Darkness. Endless, suffocating darkness.
Lucian's consciousness stirred, floating in the abyss. His mind, once sharp, felt sluggish, like trying to grasp smoke with bare hands. There was no body to move, no breath to take—just the eternal silence pressing in from all sides.
Where am I?
He tried to recall his last memory. He had been human once, hadn't he? A man of ambition, perhaps? Or had he always been… this?
A fragment surfaced—pain, a blinding light, and then… nothing.
But something had changed.
Lucian's awareness expanded, stretching beyond the void. Though he lacked a body, he could sense something beyond the darkness. Faint whispers echoed in the distance, too muffled to decipher. A dim, golden glow pulsed, barely visible through the layers of shadow that imprisoned him.
Then, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Lucian heard a voice.
"What do you think it is?"
"Some kind of antique? Looks valuable."
The voices were distant but clear. The whisper of existence outside his prison grew stronger. Lucian focused, reaching out with an instinct he didn't fully understand.
And suddenly—he felt.
Not a body, but something different. A strange, curved surface encased him, smooth and cold to the touch. Glass. He was inside something. A bottle.
Memories rushed back like a crashing wave.
Lucian had not simply been transported—he had been transformed.
He was no longer human. No longer flesh and blood. He had become something else—something ancient, something cursed.
And the bottle was his prison.
A hand wrapped around the glass.
Lucian's awareness jolted. The sensation was foreign, alien. His prison had been untouched for what felt like lifetimes. But now, someone had found him.
The voices grew clearer.
"A sealed bottle… covered in weird symbols."
"Looks like runes. Maybe it's some old relic?"
Lucian focused on the minds of the ones holding him, trying to see through their eyes. The moment he did, the world beyond the bottle snapped into focus.
The glow of flickering torchlight illuminated a stone chamber, its walls damp and crumbling. Two men stood hunched over a wooden table, inspecting the ancient bottle that trapped Lucian.
One was tall and lean, his features sharp, his eyes gleaming with greed. The other was short and shifty, his fingers twitching with nervous excitement. Both were dressed in ragged cloaks, their clothes stained with dust and sweat.
Thieves. Tomb raiders.
Lucian had seen their kind before. Greedy souls, always searching for treasure, never considering the price.
A smile—if he still had lips—might have formed.
He had been waiting.
The tall man traced a finger over the intricate runes etched into the bottle's surface. "I bet we could sell this for a fortune," he muttered. "It's clearly magical."
The shifty man licked his lips. "Or…" he whispered, his voice trembling with excitement, "we use it."
Lucian felt something stir. Yes.
The tall man scoffed. "You don't even know what it does."
"Magic bottles always do something," the shifty man insisted. "Genies, spirits, curses—it's worth a shot."
Lucian's essence coiled within the glass. They were so close.
The tall man hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But if something goes wrong, it's on you."
The shifty man grinned and reached for the cork.
Click.
The bottle opened.
A wave of power rippled through the chamber. The torches flickered wildly, shadows twisting unnaturally across the stone walls. The air grew heavy, thick with something ancient and unseen.
Lucian felt free. Not fully—his prison still bound him—but now, he could speak.
His voice was not a sound but a whisper that curled through the chamber like smoke.
"Three wishes."
The men froze.
Lucian felt their fear, their hunger, their greed. It was always the same.
"Three wishes… in exchange for a price."
The shifty man's breathing quickened. "D-Did you hear that?"
The tall man swallowed. "Yeah."
Lucian waited. He had spent centuries waiting. He could wait a little longer.
The shifty man grinned. "Three wishes, huh?" His voice was filled with greed. "Let's test it out."
Lucian almost laughed. They always rushed in.
The shifty man licked his lips. "I wish for gold."
Lucian felt the wish take shape, twisting through the unseen laws that governed his existence. The bottle pulsed with dark energy.
Then—gold rained from the air.
Coins clattered against the stone floor, their metallic gleam reflecting the torchlight. Piles of gold, far more than the men could carry, filled the chamber.
The shifty man's eyes widened in shock, then in triumph. He let out a laugh. "It worked!"
The tall man looked around in awe, but Lucian could sense his hesitation. Unlike his companion, this one was wary.
Then came the price.
The shifty man's laughter cut off. His face twisted in sudden pain, his body convulsing. He aged before their eyes—his skin wrinkling, his hair turning gray.
Lucian watched in amusement. Equal exchange.
The man had wished for gold, for wealth beyond measure. The bottle had given it to him. But in return, it had taken the one thing he would never get back—time.
The shifty man gasped, his fingers trembling. "W-What's happening?"
The tall man stepped back, horror in his eyes. "You… you look older."
Lucian's whisper curled through the air once more.
"Every wish has a price."
The shifty man's hands flew to his face. His skin sagged, his breath came in ragged gasps. He had lost years of his life in mere seconds.
Panic filled his eyes, but greed still burned within them.
Lucian almost felt pity. Almost.
The shifty man turned to his companion, voice desperate. "It's fine! We have two more wishes! I can fix this!"
Lucian waited, amusement thrumming through his essence.
The tall man, still hesitant, clenched his fists. Then, after a long silence, he stepped forward. "Then let me make the next one."
Lucian's whisper coiled around them.
"Speak your wish."
The tall man hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I wish…" He locked eyes with the bottle. "I wish to know how your power works."
Lucian's essence stirred.
For the first time in centuries, he felt intrigued.
Knowledge. A rare request. Most men wished for power, for riches, for eternal life. Few ever asked to understand.
But understanding always came at a cost.
The runes on the bottle flared to life, their glow burning into the tall man's eyes. Lucian granted the wish.
And the man screamed.