Evan sat cross-legged in his tent, surrounded by the six books he had rented from the library. Each tome was dense with knowledge about runes, filled with complex diagrams and detailed explanations of concepts. Renting all six had cost him a hefty 90 contribution coins, a fortune for most novice apprentices. But weeks of diligent missions and careful resource management had left him with over 400 coins even after the purchase—a testament to his growing efficiency and determination.
Activating simulate, Evan scanned the books, mentally cataloging the runes and their intricate connections. The influx of knowledge was intoxicating. New concepts, shapes, and patterns flowed into his mind, expanding his understanding of how runes shaped and amplified magic. He could feel the potential for these insights to strengthen his Ember Engine and refine his spells.
As he immersed himself in the knowledge, a distant rumble interrupted his focus. At first, it sounded like the low growl of a storm rolling in, but the noise grew louder, more intense. Evan paused, his nucleus pulsing faintly as he turned his head toward the sound. Outside his tent, the faint hum of voices grew into a cacophony of murmurs.
"What's going on?" Evan muttered, standing and slipping out of his tent.
Stepping outside, he was met with a strange sight. Apprentices were emerging from their tents, craning their necks to look at the sky. Dense, swirling clouds gathered above the camp, dark and ominous, spinning in a slow vortex. The air was thick with tension, and an electric charge seemed to buzz faintly across Evan's skin.
Then, a blinding flash of lightning split the sky, followed immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. The lightning struck an open area in the camp, and for a moment, it was as if the entire camp held its breath. When the light faded, a figure stood where the lightning had struck.
The man who appeared was unlike anyone Evan had ever seen. His elegant robes of blue and white shimmered faintly, their luxurious fabric untouched by the violent storm. His presence radiated an unimaginable aura of power, a suffocating weight that pressed down on everyone present.
Sparks of residual electricity danced across his body and through his clothes, flickering like tiny stars. In one hand, he carried a small staff, shorter than most but carved with intricate detail. The blue gemstone at its tip glowed faintly, as though galaxies swirled within it. His face was sharp, with a neatly trimmed mustache and well-kept, slightly graying hair.
Evan froze, a wave of terror washing over him. The man's aura was overwhelming, stripping away any sense of safety or control. Evan felt as if the man's gaze could pierce his very soul, laying bare every secret he held. Yet when the man's eyes briefly passed over Evan, it was as though he was nothing more than a dried branch—utterly insignificant. The man's gaze moved methodically, scanning the camp with an expression devoid of emotion or concern.
Finally, the man stopped and spoke to the nearest apprentice, his voice calm but carrying an edge of authority. "Do not waste my time. Lead the way."
The apprentice in question froze, his face pale and his body trembling. He opened his mouth to respond but no words came. Instead, his thoughts raced: "Mother, why did you have to make me so unlucky? This is it. I'm going to die."
Before the apprentice could utter a word, a shadow streaked out of the tower at the camp's center. It moved with unnatural speed, stopping abruptly in front of the man. The shadow coalesced into a kneeling figure—a young man, a few years older than Evan, dressed in a flowing blue-and-gold cape.
"Apologies for the delay, great one," the figure said, his voice low and full of reverence. "Grand Archon Eltheris Vaelstrom, the Master will see you shortly. Please, allow me to escort you."
The mention of the name sent a ripple through the silent crowd. Eltheris Vaelstrom. It carried the weight of authority and legend, resonating like a storm rolling through the camp. Even those unfamiliar with the name instinctively recognized its significance.
The kneeling apprentice maintained his position, his head bowed deeply. He continued, his tone unwavering, "We are honored by your presence, Archon. This way, if you please."
The man's expression didn't change, but he gave a faint grunt of acknowledgment. "Hm."
Rising gracefully to his feet, the apprentice gestured toward the central tower. His movements were deliberate and practiced, as if he had rehearsed this moment countless times. Without another word, Eltheris Vaelstrom followed him, his steps measured and unhurried. Residual sparks of electricity danced faintly along his robes and staff, illuminating his path as he walked.
The entire camp held its breath, the oppressive silence stretching on as the two figures moved toward the tower. No one dared to speak or even shift until the massive doors of the tower closed behind them. Then, as if a spell had been lifted, the camp erupted into a cacophony of whispers and hurried conversations.
"Did he just say Eltheris Vaelstrom? Who the hell is that?"
"He's… he's an Archon. An actual Archon! They say they're the ones closest to the Council!"
"I don't even care who he is. Did you feel that? Like my soul was being ripped out!"
"And Vayner was on his knees! Knees!"
"Maybe we should have knelt too…"
"You? You froze so badly you probably would've toppled over if you tried."
"Shut up! I was preparing to fight!"
"Fight? Against that? Be serious."
Evan stood still, the name Eltheris Vaelstrom ringing in his ears. The sheer presence of the man had left an indelible impression, but now he was piecing together fragments from the conversations around him.
One particular whisper caught his attention: "Theron Vayner," someone muttered. "He's the leader of The Gilded Shade. Of course, he'd be the one to greet someone like that."
Evan's thoughts raced. So that's Vayner… the leader of Arvid's group. One of the most powerful advanced apprentices in the camp. The realization sent a chill down his spine. If someone like Vayner—a name already steeped in reputation and dominance—had shown such deference to Eltheris Vaelstrom, what did that say about the man who had arrived in a storm?
And why was he here?
Evan's nucleus pulsed faintly as unease settled over him. He turned his gaze back to the tower, its imposing structure now shrouded in an even deeper sense of mystery. Whatever was happening, it was far beyond anything he had prepared for. For the first time in weeks, Evan felt small—a single ember amidst a raging tempest.