Stepping inside, Alexander felt a rush of warmth as the doors closed behind him with a heavy thud. The air inside the room was thick with the scent of old parchment, candle wax, and something else—something metallic and faintly sweet, like blood. Torches lined the walls, casting a flickering orange glow over the stone floors. The hallway stretched on into the distance, branching off into numerous corridors and staircases. It was a labyrinth, a maze of stone and shadow that seemed to shift and change with every step he took.
Eventually, he came to a large chamber, its walls lined with shelves upon shelves of ancient books and scrolls. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a dim light over the room. In the center of the chamber stood a large stone pedestal, and atop it rested a single, ornate book.
The book was bound in dark leather, its cover embossed with strange symbols that seemed to writhe and twist as Alexander approached. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out to touch it. The moment his fingers brushed the cover, a surge of energy shot through him, and the room around him seemed to blur and fade.
He stumbled back, his heart racing as the symbols on the book began to glow with a faint red light. The light pulsed rhythmically, like the beating of a heart, and Alexander could feel it resonating deep within his own chest.
"What… what is this?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Before he could react further, the doors to the chamber swung open, and a figure stepped inside. It was a tall man, dressed in dark robes, with a stern expression etched into his sharp features. His eyes, however, were what caught Alexander's attention—pale, almost colorless, and piercing, as if they could see straight through to his soul.
"You shouldn't be here," the man said, his voice cold and commanding. He stepped forward, his gaze never leaving Alexander's. "This is no place for someone like you." Alexander opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"You've touched the book," the man continued, his tone softening slightly. "That changes things."
"What… what is this place?" Alexander finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.
"This is the lost continent," the man replied, his eyes narrowing. "A place of great danger."
Alexander swallowed hard, his mind racing. "I didn't choose to come here. I don't even know how I got here."
The man studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Very few do. The Academy calls to those it deems worthy—or those it wishes to test. It seems you have been chosen."
"The book?" Alexander said, his thoughts flashing back to the charred parchment he had found.
The man nodded, his expression grave. "There are forces in this world that are more ancient and older. The Blood is one of them. It is both a gift and a curse."
Alexander felt a chill run down his spine. "What do I do?"
"Survive, and find the Academy of Magic." the man said simply. "Remember: There are those within these walls who would see you fail, who would take what you have for themselves. Don't trust people easily, and beware the Blood."
With that, the man turned and strode out of the chamber, leaving Alexander alone with the pulsing book and the weight of his words. Alexander stood there for a long moment, staring at the book, his mind a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and curiosity. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into, but one thing was clear—He had been reborn, not just into a new world, but into a new life, one filled with dangers and mysteries he could scarcely comprehend.
The man's warning about the Blood and the dangers that lay ahead echoed in his thoughts, but he had no choice but to press on. As he walked, the fog that had enveloped the forest began to lift, revealing more of the landscape. The trees were ancient, their bark cracked and gnarled, with branches that twisted together overhead, forming a natural tunnel.
The path soon led him to a small clearing, where the trees parted to reveal a stretch of open ground. At the center of the clearing stood a large stone obelisk, its surface covered in strange symbols and carvings that pulsed faintly with a blue light.
He approached the obelisk cautiously, his eyes tracing the patterns etched into the stone. The symbols were unlike anything he had ever seen before—geometric shapes intertwined with flowing lines, all converging at a central point that seemed to draw in the light around it. He reached out to touch the stone, feeling a strange warmth radiating from it, despite the cold air.
As his fingers brushed the surface, a surge of energy coursed through him, and the symbols on the obelisk flared brightly. Alexander jerked his hand back in surprise, but the light continued to pulse, growing brighter with each passing second. He took a step back, watching in awe as the obelisk began to hum, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate through the very ground beneath his feet.
The light from the obelisk intensified, and the symbols began to shift and change, rearranging themselves into a new pattern that Alexander could almost understand. Before he could decipher the meaning of the symbols, the light from the obelisk surged outward, forming a translucent dome that expanded to encompass the entire clearing. The hum grew louder, reverberating through Alexander's bones, and the air around him crackled with energy.
Suddenly, the light collapsed inward, converging on the central point of the obelisk. The symbols flared one last time before fading to a dull glow, and the hum gradually subsided into silence. The dome of light disappeared, leaving the clearing as it had been before—silent and still, with only the faint glow of the obelisk remaining.Alexander stood frozen in place, his heart pounding in his chest.
As he turned to leave the clearing, he noticed something new—the path ahead had changed. Where before there had been only the forest, there was now a narrow trail leading away from the clearing, flanked by towering stone pillars on either side. The pillars were similar to the obelisk, carved with the same symbols, and they seemed to hum faintly with residual energy.
After what felt like hours of walking, Alexander spotted a distant shape on the horizon—a dark silhouette against the purple sky. As he drew closer, the shape resolved itself into the outline of a large, imposing structure perched atop a rocky outcrop. The building was massive, its walls constructed from dark stone, with tall spires that reached toward the sky like claws.
This, he realized, must be the true Academy. The gate was made of wrought iron, its bars twisted into intricate patterns that mirrored the symbols he had seen on the obelisk. Taking a deep breath, Alexander pushed open the gate and stepped inside. The courtyard beyond was vast, its stone floor cracked and uneven, with weeds growing up between the gaps. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and a low mist clung to the ground, swirling around his feet as he walked.