Clark woke before dawn, feeling more energized than ever. The faint warmth lingering beneath his skin told him the sun's energy had already begun restoring his strength, and the system's passive ability was doing its work. It wasn't the limitless power he once wielded, but it was progress.
As he stepped outside, the cool morning air brushed against his skin. The village was still quiet, save for the distant clinking of Garrek's hammer in the smithy. Clark took a deep breath and began stretching, pushing his body to test its limits.
A simple jog around the village turned into sprints, and those sprints turned into jumps that cleared fences and low walls. He barely noticed the glances of a few early risers as they stopped to watch.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
]Physical Stat Increased: Strength +1, Agility +1]
Clark skidded to a halt, breathing heavily but not feeling the burn he expected. Instead, he felt exhilarated. His stamina was recovering faster than normal, and his movements were sharper.
The villagers might not have noticed the difference, but Clark did.
"Not bad," he muttered. "Now let's see what else this body can do."
....
By mid-morning, Eldhaven was bustling. Rumors of a traveling merchant had spread, and villagers gathered in the square to see what wares he had brought. Clark found himself among the crowd, more curious than anything.
The merchant's wagon was covered in colorful fabrics and packed with crates of strange goods. Vials of glowing liquid, rings that shimmered with faint magical light, and weapons with intricate engravings filled the makeshift stall.
"Step right up!" the merchant boomed, his voice full of practiced charm. "Rare items from the far corners of the kingdoms—artifacts of power, tools of magic, and relics of legend!"
Clark's eyes wandered to a small table displaying books and scrolls. He approached cautiously, his gaze landing on a faded tome marked with strange symbols.
"Ah, a scholar's eye!" The merchant appeared beside him, grinning. "Interested in ancient writings, are we?"
Clark glanced up. "What is it?"
"A collection of theories and practices from the Sable Spire," the merchant said. "For those who wish to understand the mysteries of magic—and maybe even bend it to their will."
Clark hesitated. "I'm not exactly a mage."
"Not yet," the merchant said with a wink. "But knowledge is the first step to power. And in these times, power is survival."
Clark reached into his pouch and counted the few coins he had earned from working with Garrek. It wasn't much, but enough for the book.
"I'll take it," he said.
...
Clark spent the afternoon poring over the book in the tavern's corner, its pages filled with diagrams and spells he couldn't even begin to decipher. But one section caught his attention—an entry about ley lines and magical energy sources.
According to the text, ley lines were streams of magical energy that crisscrossed the land, acting as conduits for raw power. They were invisible to most, but those attuned to magic—or possessing certain abilities—could sense and even draw strength from them.
Clark frowned. It reminded him of how he absorbed sunlight back home. Could the ley lines in this world function the same way?
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
[New Insight Unlocked: Energy Conduits]
[Passive Effect Detected: Ley Line Sensitivity (Dormant)]
Clark nearly dropped the book.
"So this world does have something similar," he whispered.
It made sense now. His powers were tied to energy—whether sunlight or something else. If the system could adapt to this world's magic, maybe it wasn't just restoring his old abilities. Maybe it was evolving them.
But why would Mxyzptlk set him up like this?
"Testing me, huh?" Clark muttered. "Well, I'm not backing down."
Clark closed the book and stood, ready to return to Garrek's shop when the tavern door creaked open. A cloaked figure stepped inside, moving with deliberate calm. The room fell quiet as heads turned toward the newcomer.
The stranger's eyes swept over the crowd before landing on Clark.
"You're the one who stopped the bandits," the figure said, voice low and steady.
Clark tensed. "Who's asking?"
The stranger pulled back their hood, revealing a sharp-featured woman with short black hair and piercing green eyes. She wore a leather coat reinforced with metal plates and carried a staff carved with runes.
"Mira told me about you," she said. "My name's Kaelen. I'm an apprentice from the Aetherium Academy."
Clark's heart skipped. "A mage?"
Kaelen nodded. "And I came here to offer you an invitation."
"Invitation?"
"To the academy," she said. "Your fight with the bandits earned you minor attention, and not just from the villagers. You have strength—and something else. I can sense it."
Clark hesitated. He wasn't sure he was ready for this. But the mention of the academy stirred something inside him—a chance to learn more, to grow stronger, and maybe even find his way home.
"What's the catch?" Clark asked.
"No catch," Kaelen replied. "But the academy isn't easy. If you come with me, you'll be tested. Fail, and you'll be sent back here—or worse."
Clark glanced down at his hands, feeling the faint warmth of sunlight lingering beneath his skin.
"Alright," he said. "I'll go."
Kaelen smiled faintly. "Good. We leave at first light."
...
Clark lay awake that night, staring at the stars. The village had given him a place to recover, but it wasn't his home. If he wanted answers—and his powers back—he had to push forward.
And the Aetherium Academy felt like the first step.
As he closed his eyes, the system's message appeared one more time.
[System Update: Quest Activated—"Path of the Prodigy"]
[Objective: Prove yourself at the Aetherium Academy.]
[Reward: Skill Unlock (TBD).]
Clark smiled. "Bring it on."