On a very hot summer day, Principal Liora was sitting in her office inside the Academy of Magic. The sun outside stretched long moving shadows across the room, with light coming through the windows making patterns on the old stone walls. Inside, the air was heavy, almost stagnant, creating an atmosphere of suspended anticipation. She gazed out the window, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, when the door opened with a soft creak.
A mage, garbed in the distinct dark robes of a combat specialist, entered. His posture was rigid, his face showing both tiredness and seriousness. He stood before her, his presence altering the room's stillness.
"Principal Liora," he began, his voice carrying the weariness of a long and arduous journey, "the situation with your prodigy, Lynna, has been... contained." He paused, as if the word left a bitter taste. "It required several months and a joint effort between the Academy and the Kingdom. An elite request, quite costly. Honestly, we should have just gotten rid of her."
Liora's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of disapproval crossing her features. "That is none of your concern," she replied, her tone sharp as a blade. She leaned forward, her hands clasped together on the desk. "Tell me about the magic researchers. What have they found?"
The mage shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his gaze momentarily faltering before meeting hers again. He produced a sheaf of papers from beneath his cloak. "They have been investigating as soon as they could safely enter the area. Here is their preliminary report."
Liora took the report, her fingers brushing over the paper as she unfolded it. Her eyes quickly scanned the text, absorbing every word with a practiced speed. The report painted a picture of an event beyond the realms of ordinary understanding. The Twin-Forest Village and its surrounding areas, extending quite far, had been transformed in a way that defied explanation. Every color had been drained from the landscape, leaving the world in shades of gray, as if life itself had been leached from the very soil. The inhabitants stood like statues, frozen in time, their faces reflecting a strange mix of prosperity and petrification.
As she read, Liora's mind raced with the implications. This was no simple feat of magic; it hinted at something far deeper, a manipulation of the very essence of time. Her gaze drifted back to the mage. "And the villagers?" she asked, her voice steady yet tinged with concern.
"They remain as you read, Principal," he responded, his voice solemn. "Caught in a moment, unaging, unchanging. It's like they're part of a frozen scene, from a tale where time has stopped."
Liora leaned back in her chair, her thoughts a tumultuous sea. The situation was unprecedented, a puzzle that defied the laws of magic as they knew them. What had Lynna done, or what had been done to her, to cause such a cataclysm? And more importantly, why?
The mage stood silently, awaiting her response. Liora knew the answers to these questions lay with Lynna herself. The prodigy she had once taught, the mage she had believed in, was now at the center of a mystery that threatened the very fabric of their understanding of magic.
As the combat mage excused himself, leaving her to her thoughts, Liora gazed out the window at the bustling academy grounds. Students wandered the paths, lost in conversation or deep in thought, unaware of any of this.
Her gaze fell on a second report, thicker and more detailed than the first. Liora's fingers traced the edges of the paper, her mind gradually absorbing the gravity of the words inked on it. This report mentioned a name that had begun to echo ominously throughout the kingdom: Erytheis. Whispers of a 'god of calamity' resonated through the corridors of power and in the fearful murmurs of the populace. The rumors, initially dismissed as mere superstition, had grown roots, fed by the inexplicable happenings in the village. When these tales were probed, every trail, every whisper, every frightened gaze pointed back to letters from the Twin-Forest Village, penned just before the incident.
Liora sighed deeply, the air in her office feeling heavier than usual. Both incidents were obviously linked, the conclusion almost premeditated, she thought. The careful orchestration behind these events revealed a chilling level of foresight and manipulation.
Liora's thoughts then drifted to Lynna. Once a bright star in the firmament of the Academy, her talent and promise had been a beacon of pride for her mentors. Now, Lynna was confined within the rarely used cells of the Academy's dungeon—a place so hidden and forsaken that most students were unaware of its existence. The subjugation reports were disturbing; they painted a picture of a mage who had lost her grip on sanity, lashing out with lethal force at anyone who dared to enter the affected area. But now, locked away in the depths of the Academy, Lynna was said to be in a catatonic state, her once vibrant mind seemingly hollowed out.
