The afternoon light filtering through his bedroom window cast long shadows across the scattered academic awards and scientific posters that covered his walls – testaments to a life spent in studious isolation.
"What did you just say to me?" Sarah's voice quavered, her normally warm brown eyes now wide with shock. "Jorvan, please tell me I misheard you."
The 14-year-old adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses, his pale face flushed with both shame and a desperate kind of determination. "I... I meant what I said, Mom. These feelings... I've tried to fight them, to ignore them, but I can't anymore. You're the only woman who's ever understood me, who's ever been there for me."
"Stop it!" Sarah's hand shot out, striking Jorvan across the face with a sharp crack that seemed to echo through the room. "I'm your mother! This is sick, Jorvan. This is wrong!" Her voice broke as tears began streaming down her face.
"Where did I go wrong? All these years, I tried to raise you right, to protect you..."
Jorvan touched his stinging cheek, his own tears falling freely now. "You didn't do anything wrong! It's just... every time I try to talk to other women, I freeze up. They don't understand me like you do. They don't care about physics or theoretical mathematics. But you've always listened, always encouraged me..."
"Because I'm your mother!" Sarah shouted, running her hands through her greying hair in distress. "That's what mothers do! We don't... this isn't..." She stumbled backward, bumping into his desk and sending a stack of scientific journals cascading to the floor.
Neither of them noticed at first when the hardwood beneath their feet began to emit a soft, bluish glow. It wasn't until the light intensified, casting ethereal patterns across their tear-stained faces, that they realised something extraordinary was happening.
"Mom?" Jorvan whispered, fear replacing the anguish in his voice.
"What's happening?"
The light surged upward, enveloping them both in a brilliant azure column. Sarah reached for her son instinctively, maternal protection overriding her revulsion from moments before. There was a sensation of weightlessness, of reality bending and twisting around them, and then...
-
They were standing in a vast circular chamber, its weathered stone walls rising hundreds of feet into a domed ceiling pierced by a single round opening that admitted a shaft of golden sunlight.
The floor beneath them was inscribed with intricate geometric patterns that still flickered with traces of the blue energy that had transported them.
They weren't alone. Three other people stood with them, all looking equally disoriented: a tall woman in surgical scrubs, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun; a muscular man in military fatigues, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that was no longer there; and an elderly gentleman in tweed, clutching a leather-bound book to his chest.
Before any of them could speak, figures emerged from the shadows at the edge of the chamber. They wore robes of deep crimson, their faces grave as they approached the bewildered group.
The apparent leader, a woman with silver-streaked black hair and eyes that seemed to hold centuries of wisdom, stepped forward.
"Welcome, Chosen Ones," she said, her voice resonating with authority. "I am High Sage Elara, and you have been summoned to the world of Al'gerath in its hour of greatest need."
Jorvan and Sarah exchanged glances, their personal drama temporarily forgotten in the face of this impossible situation. The military man stepped forward, his stance wary but professional. "What exactly do you mean by 'summoned'? And where the hell are we?"
Elara gestured, and an image appeared in the air before them – a three-dimensional map of a world that was definitely not Earth. "For millennia, our world has maintained a delicate balance between the forces of order and chaos. But now, an ancient race known as the Draenikor has emerged from their dimensional prison, threatening to destroy everything we hold dear."
The image shifted, showing grotesque creatures with metallic scales and multiple limbs, their eyes glowing with an unnatural red light. Several people in the group gasped, but Jorvan leaned forward, his scientific curiosity momentarily overriding his fear.
"The Draenikor possess technology far beyond our understanding," Elara continued. "They blend machine and magic in ways that defy our most advanced scholars. Our own weapons and spells prove nearly useless against them. That is why we have reached across dimensions to bring you here—each of you possesses qualities that, together, may be our only hope."
