"Are you the invader?"
He asked, his tone cool and measured.
He took a slow sip from his cup, his eyes scanning me without a hint of concern.
"I thought you'd look... much stronger."
The nonchalance in his voice caught me off guard.
After everything I'd just been through, I had expected more hostility or at least a sign of urgency.
But this guy, sipping tea like he was on a leisurely stroll, was the last thing I expected.
I narrowed my eyes, still catching my breath.
"Who are you?"
He took another sip of tea before responding.
"I'm the second in command, you can call me Callieber."
Callieber set down his cup on the small table that seemed to have materialized out of the shadows, his expression calm and indifferent, as though the shattered crystal and the broken chains meant nothing.
I could still feel the cold sweat on my back from the fight, my body sore and drained, but I wasn't about to let this guy see it.
"Second in command?" I muttered, my eyes narrowing. "Second to who?"
Callieber smiled faintly, brushing a hand through his silver hair.
"Ah, you're sharp, aren't you? That's good. It makes this all the more interesting."
He gestured around the room, almost lazily.
"You've caused quite a bit of trouble here, and... well, my master noticed."
I frowned, my muscles tensing despite the exhaustion. "Your master? You mean the one behind all this dark magic?"
Callieber nodded, his expression is still annoyingly casual.
"Exactly. You should feel honored. You've caught his attention. Not many can say that."
The way he said it, like it was supposed to be a compliment, made my skin crawl.
I clenched my fists, summoning what little frost magic I had left, though I wasn't sure how much more I could handle.
"And what does he want?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. "You're draining the magic from these elves for some sick ritual, and I'm supposed to feel honored?"
Callieber raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as if I'd said something amusing.
"They're dark elves," He said, waving a hand dismissively. "They mean nothing to this world. I mean, we humans hate them, no?"
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, the casual cruelty behind them twisting my insides.
He spoke as if these lives didn't matter, as if draining them of their magic, their very essence, was a trivial thing.
I gritted my teeth, feeling anger rise in me like a tidal wave.
"That's a pretty twisted way of looking at things," I growled. "They're living beings, just like us. You can't just discard them because they're different."
Callieber shrugged, as though my words were nothing more than a passing breeze.
"You're thinking too much about it. This is just the natural order of things. Humans dominate. Dark elves... well, they're lucky if they get to serve a purpose. It's better than being hunted down like animals, don't you think?"
I clenched my fists, the ice magic simmering beneath my skin, threatening to explode.
Every word that came out of his mouth made my blood boil.
Without thinking, I launched myself at Callieber, the ice magic in my veins flaring to life as I drew ice around my fists.
It felt like fire under my skin, fueled by rage and exhaustion.
I wasn't going to stand there and listen to this guy talk down about people like they were disposable.
My ice-covered fist arced through the air, aimed directly at his smug face.
But before I even got close, Callieber's hand shot out, grabbing my wrist effortlessly.
The impact of his grip stopped me dead in my tracks.
I could feel the raw power radiating from his hand, the ice around my fist cracking as if it were nothing more than fragile glass.
His fingers tightened, and I gasped in pain.
"Predictable," He said, his tone is flat, completely unimpressed. "You're too emotional. Attacking out of anger, no control. No discipline. My master won't be interested in someone who acts on impulse."
I struggled, trying to wrench my arm free, but his grip didn't budge.
I could feel my magic slipping away, as if his touch was draining the energy right out of me.
Callieber's cold eyes met mine, and for the first time since he'd entered the room, there was a flicker of something, something dangerous.
"Do you really think you can fight me, with barely any magic left?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Or are you just too stupid to realize how outmatched you are?"
His words stung, but I wasn't about to let him break me.
With a grunt of effort, I pushed back, sending what was left of my ice magic surging through my arm, trying to freeze him in place.
For a split second, ice crawled over his hand, but Callieber didn't even flinch.
He glanced at the ice, almost bored, and with a subtle twist of his wrist, shattered it completely, sending shards of ice falling to the ground.
"Nice try," He said, his voice dripping with condescension. "But you're out of your league."
With one swift motion, he shoved me back.
I stumbled, my feet struggling to find balance as I crashed into the cold stone floor, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.
My vision blurred for a moment, but I quickly pushed myself up, glaring at him through the haze of pain and frustration.
Callieber dusted his hands off, as if our scuffle had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
"You should be grateful I'm not interested in fighting you," He said casually. "If I was, you'd already be dead."
I forced myself to stand, my legs trembling from the effort, but I wasn't ready to give up.
Not yet.
I could still feel my magic coursing through my veins, weak as it was, but I have to keep going.
I raised my hands again, ice forming at my fingertips, but before I could even take a step, Callieber appeared in front of me in a blur of motion.
I barely had time to register his movement before his fist connected with my stomach.
My body folded over his fist, the wind completely knocked out of me.
I gasped, my vision going white for a second as the pain shot through my entire torso.
I tried to stay on my feet, but my body gave out, my knees buckling as I collapsed to the floor.
Callieber stood over me, his face is expressionless, as if he hadn't just knocked the life out of me with one punch.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," He said, his voice calm as ever. "But you're not ready to face someone like me."
I groaned, barely able to lift my head to meet his gaze. I wanted to say something, to throw one last insult his way, but my body wouldn't listen.
