Lionnes." began Alaric, his voice carrying a gravity that captivated all present. "The subject of our meeting focuses on this discovery. An hour ago, Dr. Adrien Leclerc and his apprentice, who were tasked with exploring this ruin, came to inform me of what they found."
The murmurs ceased immediately, the high mages straightening in their seats. The exchanged glances conveyed both curiosity and concern. Dr. Leclerc's reputation was well-established, and if a discovery had prompted Alaric to convene an emergency meeting, it must be of paramount importance.
Alaric continued, his piercing gaze scanning each face in the room. "Dr. Leclerc described a finding that could reshape our understanding of history... and perhaps even the world. The details are troubling and require thorough analysis and a fitting response from us."
"The first certainty is that this ruin dates back to a time before or overlapping with the Mu civilization." Alaric announced, his voice steady yet betraying a hint of tension.
A sense of astonishment rippled through the assembly. After all, remnants predating the Mu civilization were legendary, with scarce mentions in the archives.
Master Theobald, visibly puzzled, spoke up: "Why or how would one create a ruin inside a mountain?"
A mage next to him replied : "Perhaps the mountain formed naturally afterwards, or was created by a spell?"
He continued without giving Theobald time to respond : "This could testify to the age of this ruin. The Kingdom of Lionnes is a thousand years old, the Mu civilization three thousand, and the period between them was filled with sporadic wars."
A female mage with silver hair and piercing eyes, dressed in a deep blue robe embroidered with golden runes, spoke up : "That's surprising. It could indeed add shelves to our library, but I suppose it's not the most urgent matter, is it?"
At her words, the murmurs ceased. All eyes turned back to Alaric, who nodded in the direction of the mage, Master Elara.
"Indeed, Master Elara." he continued. "During their exploration of the ruins, they discovered something even more terrifying than I find hard to believe myself, to be honest."
The director continued : "They discovered a human presence inside, a presence that seemed alive."
The mages in the room exchanged astonished looks, but Alaric went on : "Before the mountain collapsed, it would have been impossible for anyone to enter or exit. It's as if it was deliberately sealed."
Master Elara, frowning, was about to react, but Alaric, anticipating her thoughts, gave her a look and continued : "I know what you're thinking: could a teleportation spell explain this? But according to Dr. Adrien, there were no symbols on the floor or walls. Nothing to suggest this individual comes from our time."
The director continued : "Furthermore, no mud traces on the floor, ruling out the idea that he entered before our men. No oil lamp beside him, and the doors were as dusty as Alistair's grandmother."
Although the director's joke was familiar to all, it passed almost unnoticed, so focused were they on the seriousness of the news. Their minds were absorbed by the puzzle posed by this discovery, leaving little room for humor at this moment.
Master Theodore interjected : "You didn't mention how their encounter went, Mr. Director."
The mages nodded, turning their curious gaze towards the director.
The director continued : "According to Dr. Adrien, they tried to communicate, but the person did not react and remained in a meditative position, facing away from them. They judged it safer to return and inform us rather than risk an error that could cost them their lives."
Master Elara nodded, acknowledging their students' lack of arrogance. She knew it was through constant effort that she and her predecessors had instilled essential values in the researchers of the Royal Academy.
The director added : "Furthermore, the diffusion orb is now guarded by knights who are monitoring the ruin."
A middle-aged mage, very muscular, stepped forward : "What's certain is that this person or the civilization behind them holds a secret that extends lifespan through hibernation. We must keep the secret of this ruin, at least until we have relevant findings in hand."
Director Alaric Beaumont, imposing in his mage robe, watched attentively as this muscular and imposing man, Master Donovan, stood among them, a striking contrast in his mage robe, muscles taut beneath the fabric.
Alaric nodded to Donovan. "Indeed, Master Donovan. I had the same thoughts. I would like you to conduct your own investigation with Master Theodore."
"Also, I believe each of you understands the importance of this matter as senior members of the Royal Academy."
Before anyone could respond, he continued firmly : "I will ask each of you to swear an oath to the treasure of our academy."
At these words, the faces of the mages present darkened. The recent theft of a major artifact had sown mistrust within the academy, even calling into question some of the senior ranks. Despite the palpable tensions, no one refused the director's request.
"You can settle the details with Master Alistair later. He will handle your oath." Alaric concluded, pretending not to notice the shadow of concern on his colleagues' faces.