-
The initial relief of their arrival was short-lived as one of the robed figures, a stern-faced man with a closely-trimmed silver beard, stepped forward with confusion etched on his face. "High Sage Elara," he said, his voice carrying across the chamber, "there appears to be a discrepancy. Our summoning ritual was calibrated for four heroes—the Warrior, the Healer, the Scholar, and the Guardian. Yet I see five before us."
All eyes turned to Jorvan, who seemed to shrink under their scrutiny. Sarah instinctively stepped closer to her son, but even she couldn't deny the peculiarity of the situation.
High Sage Elara studied Jorvan intently, her ancient eyes seeming to peer into his very soul. "The boy appears to have been drawn in by his connection to his mother. The threads of fate are mysterious, but rarely mistaken. For now, he shall be housed within the castle walls, as befits the son of a chosen hero."
The next few hours passed in a blur of ceremony and explanation. Each of the four heroes was presented with a crystalline pendant – their interface to what the sages called "the System," a mysterious force that would help them grow in power and skill. Jorvan watched in quiet desperation as his mother's pendant glowed with a fierce blue light, marking her as a Warrior-class hero.
Sarah was assigned to train under Master Kaden Drake, a renowned swordsman in his early fifties. His weathered face bore the scars of countless battles, and his steel-gray eyes held both wisdom and intensity. Jorvan noticed how his mother seemed to stand straighter in Kaden's presence, how her eyes lingered on him during their first training session.
Days turned into weeks, and Jorvan saw less and less of his mother. She threw herself into her training with passionate dedication, spending long hours in the practice yards with Master Drake. The System enhanced her progress rapidly – her movements becoming more fluid, her strength increasing beyond normal human limits.
One evening, seeking his mother after another day of being left alone, Jorvan found her in the castle gardens with Kaden. They stood close together in the fading light, her hand resting on his chest as they kissed beneath a flowering arbor. Jorvan felt his world crumbling anew, a different kind of betrayal from the one that had brought them here.
"Mother!" His voice cracked with emotion. "How could you?"
Sarah pulled away from Kaden, but instead of the guilt Jorvan expected to see, her face showed only irritation. "Jorvan, enough. This has to stop. I'm building a new life here – a meaningful one. I'm needed here."
"And what about me?" Jorvan stepped forward, his hands clenched into trembling fists. "Am I just supposed to disappear?"
Kaden moved between them, his powerful frame dwarfing Jorvan's slight build. "You need to learn to be a man," he growled. "Your mother isn't your possession. She deserves happiness – real happiness, not your twisted fantasy."
Before Jorvan could react, Kaden's hand shot out, catching him across the jaw. The blow sent him sprawling onto the garden path. Sarah turned away, her silence more devastating than any physical pain.
Kaden grabbed Jorvan by the collar, dragging him to his feet. "Come with me, boy. It's time you learned your place." He pulled Jorvan through the darkening castle grounds, ignoring his struggles and protests.
They arrived at a massive stone wall built into the side of a mountain. A heavy iron grate was set into the rock, revealing a bottomless darkness beyond. "Know what this is?" Kaden's voice was cold. "This is where we throw those too dangerous or too corrupt to live among decent folk. The deep cells. No one's ever climbed out."
Jorvan's eyes widened in terror as understanding dawned. "No, please—"
"You're sick, boy. Your mother is a hero now – she has a destiny to fulfill. And you're holding her back with your perversion." Kaden's grip tightened. "The System chose her, not you. You're nothing but an accident – a mistake in the summoning."
With a powerful shove, he pushed Jorvan through the grate. The last thing Jorvan saw was his mother's lover's satisfied smile as darkness swallowed him whole, his screams echoing off the ancient stone as he plummeted into the abyss.
The fall seemed endless, the darkness absolute. Jorvan's mind raced through calculations – terminal velocity, air resistance, the probability of survival. But as the wind whipped past him, something else stirred in the darkness. Something ancient. Something that had been waiting for someone just like him – someone broken, desperate, and filled with a burning need for revenge.
In the depths of the abyss, forbidden magic began to stir.