In the center of the courtyard stood a large fountain, its waters still and stagnant. The statue at its center depicted a figure clad in robes, holding a staff aloft as if casting a spell. The figure's face was hidden beneath a hood, and its eyes glowed faintly with an otherworldly light.
As he neared the statue, he noticed something strange—the water in the fountain was not clear, but a deep, dark red, like blood. He recoiled in shock, his mind racing. This place was steeped in dark magic, and he was beginning to wonder if he had made a terrible mistake in coming here.
Before he could turn back, the statue's eyes flared brightly, and the air around him crackled with energy. The figure's staff began to glow, and the water in the fountain rippled and churned as if something was stirring beneath the surface.
The water in the fountain began to bubble and froth, and a figure slowly emerged from its depths. At first, it was nothing more than a shadow, but as it rose higher, its form became more defined—a tall, slender figure clad in flowing robes, its face hidden beneath a dark hood.
The figure stepped out of the fountain, its movements fluid and graceful, as if it were made of water itself. It raised a hand, and the water ceased its churning, settling back into the fountain as if nothing had happened.
The figure tilted its head slightly, as studying Alexander. "Wecome to the Academy." With that, the figure turned and glided across the courtyard, its robes trailing behind it like wisps of smoke. Alexander hesitated for only a moment before following.
The figure led him to a large, ornate door at the far end of the courtyard. The door was made of dark wood, intricately carved with symbols and runes that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light.
The figure raised a hand, and the massive doors groaned as they slowly creaked open, revealing a dimly lit interior. A rush of warm, stale air wafted out, carrying with it the scent of old parchment, burning candles, and something darker—something that made Alexander's skin prickle with unease. The figure stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, the doors swung shut behind him with a resounding thud, sealing him inside the Academy. The sudden noise made him jump, and he spun around, half-expecting the figure to follow him inside, but the entryway was empty. He was alone.
The hallway before him stretched into the darkness, its stone walls lined with flickering torches that cast long, dancing shadows. The corridor eventually opened up into a large chamber, and Alexander found himself standing in the center of a vast, circular room. The walls were lined with bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with ancient tomes bound in leather and metal. A grand chandelier hung overhead, its candles burning with an unnatural, cold flame that cast an eerie light over the room.
"What is this place?" he murmured to himself, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"The Library of Shadows," a voice said from the darkness, making Alexander startle. The voice was low and melodic, echoing off the walls as though it came from everywhere at once.
There was a soft chuckle, and the shadows in the corner of the room began to shift and coalesce, forming a figure that slowly stepped into the light. It was the same figure that had greeted him in the courtyard—the one that had emerged from the fountain. But now, the figure's hood was pulled back, revealing a face that was both beautiful and terrifying.
The figure was tall and slender, with pale, flawless skin that seemed almost translucent in the candlelight. Its eyes were a deep, swirling void, as if they contained the night sky itself, and its hair was long and flowing, a dark cascade that seemed to move of its own accord. The figure's lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no warmth in the expression—only cold amusement.
"I am a servant of the Academy," the figure said, its voice soft and velvety. "You, Alexander Graves, have been chosen by the consciousness of the Blood."
"What purpose?" Alexander asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. The figure's presence was overwhelming, filling the chamber with a tangible sense of power. He felt like a child standing before a god.
"For great evolution, of course," the figure replied, its smile widening. "And you, the carrier of blood power in this time, need to master the power that lies within you."
"The Blood," Alexander echoed, the word sending a jolt of fear through him. The robed man had warned him about it, but he still didn't fully understand what it meant. "What is the Blood?"
The figure's smile faded, and its eyes fanatic and awe. "The Blood is the source of all magic in this world. It flows through the veins of the earth, through the stones, through the air itself. It is the life force that binds all things together."
The figure's words were ominous, but they also sparked a deep curiosity and eager within him. If he could learn to control this power, to understand the mysteries of the Blood, maybe he could find a way back to his own world. Or maybe, he thought with a sudden, chilling realization, he didn't want to go back at all.
"Where do I start?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
The figure's smile returned, but it was a cruel, twisted thing, filled with jealousy. "You have already begun, Alexander Graves. The moment you touched the book, the moment you set foot in this Academy, you were marked by the Blood."
"Ugh! I hate this! Why couldn't it have been me?" The figure suddenly went berserk, clawing at its own face with wild fury, its features twisted grotesquely as it shredded its skin, blood smearing across its hands. Upon spotting Alexander, it lunged at him with terrifying speed, its mouth gaping open, blood dripping from its teeth. But just as quickly, the figure collapsed to the ground, clutching its head in agony, writhing as if in unbearable pain.
Shaking with fear, Alexander stammered, "How do I do that?"
The figure, breathing heavily, slowly returned to its senses. Its voice became eerily calm as it pointed to a nearby door. "Go through that door. Enter the academy of this era. Learn, and master."
With that, the figure stepped back into the shadows, its form dissolving into the darkness until only its glowing eyes remained. The figure's eyes flickered and then vanished, leaving Alexander alone in the chamber once more.
For a moment, he hesitated, fear gripping his heart. But then he thought of the world he had left behind—the betrayal of his loved ones, the mundane life of a math teacher, the endless cycle of days that had all blurred together. Here, in this strange and terrifying world, he had a chance to be something more, to learn things that defied explanation, to wield power that could reshape reality itself.
With that thought in mind, he took a step into the door, and the darkness enveloped him, swallowing him whole.