I pushed the heavy door open.
What I saw on the other side left me momentarily speechless.
The first thing I noticed was a dwarf with a voluminous orange mustache that seemed to shine under the light of industrial-style lamps. He wore a grease-stained white shirt, dark trousers, and sturdy brown boots. A pair of steampunk-style goggles was firmly set on his face, with lenses gleaming as he examined a strange device on the table in front of him. With tools in hand, he tightened small screws and muttered incomprehensible words to himself.
"So this is Miguel," I thought. He seemed so engrossed in his work that he didn't even notice my entrance.
The laboratory around him was organized chaos, so rich in detail that it seemed impossible to take it all in at once. Gears and metallic parts of all sizes were scattered across tables and shelves, some covered in dust, while others gleamed as if recently polished. Strange prototypes occupied almost every bit of free space: partially dismantled mechanical arms, boxes with devices blinking in shades of blue and green, and an incomplete automaton leaning against the corner, its eyes seemingly watching me.
The ceiling was high, supported by exposed metal beams, and large glass-dome lamps with softly glowing amber filaments hung from it. Copper and bronze pipes ran along the walls, some releasing faint puffs of steam that quickly dissipated into the air.
At the center of the lab was a larger table than the others, covered in tools and parts of an incomplete machine. It was surrounded by several swivel chairs with rusty wheels. A large window on the opposite wall let in natural light, but the view outside was obscured by stained glass partially covered with scribbled diagrams.
A giant blackboard stood against another wall, covered in notes and sketches of mechanisms I couldn't decipher. There was also a small steam-powered generator, emitting soft hisses that gave the space a constant, soothing hum.
"It's like being inside a living machine," I thought, impressed.
While I was already awestruck by the chaotic and intricate environment, nothing could prepare me for meeting Miguel. He finally lifted his head from the work he was adjusting, and his expression—a mix of humor and enthusiasm—did not go unnoticed. "A new apprentice?"
Before I could respond, his eyes fell on the floating magical servant in front of me. He gestured with his hand, as if summoning the being of light closer. Without warning, the servant shone brightly before exploding into countless glittering fragments that scattered into the air.
Miguel ran his gloved fingers through the particles floating around, analyzing them silently. His eyes rose again, and he finally locked his gaze on me. "So, Tylerl, are you willing to be my apprentice?"
Despite the strangeness of the situation, I answered quickly, "I am willing!"
He smiled, stroking the orange mustache that seemed to be his trademark feature. "Good. I've had a few apprentices in the past, but recently, three of them died."
His fingers drummed the side of his table as he continued, "Two exploded during experiments. The other... well, let's just say his invention was too good. The poor fool forgot to create a mechanism to shut it off. Hahaha!"
He laughed so hard that his small figure tilted backward. I, on the other hand, remained silent. "This dwarf is crazy," I thought, holding back my reaction, though I couldn't suppress the chill that ran down my spine.
When his laughter finally subsided, Miguel took a deep breath, removed his goggles, and placed them on top of his head. It was then that I saw something I would never forget: his eyes. There were no irises, just empty eye sockets covered by a pulsating golden light.
He seemed to notice my discomfort and spoke lightly, "Ah, accidents happen. That's part of the process, right? But don't worry. We'll begin your initiation."
"Initiation? What initiation?" I asked, still trying to process everything that had happened so far.
He replied matter-of-factly, as if it were obvious: "The initiation of a mage, of course."
Miguel began to approach me. Despite his short stature, there was an overwhelming presence in his demeanor. He seemed larger than anyone I had ever met. He seemed to know it too, as he stopped very close, lifting his face to look at me.
"But first," he continued, "tell me, Tylerl, why do you want to become a mage?"
I hesitated for a moment. Not because I didn't know the answer, but because the words that came to mind carried weight. I met Miguel's gaze, aware that any sign of weakness could be my undoing. Finally, I found the words:
"I want to become a mage because I hunger for power and knowledge." My hands clenched into fists as I spoke. "I am willing to do anything to achieve what I desire. Ever since I discovered this magical world and left my parents' territory, I knew that to fulfill my goals, I'd have to go to the very limits. No matter the cost. I'm willing to kill... and to die... for this dream."
