After what felt like an eternity, he opened his eyes again, only to be met by the same burning fire. The flames licked the wooden beams of a chapel ceiling, casting warped shadows on its walls.
Voices were heard again, closer this time. He felt a few hands gripping his arms, trying to lift him up.
But his body was failing him, hollowed by exhaustion. His eyes went dark again.
A breath later his eyes snapped open again.
He sat up in an instant.
Thud.
Pain bloomed across his forehead as he crashed into something hard above him. A bedframe?
Blinking away the sting, he took in his surroundings. The fire was gone. The smoke, the voices, the chapel, everything just vanished.
In their place was an old narrow room. Off-white stone walls with wooden frames supporting the structure.
Two wooden bunk beds, placed close to two walls of the room leaving only enough space for a wooden table that was fastened to the wall between them, cluttered with pens, torn notebooks, and a chipped mug. The light filtering through a small window just behind it.
He turned to his left.
Two unfamiliar faces greeted him.
One was a freckled boy with curious eyes who peeked down at him from the top bunk. The other sat quietly at the table, flipping through a yellowed book.
"Lucian, are you okay?" the boy above asked gently, his voice full of concern.
Lucian?
Amadeus froze.
Who's Lucian?
Where am I exactly?
What is-
"I… I'm fine," he said instinctively, his voice coming out hoarse but calm. "Just a bad dream. Thanks for worrying, Edgar."
The name left his mouth before he even thought about it. It felt foreign and familiar all at once.
"You remember, right?" the boy at the desk said, not looking up from his book. "You're on cleaning duty today. Better hurry, Miss Prudence will be mad if you're late."
The voice was softer, more reserved.
"Yeah, Simon. Just…give me a second."
He leaned back against the wall, trying to steady his breathing. His mind struggled to make sense of everything. Then, without warning a sharp headache exploded inside his skull. He clutched his head and buried his face into the hard mattress desperately trying not to scream.
Unknown ad.
They were disjointed and fragmented. He saw through the eyes of a boy named Lucian, living in a rundown orphanage. A world similar to that of the Victorian era, but here magic was real. So were gods, demons, and all the things that should have stayed in bedtime stories and folktales.
Lucian was now eleven, on the cusp of the "Awakening" ceremony, a mysterious phenomenon where everyone awakens some kind of a talent.
But last night everything changed.
Lucian had quietly slipped out of the orphanage to catch a glimpse of the star-strewn sky on the rooftop. He never would've imagined what awaited him. A man cloaked entirely in black long robes appeared in front of him and dragged him away into an abandoned chapel. And there was the same ritual.
The same intricate symbols etched into the floor, the same thirteen barely living bodies arranged in a circle. And one of them was Lucian.
But that entity never came even after the man in the center had plunged a blade into his own chest.
Fire consumed the entire circle. Flesh crackled and screams tore through the night. All twelve were burnt to ashes.
Except for Lucian, his injuries healed in an instant.
He somehow lived in that sea of flame.
Those same robed figures who'd watched from the sidelines stepped in after the fire died out; they said nothing, and quietly dumped him back at the orphanage, as if nothing had happened.
Soon the pain faded.
Amadeus, now Lucian, jumped up from the bed, his joints felt stiff, but now he had a lot more to worry about rather than a stiff joint.
' I'll make sense of all this at a later time for now let's just complete the work at hand' Lucian thought as he stepped out of the narrow room and into a long hallway made of warped creaking wood. Doors lined both sides, some with cracks letting a small amount of light spill through.
His feet moved on instinct.
He reached the washroom, turned the rusting faucet, and splashed cold water on his face.
As he looked up he saw his reflection staring back at him from the cracked mirror above the sink, it felt so familiar. Still not his own.
He was nearly 5'7", unusually tall for an 11-year-old. His limbs were lanky, almost malnourished, with pale white skin, dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends, and light brown eyes that looked…tired. There was nothing remarkable about him. He was a face built to be forgotten.
He dried his face with an old towel, then walked to the cleaning closet, pulled out a bucket and mop, and began his morning task of cleaning the hallway.
It was tradition.
At eleven, children took on responsibilities around the orphanage like cleaning, cooking, laundry until their placement into a work-study program or an academy. None were allowed to stay past that age.
Lucian was one of the oldest now. His time was almost up.
As he wrung out the mop and began on the last stretch of the hall, the front door creaked open. A figure stepped inside, a woman in a simple worn habit. Her face looked aged and oddly kind with the softness of someone who'd spent a lifetime raising children that's not her own.
