The camp was alive with whispers, apprentices huddled together, their conversations hushed but frantic. Evan was still processing what he had witnessed when Cedric came running toward him, his face pale with anxiety.
"Evan, this is bad," Cedric said, his voice low but urgent.
Evan blinked, confused. "What do you mean? What's bad?"
Cedric grabbed his arm, pulling him slightly aside. "This. All of this! An Archon showing up here? That's not normal. There's no way this is something good. Definitely not."
Evan frowned, glancing toward the tower. The tension in the camp was palpable, the air heavy with unease. "You're jumping to conclusions," he said, though the knot in his stomach suggested otherwise.
Cedric shook his head vehemently. "No, Evan. You don't get it. Eltheris Vaelstrom. Do you know who that is? An Archon! The Archon of the Violet Lagoon! He doesn't just show up at random camps like this. If he's here, it means something huge is happening—and it's bad. It has to be bad."
Evan's thoughts raced. He knew what an Archon was—every apprentice did. Archons were the ultimate enforcers of magical law, responsible for resolving crises and protecting their assigned territories. They answered only to the High Council, an even more powerful governing body. For an Archon to leave the Violet City, the capital of their domain, and personally appear at the Arcane Camp was almost unthinkable.
Even Master Ardan, the camp's leader and one of the most respected mages in the region, would have to bow to an Archon's authority. For mere apprentices, the arrival of such a figure was akin to witnessing a force of nature.
Evan's gaze drifted back to the tower. The camp remained frozen in anticipation, no one daring to resume their activities. All eyes were fixed on the massive structure, waiting for some clue as to why the Archon had come.
After thirty agonizing minutes, the doors of the tower creaked open. A hush fell over the camp as Theron Vayner emerged, walking alongside Eltheris Vaelstrom. But something had changed. Theron, usually composed and unshakable, now seemed deeply troubled. His brows were furrowed, and his movements lacked their usual confidence.
The Archon, too, was different. Gone was the impatient, detached demeanor he had displayed earlier. Now, his expression carried something unfamiliar—pity. Evan shuddered, feeling as though the man's gaze conveyed not just power but a profound sorrow that he couldn't comprehend.
The two walked in silence to an open area of the camp. Once there, the Archon stopped and turned to Theron, who immediately bowed his head. The Archon gave a slight nod, then raised his hand, the staff in his grasp glowing faintly. Without warning, a bolt of lightning struck from the sky, enveloping the Archon in a blinding flash of light. The deafening roar of thunder followed, and when the light faded, the Archon was gone.
Theron stood alone, unscathed despite the lightning striking so close to him. The sky, once dark and turbulent, began to clear, the heavy clouds dissolving into a serene blue. Theron exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of the world rested on them.
An advanced apprentice approached him cautiously. "Vayner, what just happened?"
Theron hesitated, his expression conflicted. For a moment, it seemed as though he might explain, but then he shook his head. "Return to your work," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. With that, he lowered his head and walked back toward the tower, disappearing behind its heavy doors.
The camp erupted into murmurs once more.
"What did the Archon want?"
"Why did Vayner seem so… shaken?"
"Did we just witness the start of something bad?"
"Why didn't he tell us anything? I hate this."
Evan stood apart from the others, his mind spinning. The sight of the Archon, the way he had vanished, Theron's reaction—it all left him deeply unsettled. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far greater.
"Vayner…" Evan muttered, his voice barely audible. "He's the leader of The Gilded Shade. One of the camp's most powerful advanced apprentices. And yet, even he seemed shaken. Who was that man? What's happening?"
Evan felt a sudden urgency. The world around him seemed to grow larger and more dangerous with each passing moment, and he realized how small he still was in comparison. He couldn't afford to wait. Destiny wouldn't pause for him to catch up. If the storm was coming, he needed to be ready to face it.
He returned to his tent, his mind laser-focused. There was no time for hesitation. Pulling out the six books he had rented, Evan activated simulate and assimilate, immersing himself in the patterns and concepts they contained. Every rune, every line, every definition became a part of him as he worked tirelessly to absorb their knowledge.
His nucleus pulsed in tandem with his efforts, churning through subproduct combinations and feeding insights into his simulations. The hum of activity in his mental space matched the intensity of his determination. Each test, each adjustment brought him closer to understanding.
Evan sat cross-legged in his tent, his breathing steady as he closed his eyes and accessed his mental space. Within the glow of his nucleus, the three books on fire magic he had simulated earlier hovered in perfect clarity. Each one represented a wealth of knowledge, meticulously scanned and stored for moments like this.
He focused on the first book, the one that detailed Flame Spark. He had spent weeks mastering it, dissecting its runic structure until every line and curve was second nature. The spell had evolved under his refinement, shaped by the Ember Engine into something uniquely his. He had pushed it as far as it could go for now—its foundations were solid, and its applications versatile.
Satisfied, Evan shifted his focus to the second book. Its contents lit up in his mind like a blazing flame, unveiling the intricate mechanics of a new spell: Fire Wave. Unlike the concentrated power of Flame Spark, Fire Wave was designed for sweeping, wide-reaching destruction. The potential applications excited Evan, but he knew the spell's complexity demanded a methodical approach. He couldn't modify what he didn't fully understand.
"This is the next step," he murmured, his nucleus pulsing faintly as he prepared to immerse himself in the spell's structure.