Luther, along with the others, followed the knights down an enormous corridor that led to an impressive hall at the heart of the castle. The room was vast, with high vaulted ceilings and walls adorned with tapestries depicting ancient battles and unfamiliar symbols. Along the walls, dozens of soldiers stood in line, their gleaming armor and rigid postures making them appear like imposing statues, their cold stares intimidating even the boldest among us.
Once all the newcomers had entered the hall, the doors closed with a deep, resounding echo. In that instant, the torches and lamps illuminating the room were extinguished, plunging the place into absolute darkness. Luther could barely make out the silhouettes of the people beside him, but his attention was immediately drawn to the faint glow coming from the head table, where Sir Aldric and Princess Selene stood.
With a calculated gesture, Princess Selene extended her hand toward an object resting on the table: a polished orb, roughly palm-sized, that emitted a mysterious glow. As she raised it carefully, the orb began to float, and a light emerged from its center, projecting itself into the air like a hologram.
From the light, the figure of a man took shape—a face everyone recognized instantly, despite having never seen it before. It was an elderly man, but imposing, with a stern gaze and silver hair meticulously groomed. His attire, rich in golden details and precious gems, left no doubt: he was the king. His expression, though calm, radiated power and authority.
The entire hall fell silent, everyone holding their breath as they watched the king's holographic face, which seemed to observe us from another dimension. Though he had yet to speak, his mere presence commanded respect, leaving no question that this was the sovereign of Ethelia, the man behind the kingdom that now welcomed us.
The hologram shifted slightly, and his voice finally filled the hall, deep and solemn, as if every word were weighted with centuries of wisdom and tradition.
"Welcome, summoned ones," the king began, his eyes sweeping across the hall as if he could see us directly. "I know you are confused and afraid. Fate has been cruel, bringing you to our land in an uncertain time—a time when the balance of Aether stands on a knife's edge."
His voice paused briefly, allowing us to absorb his words. The tension in the room was palpable; some looked around, trying to grasp the magnitude of what they had just heard.
"You," the king continued, "were called to Aether not by chance, but for a purpose that time will reveal. Each of you possesses a gift, a unique capability you must discover. My duty as the sovereign of this kingdom is to offer you protection and guidance. But know that in return, you will have to face the dark realities of this world."
A chill ran down Luther's spine. The mention of a specific purpose, of abilities and a fate they didn't yet understand, made him think that this world was filled with mysteries and challenges beyond their imagining.
The king surveyed the crowd in silence before continuing, his expression serious as he carefully chose his words.
"This world, Aether, lives and breathes through mana. Every being born here possesses a mana core within them—a center of energy that grows and strengthens over the course of their lives. It is mana that allows us to perform feats that to you might seem miraculous. Without it, one is powerless and, in many cases, a burden in daily life, as even common folk in the villages and fields use mana in their work."
"However," the king continued, "since you have not been exposed to mana in your own worlds, it would take at least twenty years in Aether before you could naturally develop a mana core. You would spend two decades vulnerable, a time during which you would be easy prey to the dangers lurking around every corner. But in ancient times, the sages and mages of our realm devised a solution for this: a method to create an artificial mana core within the summoned."
The tension in the hall intensified as the king watched us closely. "This artificial core will grant you the ability to manipulate mana within your bodies. With practice and dedication, this core will evolve, eventually transforming into a natural one. This way, you won't have to spend twenty years wandering as mere mortals without mana in a world that deeply depends on it."
A wave of murmurs spread through the hall, each person processing the information in their own way. For some, the opportunity to obtain a mana core and access magic seemed an unthinkable privilege, but for others, the reality of having been torn from their worlds stirred a frustration that would soon surface.
"Now," the king continued, his voice calm yet firm, "the choice is yours. Those who wish to receive this core and remain within the kingdom of Ethelia will be trained, instructed in the use of mana, and protected while you master your abilities. But if any of you prefer not to participate, you are free to leave. We will not force you."
A rumble of anger and distrust arose from one corner of the hall. A burly man with a defiant look—the same one who had caused trouble in the carriages—stepped forward, interrupting the solemn atmosphere.
"Choice? Is this a joke?" he shouted, his tone filled with resentment. "We haven't been given a choice since the moment you pulled us from our homes. You brought us here against our will, you throw us into this theater, and now you say we're free to go?"
Several people nodded, swept up in the man's anger and resentment. Their expressions conveyed the same frustration and confusion, some murmuring among themselves, sharing doubts they had kept silent until now. The tension was thick as the man raised his voice, rallying a small group of dissenters.
"We don't need your mana cores or whatever! If you think we'll submit and wag our tails like dogs, you're dead wrong," he said, casting a defiant look toward Sir Aldric and Princess Selene.
The princess maintained her composure, observing the group with a mix of understanding and sadness. She made no move to stop them or say a word as the man and his followers made their way to the exit. Their footsteps echoed on the stone floor, and the group soon disappeared into the darkness of the corridors.
Luther watched in silence, recalling the man's defiant attitude during the carriage ride. He didn't share the man's opinions, but he wasn't entirely convinced of what the king offered, either. Yet, a voice within him warned that without the power of mana, he would have no chance in this world.
The king gazed at those who remained in the hall, his expression severe but, at the same time, empathetic.
"The journey ahead will not be easy," he said, his tone now gentler. "But those who choose to stay will have a place in the kingdom of Ethelia. You will learn to survive and thrive in Aether, and if fate allows, you may discover why you were called here."
A solemn silence fell over the remaining crowd—those who, despite their doubts and fears, had opted to stay.