Everything hurts.
Callieber sighed, crouching down next to me, his silver hair falling into his eyes.
"Look, it's nothing personal. My master has big plans, and you're just... in the way." He reached out, placing a hand on my forehead. "Sleep now. You'll need your strength for what's coming."
Before I could react, a wave of darkness flooded my mind, pulling me under.
My eyelids grew heavy, and despite my efforts to fight it, the world around me faded to black.
The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was Callieber's soft, almost pitying voice.
"See you later, kid."
---
I walk to the streets of Caelumora Kingdom, I see the people glaring at me like I'm some kind of a monster.
"Look at that kid..."
"...always causing trouble,"
I kept walking, my head held high, but their stares burned into my back. It wasn't like I didn't know what they thought of me.
"A kid like that doesn't belong here,"
Ever since I first discovered my magic, I had been treated like an outcast in the kingdom.
It wasn't just that I was a wizard, it was how I used my powers.
The other wizards, the guilds, they all followed rules, controlled their magic in a way that kept the peace.
But I... I had always been different. My magic was wild, unpredictable...
My mind drifted back to when it all started.
...
I was just a kid when I first realized I have magic.
Back then, I can't control it... it was raw energy, chaotic and fierce.
It would burst out at the worst times, sending shockwaves through the streets, freezing fountains, causing fires, and scaring people.
My parents, or rather you could say 'adoptive parents' both ordinary merchants, didn't know what to do with me.
"Kira, stop!"
My adoptive mother had pleaded, pulling me into the house one night after another outburst of magic.
The neighbors had gathered outside, their eyes filled with fear and anger.
"We can't keep him here,"
My adoptive father had said later that night, his voice barely a whisper but heavy with regret.
"He's too dangerous. The guilds won't take him, and the kingdom... they'll come for him."
I had heard it all through the thin walls of our small home.
The fear in their voices, the uncertainty in their eyes. They didn't want me around, and I couldn't blame them. I was a liability, a threat to their quiet, peaceful lives.
So, I ran.
...
The Arcane Brigade found me, or rather, I found them.
They were the only ones willing to take me in after I spent months surviving on my own.
I was barely twelve, cold, starving, and scared. The Guildmaster at the time, an older wizard named Oren, saw something in me.
He didn't care that I was reckless or that I had no control over my powers.
He saw potential.
He taught me how to channel my magic, how to focus the chaos inside me into something more precise, more useful.
But no matter how much I learned, I never fully mastered it.
I always pushed my limits, always used more power than I should. It's why I clashed with the others in the guild, especially Charlotte, the S-Class wizard who had no patience for my antics.
She was not an S-Class wizard at that time.
But I didn't care. I didn't want to follow their rules. I wanted to be free, to use my magic my way.
I never fit into their perfect little boxes.
The Arcane Brigade was supposed to be a place for people like me, people who didn't belong anywhere else.
And yet, I was still the odd one out, even there.
Charlotte had been a rising star in the guild when I joined. Her precision in magic was unmatched. When she became an S-Class wizard, no one was surprised.
She always looked at me like I was a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode.
"Magic isn't a toy, Kira," She would say, her voice filled with frustration every time I got into trouble.
"I'm not playing," I would snap back, though part of me knew she was right.
But I didn't care. My magic was the only thing I had that set me apart from everyone else. It made me feel powerful, even when the world saw me as nothing more than a nuisance.
---
I shook awake to the sound of a loud heavy footsteps.
My eyes is still slightly blurred but I can see that I'm being dragged by someone.
My body felt like it had been through a war, every muscle screamed in pain, and my magic was nothing but a weak flicker inside me.
My head lolled to the side, catching a glimpse of the stone walls and the ornate symbols carved into them.
It wasn't long before I recognized the figure pulling me.
"Callieber,"
I muttered under my breath, my voice hoarse.
My limbs felt heavy, almost disconnected from my mind, but I forced myself to focus.
We approached a large door, intricately designed with swirling patterns that pulsed faintly with dark energy.
This wasn't just any door, it had an aura about it, something ancient and foreboding.
Callieber finally stopped, releasing his hold on my arm. I collapsed to my knees, too weak to stand on my own.
"Still trying to be tough, huh?" He said, his tone lacking any real amusement this time. "You'll need more than that to survive what's behind this door."
I struggled to push myself up, leaning on my arms as I glared at him.
Callieber sighed and straightened his robe, looking almost bored.
"Beyond this door is where the real fun begins. My master awaits, and if you're lucky, he'll let you live long enough to understand why you're here."
I wanted to say something, to throw some biting comment back at him, but my mind was too foggy, my body too broken.
The door creaked open with a low, ominous groan, the dark energy swirling inside almost beckoning me to step forward.
I could feel the pull, like a cold hand wrapping around my heart.
"Get up,"
He grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me to my feet with disturbing ease, shoving me toward the open doorway.
I skidded across the floor. My body aches and pain shoots out. The moment I stopped, I slowly turn my head up. The room was large, torches are hanging on all side of the wall and across the room, a man is sitting on the throne.
Akira is standing beside him, still expressionless. I clutches my side and slowly stand up to see clearly of the man on the throne.
From my perspective, I think he's not that scary at all.
But if you're a new wizard, you will feel that his magic power is so overwhelming that it could force you down on the floor.