Miss Prudence.
She walked with slow purposeful steps and placed a gentle hand on Lucian's head.
"You're working very diligently today," she said, voice soft but firm. "Are you perhaps nervous, Lucian?"
Lucian lowered his gaze, the mop still in hand. "Not really, Miss Prudence. As you know I'll have my awakening ceremony in a week so it's almost time for me to leave this place for good. I just wanted to give back, even if in small ways. This place took care of me for as long as I can remember."
Miss Prudence gave a smile and spoke,
"Well, listen to you, speaking like a grown man all of a sudden." She reached into her sleeve and pulled out an white crisp envelope. Sealed with golden wax.
At its center was a radiant emblem of a dragon curled around a church spire and beams of light shining from behind. The crest of the Solaraine Academy.
One of the Three Great Academies of the world.
It stood in the heart of Calavaris, capital of the Calavaris Empire, one of the Three Great Empires.
Miss Prudence handed the letter to him with shining eyes.
"This arrived this morning," she said. "For Sir Lucian Wyrmsley."
Lucian froze.
"It seems you passed the written exam. Your hard work paid off, Lucian. Now stop mopping this dusty old floor and go take a look inside the letter."
With the letter still in his hand, Lucian sat in silence in his now vacant room.
He didn't know what to feel. He rubbed his fingers across the name etched into the letter.
It wasn't truly his name nor was this truly his dream. But he could remember the boy,the real Lucian, hunched over cracked books under candlelight, scribbling notes until his body gave up with exhaustion, reciting spells and combat formations in his whispers as he fell asleep.
With such a desperate determination and
a hope born from nothing but will to be something more than just another orphan.
This moment…it was supposed to be his.
Lucian's gaze dropped to the letter again, as the parchment shimmered in the light coming from the window, he sighed.
"I don't know if you're watching," he murmured barely above a whisper. "But you deserve this. You worked for this. And since I'm in your place now… I'll see it through. I'll get in. That's a promise."
But promises meant little without knowledge.
He needed to know what he was walking into. What kind of exam it would be. How the academy worked. What resources he could find.
But first,
Lucian broke the wax seal and unfolded the parchment, it read,
-Solaraine Academy
Est. 918 AE, Under the Divine Light of the god of light and order.
Capital Grounds, Crown Ward, Solmerel City, Veltharis Empire.
To Sir Lucian Wyrmsley,
Orphanage of Saint Odelia, District of Rubel.
Dear Sir Wyrmsley,
Congratulations.
By decree of the High Council of Solaraine,
You have been granted provisional admission to Solaraine Academy.
Your diligence and aptitude have not gone unnoticed. In recognition of your performance and potential, you are hereby summoned to appear before the Gates of Solaraine Academy exactly three months from the date of this letter.
There, you shall undertake the Second Phase of Initiation: a Practical Assessment designed to evaluate your command over your awakened talent, as well as your proficiency in both combat and non-combat disciplines.
As you are listed under the Orphaned Children's Protection Act, Solaraine Academy is pleased to provide a stipend to assist with your travels and preparations.
To retrieve it, place your right index finger upon the golden circle below.
-By Light, by Flame, by order.
May the Light of Velthar guide your path,
and may your name rise with honour.
High Chancellor Elro Daevanir
Solaraine Academy
Lucian stared at the last line for a long time before exhaling. His finger moved to the glowing seal. With a faint gold light, the seal melted into liquid gold, rippling outward in a circle. A moment later, a small pouch stitched from black velvet unfurled itself from the page and fell into his palm.
It was heavier than expected.
Lucian untied the string.
Inside were a handful of imperial golden solars, each stamped with insignia of the Empire on one side and scales on the other.
He blinked slowly.
"I can't really say if this is considered a lot," he murmured, turning the pouch over in his hand.
"Then again, the real Lucian only ever saw gold coins in books…so it must be quite a bit."
He continued, muttering to himself, "This solves my issue with supplies, at least... but the bigger problem is the practical exam."
His gaze drifted toward the parchment again as fingers tightened slightly around the pouch of coins.
"As far as I know, back when I used to binge-read fantasy novels these exams always ended up being combat-based. And with this fragile body there's no way I'll make it through if it's anything physical."
He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head. "That stupid Lucian, studying like a maniac day and night, and not once did he think about the practical exam. Did he really think books alone would get him into the most prestigious imperial academy? He should've been born in that world and just might make it but it's so different here."
He sighed.