A pang of sorrow tinged with regret washed over Liora. Was there something they could have done differently? Could they have foreseen this descent into madness? The answers eluded her, lost in the maelstrom of events that had spiraled far beyond their control.
Inwardly, Liora grappled with the weight of responsibility. She had chosen to mentor Lynna personally, recognizing her unique potential. The thought that such promise had culminated in this tragedy was unbearable. Liora refused to accept that this was the end of Lynna's life.
In the dimly lit corridors beneath the Academy of Magic, Principal Liora descended the narrow stone steps leading to the seldom-used cells. The air was cooler here, a stark contrast to the warmth of the summer day above. The sound of her footsteps echoed in the quiet, a solemn rhythm in the underground stillness.
Kingdom guards, loaned for special surveillance, stood sentinel outside the cells. Their presence, usually reassuring, felt oppressive in the confined space. As Liora approached the cell at the end of the corridor, her heart tightened. The reports had been alarming, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight that awaited her.
Inside the cell, illuminated by a single shaft of light from a high window, sat Lynna. Her appearance was a haunting shadow of the vibrant young mage she once was. Her hair, once a lustrous black, had turned an ethereal white, save for a single strand near her ear that cascaded down, stubbornly retaining its original hue. It was a poignant reminder of the person she used to be. Her skin, pallid and almost translucent, lent her the appearance of a porcelain doll, forsaken and forlorn. Her eyes, which once danced with life and curiosity, now stared vacantly ahead, bereft of the fire that once fueled her spirit.
Despite her state, as Liora approached the cell, a flicker of recognition seemed to pass through Lynna's eyes. It was faint, barely perceptible, but to Liora, it was a sign of the Lynna she knew, still there, somewhere beneath the surface.
With a gentle authority, Liora motioned for the guards to unlock the cell. They hesitated, their training cautioning against such actions, but a firm look from Liora left no room for argument. As the cell door opened, Liora stepped inside, her presence filling the small space.
She knelt beside Lynna, her cloak pooling around her. Gently, she reached out and enveloped the young mage in her arms. Lynna's body was stiff, unresponsive at first, but Liora held her firmly and kindly, a solid and warm presence in Lynna's broken life.
It's okay, Lynna. You are strong, stronger than you realize, Liora whispered, her voice a soothing balm in the oppressive silence. "I know you will find your way back. You are not alone in this."
In that embrace, time seemed to pause—a moment of connection, of shared pain and unspoken promises. Liora's words were more than comfort; they were a vow, a commitment from a mentor to her student, from one mage to another.
As they remained seated for a long time, a tiny bit of warmth seemed to return to Lynna. It was hard to see, almost imperceptible, but to Liora, it was a glimmer of hope — a chance that Lynna's spirit could be revived.
Amidst the silence, a faint, coarse whisper broke through, a voice that seemed to have traversed a sea of madness. "P... Principal...", Lynna's voice was barely audible, laden with sadness and the weight of her recent trauma. The sound, though weak, resonated with the strength of a profound struggle, a testament to the battles she had fought within her own mind. For Liora, that single, faltering word was more than just a vocalization; it was a sign of Lynna's enduring spirit, a whisper of the resilience that still lingered within her.
The cell, once a place of isolation, had become a sanctuary of healing. In that moment, as the light faded and the shadows lengthened, a new chapter began for Lynna, one filled with the promise of recovery and the unwavering support of those who believed in her.
As Liora finally stood to leave, she cast one last glance at Lynna. In the dim light, she could swear she saw a slight softening in Lynna's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the journey ahead.
Ascending the stairs back into the daylight, Liora's thoughts turned to action. She would reach out to Lynna's friends, rally the Academy's resources, and enlist the best help possible. As she emerged into the open air, her resolve solidified. Lynna's journey was far from finished, and Liora was committed to guiding her back. In the heart of the Academy, under the open sky, a flicker of hope endured, steadfast and strong.