The moonlight bathed Kaisel in silver as he reached into the air and drew an object from the subspace. It was black and oval-shaped, adorned with a crimson gem embedded at its center, its surface etched with faintly glowing runes. With a mere thought, the gem pulsed with red light. The blood staining his body and sword began to twist unnaturally, rising into the air like a thick, swirling mist.
The blood gathered slowly, pulled toward the artifact. One by one, the droplets were absorbed into the gem, vanishing without a trace as the engravings burned brighter, casting flickers of red light across his pale features. He exhaled—long, quiet, and cold. His eyes were unreadable.
The sword and the artifact both vanished into subspace.
So did he.
The forest fell still, as though he had never been there.
Inside the manor, within Kaisel's private chamber, space distorted. The air rippled like water—and Kaisel stepped out from the disturbance. The room was vast and opulent. Velvet curtains hung from high-arched windows, the walls were lined with dark wood and golden trim, and the floor was covered in rich, embroidered carpet. A grand bed dominated the chamber—its frame carved from blackwood and crowned with twisting silver patterns, the sheets deep crimson and soft as silk. Everything bore the mark of nobility: elegance, control, and the quiet power of old blood.
Kaisel said nothing. He stepped across the room and exited into the hallway.
The moment he did, he came face to face with Anton.
"Brother, where have you been? I searched for you everywhere—you weren't in your study, the library, or even the underground," Anton said. His voice held no clear emotion. It wasn't relief or anger, not even frustration. Just a steady, unreadable calm that somehow made the question feel heavier.
"I was at the annex tower," Kaisel replied, tone cool and indifferent. "Looking through some books. Why were you looking for me?"
"…No reason," Anton answered after a brief pause. "I came to the study to report a few matters, but you weren't there… and then I couldn't find you anywhere."
Despite his composed words, the truth was far less calm. Ever since Kaisel had returned, Anton had lived with a quiet, persistent fear. His brother had left the Ravengard Duchy when he was almost eleven years old, vanishing without a word. Anton, only nine at the time, had waited day after day, hoping. The years that followed were filled with silence and uncertainty. And now, even after Kaisel's return, the nightmares still lingered—the fear that one day, Kaisel might disappear again.
"Hm… Tell me about it tomorrow," Kaisel said flatly. "And have the servants prepare a bath."
He paused at the doorway, then added, "You don't have to worry. I'm not going anywhere."
He understood. He had seen it in Anton's eyes—the quiet anxiety, the restless search. That familiar fear. And though Kaisel rarely offered comfort, he knew those words were needed now.
Anton was silent for a long moment before nodding. "Yes…"
.....
In the early morning, as the first light of dawn stretched across the estate, the knights of Ravengard completed their daily regimen—running in formation, followed by rigorous drills in the training yard. The sounds of footfalls and clashing practice swords faded into silence as the sun began to rise above the horizon.
Inside the knights' refectory, Jacob had just finished his breakfast when Ezra appeared, with the mage Jennet quietly following behind.
Ezra stopped beside him and spoke plainly. "Go with her."
Jacob's expression tightened. He didn't need to ask why.
"Y-Yes, Captain," he said, rising to his feet.
The other knights and Jacob's friends didn't understand what was going on.
Jacob could feel their stares on his back as he followed Jennet toward the exit, a quiet storm of uncertainty building behind every step.
.....
Jacob made his way to the east side of the grounds, where a narrow corridor connected the knight's quarters to a section of the manor. A lone tower stood nearby, casting a long shadow in the morning light. But they weren't heading into the tower. Instead, Jennet led him to a modest structure beside it.
It was a library—not large, but not particularly small either. This library housed books of lesser value or relevance, a place for general reference. The main library inside the manor was much grander and strictly restricted. Only those with proper clearance could enter it, as it contained rare tomes, confidential records, and arcane documents. Kaisel, of course, had given the mages' permission to access this one freely.
Jennet and Jacob walked through the narrow aisles lined with shelves, the scent of parchment and dust lingering in the air. In the center of the room stood a large reading desk, with several books scattered across its surface. A young man sat there, flipping through a thick volume.
He looked to be around Jacob's age, with tousled blond hair, a short mustache, and calm brown eyes. He wore a simple shirt and trousers—plain and functional, typical of a commoner's attire in the manor. Nothing ornate or magical about him at first glance.
Looking up, the man offered a gentle smile. "Oh, you must be Jacob, right?"
His voice matched the expression—soft and friendly.
"Yes… and you are?" Jacob asked, blinking.
"Oh, apologies for not introducing myself sooner. I'm Filip, a mage. I'll be your instructor."
"Eh…?"
Jacob's surprise slipped out before he could stop it. He had assumed Jennet would be the one instructing him.
Jennet, noticing the reaction, gave a faint chuckle. "Since you've introduced yourselves, I'll leave you to your work, then."
With that, she turned and exited, leaving Jacob standing there, still trying to process what was happening.
"Okay…" Filip replied with a small nod.
Jacob didn't respond. He watched Jennet leave the room, then turned his attention back to Filip.
"Take a seat," Filip said, gesturing to the chair across the desk.
Once they were both settled and a few pleasantries had passed, Filip straightened a stack of papers, then looked at Jacob with a calm, instructive gaze.
"Since you have no prior experience with magic, we'll start from the fundamentals," he began. "Think of this as your first proper lesson."
Jacob nodded silently, listening intently.
"To begin with, all mages draw power from mana. This is the energy that exists within us and all around us. However, raw mana alone is not enough. To use magic effectively, a mage must also rely on their innate attribute—such as fire, wind, or water—as well as knowledge, willpower, and imagination. These are the pillars of spellcasting."
Filip paused, giving Jacob a moment to absorb the information.
"Magic, as we know it today, is the result of centuries of exploration and discovery. The great mages of the past paved the way for us, documenting their findings and building systems to help future generations—like yourself—understand and master it. But before we delve into techniques, you must understand the historical foundation upon which all magic is built."
He reached for a worn book on the table and opened it to a bookmarked page.
"History is divided into five major eras—each one marking a significant chapter in the development of the world and of magic itself."
He raised a finger, beginning the count.
The First Era is known as the Era of Creation. It marks the origin of everything: the birth of the world, the elements, and the foundation of life itself. However, very little is known about this era. Most records are lost, and what remains is often fragmented or mythologized.
The Second Era is called the Era of Miracles. It was a time of wonder, when countless miraculous events were said to have occurred—most notably, the first discovery of magic by intelligent beings. But like the Era of Creation, information about this period is scarce and often veiled in legend rather than fact.
Next is the Third Era, the Era of Kings. This was when humans and other intelligent races began forming civilizations and founding kingdoms. More concrete historical records begin from this point onward.
The Fourth Era is known as the Era of War. A brutal age of widespread conflict—massive continental wars between nations, races, and powerful beings. Much of what shaped the modern world was forged in this era's flames.
And finally, the Fifth Era—the Era of Silence. A strange and quiet time, marked by the disappearance of many ancient beings and civilizations. What exactly happened remains uncertain, but the world changed drastically after it."
"Um… sorry to interrupt," Jacob said, shifting slightly in his seat. "But… why are you telling me all this? I thought I was here to learn magic."
Filip chuckled softly. "Ah, because it is necessary. For a mage, knowledge is essential. History, theory, philosophy—even mundane subjects—can all influence how you understand and use magic. The more you know, the more paths open up to you."
He paused, then added with a grin, "Unless, of course, you're Milton Hobbins."
To be continued .