"And it's a damn imperial institution, children from every corner of the Veltharis Empire will be there. Nobles born and raised just for this. They get formal training from tutors and they even have a general idea about their talents from birth as talents passed down through bloodlines, refined and tested by multiple generations. They've spent years tailoring their growth toward this very test. And here I'm crawling into this with a borrowed body and fragmented memories."
From what scraps he could recall from the real Lucian's mind, thousands of aspirants passed the written exam each year. But only around a thousand ever crossed the academy gates as students and even fewer made it into the higher houses. Lucian's advantage ended with ink and parchment. And everything else was blood and sweat and pure instinct. Things Lucian never lacked right now.
Now he was left with a dilemma.
"Well...whatever my talent turns out to be, the one thing that never betrays you is your body. So no loss in building that up."
His brows furrowed in thought. "Being a doctor in my past life gives me one advantage as I know what works. What to eat. How to train. But three months?" He exhaled, frustrated. "Three months won't sculpt a damn warrior… well unless"
His eyes sharpened.
"Unless I form a core."
That thought sent a ripple of clarity through him. A core would give him a solid foundation, strength, endurance, and the ability to even utilize his awakened abilities properly.
He turned toward the cluttered table, pushing aside few scattered quills and ink bottles before picking up a slim, faded book. The cover was scratched, but the title was still readable
-Basics of Cores and Circles-
As he flipped through the pages, Lucian came across diagrams illustrating the body's intricate network of meridians, channels through which mana flowed.
According to the book, with the right training methods one could gather mana from the surrounding air and condense it into a core or circles, They both were divided into three types based on their location in the body, whether in the abdomen, chest, or head determined its type, each type had their own advantages and disadvantages
A core formed in the abdomen is known as a Spirit Core and was ideal for external arts like swordsmanship, spearsmanship and the like, as it gave them access toba special form of mana called Aura. Auras were very versatile in nature as anything from body to weapon to even instruments could be coated with aura to amplify its power by several folds.
whereas a core in the chest region was referred to as a Body Core, and it suited those who used their body as weapons. It is mostly favored by martial artists who relied on brute strength, speed, and internal arts. As it changes mana to a special form known as Force, which wasn't versatile in any way but it gave them treacherous vitality and endurance along with raw power.
The final type was the Mind Core, located in the head. This core produced Spiritual Energy, a unique mana that enhanced brain function, reaction time, and allowed for telekinetic control and mental manipulation. Unlike the other types, spiritual energy was far more unique, as its effects vary greatly depending on one's innate talent.
Similar to the core of body practitioners the mages constructed Circles, structures that expanded one's capacity and control over mana. Circles were also categorized in three types based on their location and function.
The Body Circle was located in the abdomen region, and was commonly used by battle mages. It granted them high magic resistance and output, though at the cost of range as they could only cast magic close to their body.
The Mind Circle, positioned in the head, specialized in illusions and long-range magic. Mages with this circle had the widest casting range but often lacked durability in close combat.
After poring through the entire book, Lucian tried piecing together a method to form a core, hoping for even the slightest clue. But in the end, he was unsuccessful. The process of core construction was deliberately left out.
"My only hope is the Church. As far as I remember, they do provide a basic method after a child awakens and joins them." he muttered.
"For now… I should just focus on building a better body."
Having come to a conclusion, he stood up and began stretching his arms. But midway, his expression darkened. Without a word, he dropped back into the chair.
"Why am I so calm?" he whispered to himself.
"After what I witnessed…I shouldn't be. Anyone else would've been losing their mind. And yet here I am acting as if what I witnessed was something normal. What exactly did David do? The book…what was it about? how can someone else from this world be doing the same ritual written in that book?"
His mind wandered back to David's house, to the horrific scene, the despair and... that incomprehensible face of that entity.
The moment its image surfaced in his mind, his body tensed. A cold sweat broke across his skin. Then a searing pain came, As he doubled over and clutched his head with both hands as if trying to stop it from splitting open.
"Guh..what the hell uhhh..what..is h.." he choked.
Suddenly a bitter taste of burning sulphur flooded his nose and mouth.
His vision blurred. It felt as if his eyeballs were bubbling inside their sockets, his brain twisting, contorting, melting like wax in a furnace.
And just when it felt like he would lose consciousness, a soft white glow bloomed from his chest. It pulsed like a heartbeat and suddenly a gentle wave spread across his body. The agony disappeared in an instant.
"huf..huf..what just happened..?" he whispered, remaining frozen in place, breathing heavily.
He didn't understand what had just happened, nor did he dare to probe further. His survival instincts warned him not to delve any further.