Elara, captivated by the prospect of seeing with her own eyes this ancient being discovered by Adrien, was preparing to join the expedition. But the director, knowing her impatience well, cut her off before she could express her desire. "No, Master Elara," he began in a gentle but firm voice. "The academic exams are approaching. As chief mage of the secondary tower, you cannot afford to miss them. Besides, I have already sent two senior mages. If we send more, rumors will spread throughout the kingdom."
Elara lowered her eyes, disappointed but grateful for the director's wisdom. Before she could reply, Alaric, with a teasing glint in his eye, added : "Of course, I plan to deploy the Celestial Mirror."
At these words, a wave of excitement swept through all the mages present in the room, except for Theodore and Donovan. The Celestial Mirror was a legendary artifact, capable of leaving a unique trace on a person and broadcasting live whatever they saw, no matter where they were.
It was a precious gift from the Southern forgers, a token of gratitude for the help the director had provided in eliminating a threat that coveted their talents. This gesture symbolized a strengthened alliance between the Royal Academy and the artisans of the south.
Seeing the excitement fill the room, the director spoke again with calm authority "Now, go to Master Alistair to swear your oath. Theodore, before you prepare, come to my office so I can apply the trace of the Celestial Mirror to you. As for the rest of you, once Theodore and Donovan are near the ruin, I will send you a notification on your tokens."
The mages nodded in understanding and respect. Once all the mages had left the room, the director slumped in his chair, his face showing deep concern. He murmured quietly, almost to himself "Is this a calamity or a blessing?"
This question haunted the minds of everyone present at the meeting.
***
On a main road, a black horse galloped courageously under Roland. It had been over an hour since he had been riding, but a growing sense of unease enveloped him.
He couldn't help but think of his young knights, whom he had trained with such care and attention. In this isolated region, he knew his apprentices were not safe from dangers, even though they were accustomed to the challenges of the wild lands. The accursed stray dogs of the endless forests posed a constant threat, but it was the enigmatic figure in the ruins that occupied his thoughts.
Roland's worries grew as the miles passed beneath his horse's hooves. If a terrien could read his mind at that moment, they would likely hear Roland asking himself "Why are knights always cautious? Because they bear heavy responsibilities!"
But the terrien might retort "Why are robots so calm? Because they have a processor for every thought!"
This reflects the idea that he could be compared to a robot with too many thoughts running on a single processor.
Shaking his head to focus on the road, Roland spotted ahead a sturdy man and a little girl dragging a blanket behind their cart. Intrigued, Roland approached slowly and began to make out a form lying in front of them. It was a disfigured, naked body of a man, missing a leg, the ground around him stained with fresh blood.
As the horse's gallop echoed, the sturdy man abruptly turned, his eyes filled with suspicion. Upon seeing the armor adorned with the crest of the Knights of Lionnes, his face hardened, eyes gleaming with barely concealed hostility. He shielded a determined little girl behind him.
Perplexed by this unexpected reaction, Roland dismounted cautiously. Regardless of his mission, he couldn't ignore the body lying at their feet, a citizen of Lionnes.
Before Roland could ask this father-daughter pair what had happened, he heard the girl behind the man cry out "It's you! You're the one who killed our friend!"
"Quiet, Melina!" The man ordered his daughter to be silent, though her hatred was evident in her eyes.
Growing increasingly perplexed by this accusation, Roland lowered his helmet and introduced himself "I'm not sure who you take me for, but I am Roland Vallière, a sacred knight of rank 7."
To emphasize his words, arcs of light swirled between his hands. Seeing this display of power, the sturdy man's suspicion lessened, and he apologized "I beg your pardon, knight. This man next to me was a knight who rescued us earlier when we were in trouble. We found him like this when we returned."
Upon hearing this, Roland approached the body. As he saw the face of the deceased, his eyes narrowed and his heart raced.
It was his own apprentice !
The face of his apprentice, once full of life and ambition, was now pale and frozen in an expression of eternal calm. The familiar features, once animated by determination, curiosity, and a thirst for beer, now seemed marked by a bewildering tranquility. Roland's eyes lingered on every detail, every battle scar that told a story of courage and learning.
His heart pounded in his chest, a tumultuous mix of emotions overwhelming him: shock, sadness, and a cold anger towards those responsible for this loss. He gently placed a hand on Tristan's shoulder, as if to reassure himself that this wasn't a cruel nightmare. Reality set in as his thoughts wandered through memories of their training sessions, their late-night discussions about honor and bravery.
A gentle breeze swept through the clearing, carrying with it the distant murmur of leaves in the trees. The heavy silence was broken only by Roland's steady breathing and the birdsong above. Facing the tragedy of losing a long-time companion, Roland stood there, absorbing the weight of this new reality.