After his first training session, Adrian barely made it down from the tower before his legs gave out. He slumped against a cold stone wall, his breathing shallow, hands still tingling from the Gloves of Calculation. His mind buzzed with everything Meric had said about reading energy, seeing patterns, fighting—things that, hours before, would have seemed as distant to him as myth.
He had little time to reflect. A door creaked open nearby, and a young woman in an elegant tunic and leather armor emerged, carrying an armful of books. Her hair was pulled into a loose braid, and her eyes had a sharpness that matched the daggers strapped to her waist. She glanced down at him, quirking an eyebrow.
"You're the new 'hero,' right?" she asked, her tone somewhere between curiosity and skepticism.
Adrian winced, unused to the title. "Apparently so."
She laughed, a low, musical sound, and set her books on a nearby table. "Don't look so thrilled. We've all been summoned for something around here. You're not the first outlander who's stumbled in, lost and confused." She extended a hand. "I'm Lyra. Resident scout and, occasionally, babysitter for newly summoned heroes."
"Adrian," he said, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm, her expression appraising. "So… you're from another world too?"
"Not exactly." Lyra leaned against the table, studying him. "I'm Lunarian, born and raised. But I work with people like you. Meric calls us the 'Guides of the Summoned.' They pair us with the newly arrived so they don't get themselves killed in the first week."
Adrian gave her a lopsided smile. "Seems fair. I almost got taken down by… whatever that ghost-thing was."
She nodded knowingly. "Ah, Meric's specter training. He likes to start with a jolt. Says it weeds out those with a weak heart." She tilted her head, her gaze thoughtful. "But you handled it pretty well for a first timer."
"Thanks," Adrian said, surprised by the compliment. "Though I wouldn't say I 'handled' it so much as… survived."
"Survival's better than most," she replied with a grin. "Trust me. You're doing fine."
They stood in silence for a moment, and Adrian felt the urge to ask the question that had been lingering in his mind since he'd arrived. "Lyra… why me? Out of all the people in my world, why would I be chosen to face some dark queen?"
Her smile faded, replaced by something more serious. "It's hard to say. The magic that summons people here… it's ancient, and no one fully understands it. It searches for a certain kind of strength, something buried deep inside a person's character. It could be resilience, a sharp mind, a hidden courage. Whatever it is, the magic thinks you have it."
Adrian's stomach twisted with uncertainty. "But I don't feel like a hero. I was an accountant, not some warrior or strategist."
Lyra's expression softened. "You're not alone in feeling that way. Every summoned person I've met felt out of place at first. But each of them had something, something the rest of us could see even if they couldn't." She reached over, tapping the Gloves of Calculation on his hands. "And it seems you have a gift for reading the flow of magic. That's no small thing."
He looked down at the gloves, flexing his fingers. The thought that he could see or manipulate something as powerful as magic still felt unreal. But the memory of the specter flickered through his mind—the way he had seen its pattern, known instinctively where to strike.
Lyra lifted her books again and nodded toward a small door at the end of the hallway. "If you're up for it, I can take you on a short tour. Give you the lay of the land."
Adrian managed a tired smile. "Yeah, a tour would be great. Anything to make this place feel less like… a dream."
They passed through several more winding hallways, Lyra occasionally pointing out landmarks—a sprawling library that smelled of ancient parchment and herbs, an armory where weapons glimmered in perfect rows, and a training hall where soldiers drilled under the watchful eye of a grizzled instructor. Eventually, they stepped into a courtyard filled with strange flora, plants that glowed faintly in the twilight. The sight was mesmerizing.
"You said there have been other summoned heroes?" Adrian asked as they walked.
"Many," Lyra replied. "Not all of them fought against the Dark Queen, but each of them was called to do something important. Some stayed, became legends. Others… went back."
The words sent a jolt through him. "Wait—you're saying it's possible to go home?"
Lyra hesitated, her gaze distant. "Yes, but it's rare. Summoning magic is a one-way spell. Only those who complete their purpose in Lunaris are given the choice to return."
Adrian felt a pang of hope mixed with dread. What exactly would it mean for him to "complete his purpose"? Defeating the Dark Queen seemed like an impossible task, yet that was the path apparently set before him.
"Look," Lyra said, sensing his unease, "the path won't be easy. But you won't be alone. Guides like me—we're here to help."
Adrian nodded, grateful for her presence. "Thank you, Lyra. Really."
They walked in silence for a while, the weight of everything settling in. Adrian was just beginning to think that he might find his way in this world when a low, distant rumbling shook the ground. Lyra's expression darkened, and she grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the edge of the courtyard.
"That's not good," she murmured, her voice tense.
Ahead, past the castle walls, a dark cloud rose from the forest. It wasn't just smoke—it moved with a strange fluidity, as if alive, coiling and twisting. Adrian's heart pounded.
"What… what is that?"
Lyra's face was pale, her jaw clenched. "The Dark Queen's scouts. Shades. They're coming closer every day."
Even from this distance, Adrian could feel the malevolent energy radiating from the shadows. His fingers tightened on the gloves instinctively, but a chill ran through him. Just looking at the shades sent a cold spike of fear through his chest.
Lyra placed a hand on his shoulder, her gaze steely. "Come on. We need to warn Meric."
Back in the main hall, they found Meric in a quiet corner, studying a map that seemed to shift and change as he looked at it. He glanced up as they approached, and his eyes sharpened when he saw their expressions.
"Shades?" he asked, already seeming to know.
Lyra nodded grimly. "They've crossed into the eastern forest."
Meric's face hardened. "The Queen's forces are moving faster than we expected. It seems our enemy has sensed our new hero's arrival."
Adrian swallowed, his mouth dry. "They're here… because of me?"
"Not because of you alone," Meric said. "But your presence has stirred something. The Dark Queen's magic is tied to her dominion, and every threat to her power draws her attention. You, Adrian, are such a threat."
Adrian's stomach twisted. He wasn't ready for this. He'd barely learned how to read energy patterns, much less face the Queen's scouts. "What… what do we do?"
Meric looked at Lyra, then back to Adrian. "You will have to continue your training. And soon, we may need to test your skills in the field." He placed a steadying hand on Adrian's shoulder. "For now, rest. Learn. And do not let fear overwhelm you."
Lyra nodded, squeezing Adrian's arm reassuringly. "We'll start tomorrow morning. I'll teach you how to move through the forest, how to avoid being seen. And if we're lucky, we won't have to meet the shades up close."
The night stretched on, filled with murmured plans and a sense of impending danger. Adrian listened as they talked tactics, strategies, and escape routes. He tried to absorb it all, though part of him still couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't belong here.
But as he looked out the window, back toward the distant forest where shadows gathered, he realized something else: he had no choice but to belong. The Dark Queen's forces were real, the threat looming ever closer. And if this strange magic had chosen him as a hero, then he would have to find a way to rise to it.
As the torches burned low and Lyra led him to his quarters, Adrian took one last look at the Gloves of Calculation, a strange determination settling in his heart. He didn't know how, but he would find his strength in this world—even if it meant facing the shadows head-on.