The words came out stronger than I expected, and my eyes met Miguel's with intensity.
He looked at me for a moment, unmoving, before throwing his head back and bursting into laughter. "Hahahaha!" He laughed so hard that he had to double over to catch his breath.
I stood firm, waiting for his laughter to die down. When he finally straightened up, Miguel adjusted his goggles again and looked at me, his golden eyes burning like an intense flame. "You'll realize the world is full of boys like you. Ambitious. Ruthless. Willing to do anything for power... Some will even commit sins the magical world will never forgive, all in the name of their insatiable pursuit."
He paused, taking a deep breath before shaking his head. "But that doesn't matter now. What matters is that you're here, ready to face whatever comes."
Miguel smiled again, but this time there was something more serious in his gaze. He took a step back, spreading his arms as if presenting the chaotic lab around us. "So, let's begin!"
Miguel turned efficiently, walking toward the central table in the lab. His nimble hands picked up a few peculiar tools and a small pile of softly glowing blue crystals. He turned back to me, pointing to a small box in a corner of the lab. "Come, boy. Leave your items there."
"Yes, sir," I responded promptly, carrying my belongings to the box. I placed them carefully, trying not to show any hesitation. When I turned back, Miguel was already holding a strange object, something that resembled a measuring tape, but its numbers flickered erratically every time it was pulled.
"Before any direct contact with magical energy, we need to conduct a basic analysis. These measurements are crucial for calibrating the potions and devices I'll be using. After all..." He let out a sudden laugh. "I don't want you overdosing on energy and exploding on the first day, right?"
His words sent a chill down my spine, but I kept my expression steady. He began measuring me, pulling the tape and muttering to himself. "1.75 meters. Not bad."
Next, he led me to an unusual mechanical scale, which creaked slightly as I stepped on. After adjusting a few gears, he noted my weight. "Seventy-five kilos... You're well-balanced, boy."
After a few more measurements and notes in a notebook that seemed to update itself, Miguel announced, "Alright. Everything's ready for us to begin."
He walked over to a large lever fixed to one of the walls. With a decisive motion, he pulled it. A metallic sound echoed through the lab: "Clang."
The floor around Miguel began to transform. The metallic material seemed to melt and rearrange itself into a complex circular formation, filled with glowing golden runes and symbols. A strange energy began flowing through the room, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end.
The laboratory lights dimmed, leaving only the golden flame in the center of the formation. It pulsed like a living heart.
Miguel turned to me, his golden eyes shining with a serious intensity. "Now, give me your hand!"
I extended my hand, hesitant but resolute. His palm, smaller than mine, gripped it firmly. There was a strength in his grip that felt disproportionate to his small stature.
"Following the rites of ancient times," he began, "I shall guide you, Tylerl Rustel, onto the path of a Mage!"
The energy around us seemed to grow stronger as Miguel began speaking in a strange tongue. Though I had never heard it before, the words somehow made sense. It was as if they were etched deep within my mind.
"Repeat after me!" he commanded.
"I swear! I will eternally seek the truth!" The words spilled from my lips, almost as if my mouth acted on its own.
My voice, still youthful and tinged with traces of immaturity, echoed through the lab.
"Without my mentor's permission, I swear I will not reveal any of the knowledge my mentor imparts to me..."
Miguel continued the oath, and I repeated every word. Our voices began to merge, creating an almost otherworldly sound.
At the heart of the formation, the golden flame suddenly flared, burning with an intensity that was almost terrifying. The heat seemed to pierce through my skin, but it didn't hurt.
Finally, the flame diminished, leaving only a gentle glow. Miguel released my hand and stepped back. He smiled, adjusting his goggles as he said, "Congratulations on officially becoming a Level 0 Acolyte!"
I looked at my hands, turning them slowly. Something felt different. It was as if the world around me had shifted in some inexplicable way. There was a new, invisible weight.
Miguel watched me intently before speaking again: "Welcome to the beginning of true power, boy. From here on out, your journey will only grow more interesting... or more dangerous."
I swallowed hard, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. "I was born for this moment."
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