The air in the classroom felt heavy, as if the weight of history itself had descended upon the students. Professor Maren stood at the front of the room, his voice a low, steady rumble that carried with it the weight of centuries. His lecture had taken them through the darkest chapters of human history, a tale both cautionary and tragic, and the students sat in silence, riveted by the grim details.
"The world you know today," Professor Maren began, "is but a shadow of the world that came before. Hundreds of years ago, human civilization reached heights unimaginable. Technology had advanced to a point where nothing seemed beyond reach—diseases were eradicated, energy was abundant, and even the skies could be traversed with ease. Humans mastered the forces of nature, and it seemed, for a time, that they had tamed the world."
He paused, his eyes sweeping across the room, meeting the gazes of his students. Caelan and Dorian, seated in the middle of the room, listened intently, absorbing every word.
"But," the professor continued, "as is often the case with progress, human greed grew unchecked. No matter how much humanity achieved, it was never enough. Nations grew jealous of each other's power, and with technology as advanced as it was, they began to see themselves as gods."
He turned and pointed to a large map behind him, a faded relic showing the world as it once was—vast, with continents that now no longer existed.
"And so," Professor Maren said, his voice growing colder, "war broke out. Not just between two nations, but between all nations. What started as a battle for resources quickly escalated into a conflict for total dominance. Weapons of unimaginable power were unleashed, weapons that could wipe out entire cities in moments."
Caelan felt a shiver run down his spine as he pictured it—a world on the brink of greatness, destroyed by the same hands that had built it.
"The war," the professor went on, "lasted only a few years, but the devastation it caused was beyond comprehension. Entire continents were reduced to barren wastelands. The very fabric of the climate was torn apart. The once-thriving world was left in ruins. Humanity's great civilization was wiped from the face of the earth."
The professor's voice lowered to a near-whisper as he added, "Only one continent remained habitable—the land you now live on. And even this land was once thought barren, a desert in the old world. But as fate would have it, after the destruction, the climate shifted, and this once-desolate land became fertile, a place where the remnants of humanity could survive."
Caelan's mind raced as he took in the enormity of what had happened. The world they lived in, the kingdoms they ruled, were but remnants of a civilization far grander than they could imagine. Everything they had built was founded on the ashes of the old world.
"Of course," Professor Maren said, stepping back from the map, "not all of humanity perished in the war. Some individuals, primarily researchers and scholars, had remained neutral in the conflict, refusing to align with any nation. These were the people who saw the writing on the wall and sought refuge in this land before the final cataclysm."
He began pacing slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. "These researchers brought with them what little knowledge they could save. They realized that humanity had to start over, to rebuild from the ground up. But they also understood that the technology of the old world was too dangerous. And so, they sealed it away."
Dorian leaned in closer, intrigued. "Sealed it away?" he whispered, barely audible to Caelan beside him.
Professor Maren nodded as if he'd heard the whisper, his voice rising again. "Indeed. They hid the technology, the weapons, the knowledge that had led to humanity's downfall, in tombs, ruins, and vaults across the continent. These ancient relics have been lost to time, scattered and forgotten… for the most part."
A murmur ran through the class. The mention of tombs and ancient ruins always stirred excitement, especially among those who sought to uncover the secrets of the past. Caelan had always been fascinated by the idea of what lay buried beneath the earth, remnants of a forgotten world.
"But make no mistake," Professor Maren warned, his tone turning grave, "these relics are not toys. They are dangerous. Those who seek them out do so at great peril, for the old world's technology can still bring destruction if mishandled. That is why it remains locked away, a silent testament to human folly."
He stopped his pacing and turned to face the class directly. "And that is where we stand today. You are the heirs of this world, the future leaders, knights, and scholars who will shape what comes next. But you must always remember the lessons of the past. Power, unchecked, leads only to ruin."
The bell rang then, its sharp sound breaking the tense silence that had settled over the classroom. The students shifted in their seats, glancing at each other as if waking from a shared dream.
Professor Maren glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. "That concludes today's lecture. For those of you who wish to delve deeper into the history of the old world and the wars that ended it, I recommend you visit the library. There are several excellent texts on the subject, including 'The Fall of the Great Empires' by Rothan Milaris and 'The War of Ashes' by Lira Soloré. Make good use of your time and resources, for understanding the past is crucial if you are to avoid repeating it."
With that, he began gathering his notes, and the students started filing out of the room, murmuring quietly among themselves. The lecture had left an impression, sparking both curiosity and a sense of caution.
As Caelan and Dorian rose from their seats, Aldric approached them from where he had been seated a few rows back.
"That was… unsettling," Aldric remarked, his brow furrowed. "I knew about the wars, but hearing it laid out like that—it's hard to believe how close humanity came to being wiped out entirely."
Caelan nodded, his thoughts still lingering on the professor's words. "It's sobering, isn't it? All of this," he gestured around the grand lecture hall, "exists because of one last chance at survival."
Dorian, ever the pragmatist, shrugged. "Well, the old world messed up, but that doesn't mean we will. If anything, it's a reminder of how important our roles are. We're the ones who'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
Caelan smiled faintly. "I hope you're right."
As they made their way toward the door, Caelan noticed Dorian glancing back at the map of the old world on the wall.
"You're thinking about the ruins, aren't you?" Caelan asked.
Dorian smirked. "Maybe. Don't tell me you're not curious. The thought of what's buried out there… relics from a time when people could do anything. It's fascinating."
"It's dangerous," Aldric added, his tone serious. "You heard what the professor said. That technology is what destroyed the world."
"Maybe," Dorian conceded, "but that doesn't mean we should ignore it. There's still so much we don't know. And maybe, just maybe, some of that knowledge could be useful."
Caelan said nothing, though the idea of exploring ancient ruins stirred something deep within him. There was a mystery to the past that he couldn't deny—a pull toward understanding what had come before, even if it meant venturing into the unknown.
As they left the lecture hall, they passed by other students, many of whom were still discussing the lesson, their faces a mixture of awe and apprehension. The corridors of the academy were alive with the buzz of conversation, but the echoes of Professor Maren's words seemed to linger in the air.
The three of them walked together across the courtyard, the sun now fully risen, casting long shadows on the stone paths. They had a brief break before their next class, and Caelan felt the weight of the morning's lesson settling in his mind.
"Do you ever wonder," Caelan began, breaking the silence, "what it would've been like to live in that time? Before the war?"
Aldric glanced at him. "I imagine it would've been incredible. But also, dangerous. Too much power in too many hands."
Dorian chuckled. "And we're any different? The only difference now is that we don't have the same tools. But power? That's always been dangerous, in any age."
As they approached the grand library of the academy, Caelan slowed his pace. "I think I'm going to check out one of those books Professor Maren mentioned," he said, glancing at the towering stone structure before them. "I want to learn more about the war."
Aldric raised an eyebrow. "More history? You sure you're not a scholar in disguise?"
Caelan smirked. "I've always had an interest in the past. Understanding where we come from helps us understand where we're going."
Dorian, ever the opportunist, nodded. "I'll join you. If there's anything in those books about ruins or relics, I want to know."
The three of them entered the library, its vast halls filled with the quiet rustle of pages and the soft footsteps of students moving between the towering shelves. Caelan felt a sense of calm wash over him, the scent of old books and parchment a comforting contrast to the turmoil of the history they had just learned.
As they approached the shelves containing the recommended texts, Caelan couldn't shake the feeling that the past wasn't as distant as it seemed. The ruins, the relics, the ancient tombs—they were all part of the same story, a story that was still unfolding.
And whether they liked it or not, they were now a part of that story too.