Kael tightened his grip on the grimoire as he descended deeper into the ruins. Each step echoed in the oppressive silence, the faint glow of runes on the walls his only guide. The air grew colder, and the pulse of the rune within him intensified, as if recognizing the layers of enchantments woven into this ancient place.
He couldn't shake the feeling that the ruins themselves were alive, testing him with every turn and challenge. The book he now carried was no ordinary artifact—it was a key, and the ruins would not give up their secrets easily.
This was no ordinary tomb; it was a labyrinth of trials.
The corridor opened into a wide chamber dominated by a massive stone door. Intricate carvings adorned its surface, depicting scenes of battles fought with both steel and sorcery. Above the door, an inscription glowed faintly:
"Only the worthy may enter, and only the strong may leave."
Kael approached cautiously, his eyes scanning the door for any sign of traps. The grimoire's pages had hinted at these trials, but the details had been vague at best.
The rune within him pulsed again, and Kael felt a strange tug toward the door. Placing a hand on its surface, he felt a jolt of energy surge through him. The carvings shifted, the figures coming to life in a swirl of light and shadow.
A voice boomed, low and resonant.
"Speak your purpose, wanderer, or be cast into the void."
Kael didn't flinch. "Power," he said, his voice steady. "I seek the strength to rise above this world and claim what's mine."
The carvings stopped moving, the silence stretching on for what felt like an eternity. Then, with a groan of ancient mechanisms, the door began to open.
The air on the other side was colder still, carrying the faint scent of ozone and decay.
Beyond the door lay another corridor, its walls lined with crystalline sconces that emitted a pale, flickering light. The rune in Kael's chest pulsed in time with the lights, each beat a reminder of the power waiting to be unleashed.
The grimoire's pages had mentioned a meditation technique required to channel magic. According to the book, this technique was the first step toward ascending the ranks of magical mastery.
Kael paused in the corridor, flipping to the section on meditation. The technique described was deceptively simple: focus on the flow of energy within, synchronize it with the surrounding magic, and draw it into oneself.
Closing the book, Kael sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor. The rune within him thrummed, its presence a steady guide as he began to focus.
At first, there was nothing—only the faint echoes of his breathing and the distant hum of the ruins. Then, slowly, he began to feel it.
The air around him shimmered, threads of energy weaving themselves into a web that connected everything. Kael reached out with his mind, drawing the threads closer. The rune reacted immediately, pulling the energy inward and amplifying it.
The sensation was intoxicating, a surge of power that left him breathless.
Hours passed—or perhaps it was minutes. Time seemed to lose meaning as Kael delved deeper into the meditation. The energy within him began to stabilize, its flow becoming more controlled.
When he finally opened his eyes, the corridor seemed brighter, the runes on the walls more vivid. The rune in his chest was quieter now, its pulse steady and even.
Kael stood, a faint smile playing on his lips. He had taken his first step on the path of magic. The grimoire's words echoed in his mind:
"Rookie. The foundation upon which all magic is built."
It was a humble beginning, but Kael knew better than to underestimate its importance. Every journey began with a single step, and he intended to climb higher than anyone before him.
The corridor led to another chamber, this one larger and more ornate. Pillars of stone rose to the ceiling, their surfaces engraved with yet more runes. At the center of the room stood a pedestal, atop which rested a crystal orb that pulsed with a soft blue light.
Kael approached cautiously, his eyes scanning the room for signs of danger. The pedestal was surrounded by a circular pattern etched into the floor, its lines glowing faintly.
As Kael stepped closer, the rune in his chest flared. The glow from the floor intensified, and the air grew thick with magic.
A figure materialized above the pedestal—a translucent apparition clad in robes, its features obscured by a hood.
"You seek knowledge," the apparition said, its voice echoing in the chamber. "But knowledge comes at a price."
Kael didn't respond, his grip tightening on his spear.
The apparition raised a hand, and the glow from the orb intensified. A wave of energy shot out, slamming into Kael and sending him sprawling.
Pain flared through his body, but the rune absorbed most of the impact, its energy dulling the worst of the blow.
"You must prove yourself," the apparition intoned. "Show me your resolve, or perish."
Kael rose to his feet, his spear at the ready. The apparition conjured a blade of shimmering energy, its movements swift and precise.
The battle was unlike anything Kael had faced before. The apparition moved with inhuman speed, its attacks unrelenting. Kael relied on the rune's enhancements, dodging and countering as best he could.
The rune pulsed again, its energy flooding Kael's senses. He felt his reactions sharpen, his strikes becoming more precise. Slowly but surely, he began to push the apparition back.
With a final, desperate strike, Kael's spear pierced the apparition's form. The figure dissolved into a burst of light, the orb atop the pedestal glowing brighter.
Kael staggered back, breathing heavily. The rune in his chest pulsed once more, its energy settling into a steady rhythm.
The voice of the apparition echoed faintly in the chamber. "You have passed. Take what you have earned."
Kael approached the pedestal, his gaze fixed on the glowing orb. As he touched it, a surge of energy coursed through him, the knowledge of the next level—Novice—burning itself into his mind.
He smiled grimly. The ruins were far from finished with him, but Kael had no intention of stopping.