Day 155, Week 19, Month Verdantis, Year 12123, Era Elyndris (Present)
Atlantis Magic School, Floor 36, Dark Art Classroom
20:00
Candles flickered ominously as shadows danced around the room, their light barely piercing the encroaching darkness. "Professor," Lenz began, his voice trembling like a leaf caught in a gust, "do you really believe Rinoa understands the danger?" Anxiety veiled his features, and his fingers kept twitching at the hem of his cloak.
Elbert leaned forward, his gaze sharp as an unsheathed blade. "Do any of us truly grasp what we're dabbling in? This isn't mere magic, Lenz. This is perilous sorcery." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "It could awaken things best left undisturbed." The realization hung heavily in the air between them, thick enough to cut.
"But... the council thinks she has potential," Lenz protested, his brows knitting together. "Shouldn't that count for something?" His voice rose slightly, betraying his desperation.
"Its potential..." Elbert replied, swirling his wine absentmindedly, his brow furrowing deeper with each rotation. "Her ambition could lead us all into darkness." He set the glass down with a sharp clink, a sound that echoed ominously through the silence.
Lenz gulped, his throat dry as dust. "And if she succeeds, how do we control what's unleashed? Can anyone control it?" The tremor in his voice was more pronounced now, fear flickering in his eyes.
"That's the question," Elbert remarked dryly, a shadow of darkness creeping into his voice. "What happens when we unleash forces beyond our comprehension?" He leaned back, crossing his arms, the candlelight highlighting the grim lines of his face.
"I—I don't like this," Lenz admitted, his hands fidgeting restlessly with his robe. The atmosphere seemed to thicken around them, as if the walls were closing in. "What if we're wrong?" His voice was barely a whisper now, laden with the weight of his doubt.
Elbert's expression turned contemplative, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "Wrong? Or perhaps it's just the beginning," he mused, a shadow of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Imagine the power at stake, Lenz." His tone sharpened, urgency spilling forth. "Will you stand by while our fate hangs in the balance?"
Lenz swallowed hard, fear gnawing at him. "It feels like we're gambling with lives we don't even know," he said, his voice tinged with despair as he glanced around, half-expecting the walls to close in on them.
"Precisely. Every choice is a roll of dice in this game," Elbert replied, his voice low, dangerous. "What price will we pay for knowledge?" He leaned forward again, intensity radiating from him like heat from a forge.
"A high one, I fear," Lenz said quietly, unnerved, the uncertainty thickening the air around them like a fog that refused to lift.
Elbert waved dismissively, a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Aficionado, Lenz, not a craftsman. But then, every bottle tells a tale, doesn't it? We chase after mysteries, both in blends and spells," he said, his voice dropping an octave, shadows flickering in his gaze like candle flames bent by a sudden gust. "If Rinoa's project earns the council's blessing, we might just be inviting legends back into this world. Who knows what might emerge from that darkness?"
Lenz leaned closer, a spark of excitement igniting within him as he placed the bottle down with a thunk that reverberated through the quiet room. "But Rosetta wine, Professor? It grows in the hidden mists. Sure, it's dangerous, but—imagine the taste!" He grinned, his eyes glinting with eagerness. "The Smiths guard their secrets like a dragon hoarding gold. The ice dragon bottle is the key, don't you see? Did you know that a dash of snow flower preserves—"
"Enough, Lenz!" Elbert interrupted, cutting through the young man's glee with a wave of his hand, his frustration palpable. "You should pen a tome, I'm sure. But listen carefully," he said, leaning in, voice lowering conspiratorially, "it's the power, not the label. Those rare wines can awaken the magic that lies dormant in a wizard's bones. I've felt it—the stirrings—just before I nearly met my end."
Lenz straightened, a playful mischief dancing in his eyes that betrayed his youthful bravado. "You've defied death more times than I can count, Professor. They say only six like you have walked this earth! If this wine enhances your power," he paused dramatically, a smirk tugging at his lips, "maybe you should restrain yourself. Imagine the trouble it could bring."
Elbert's smirk darkened, his intensity sharpening like the edge of a blade. "Power… yes. It's always a gamble, isn't it? Have you ever felt magic coursing through you? Cold as ice and searing at the same time?" He leaned even closer, eyes locking onto Lenz's with an almost predatory intensity. "Dark magic, Lenz. What if I showed you?"
The fire flickered, casting long, quivering shadows that danced across the study's darkened walls. A chill settled heavily in the air, wrapping around Lenz like an unwelcome embrace. "What is happening, Elbert?" he demanded, his voice wavering under the weight of dread as shadows thickened and crept like living things around them.
"You'll see soon enough," Elbert replied, the edges of his words curling with an unsettling calmness. He leaned back slightly, his eyes glimmering like twin stars in a sky consumed by storm. "Can you feel it? The darkness crawling into your mind?"
Lenz's breath quickened, panic tinging his tone. "Is this... is this magic? What kind?" His heart raced, pounding against his ribs as if seeking escape.
"Magic?" Elbert mused, a twisted grin stretching across his face as he took a slow step closer. "It's a hunger, Lenz. Always hungry." His voice dropped to a near-silken whisper that wrapped around them both, laced with a threat that sent shivers even through the gathering shadows.
"Hungry for what?" Lenz stammered, feeling the shadows twist and coil tighter, constricting around him like vines seeking to consume.
"For power, for life," Elbert stated, smirking, the malice in his posture betraying his excitement. "Even the dead can crave." His eyes bored into Lenz, shimmering with all the sickly sweetness of excess.
"But to bring them back—to tamper with death?" Lenz's voice faltered, cracking under the weight of his fear, each word feeling like a stone thrown into a dark abyss.
"Ah, but isn't that the question?" Elbert chuckled, a low, sinister sound that danced through the air. "What price would you pay for love? What whispers of sacrifice haunt your heart?"
"Isn't there a reason it's forbidden?" Lenz retorted, desperation creeping into his tone, his nerve fraying like the edges of a torn tapestry.
Elbert leaned in closer, his breath warm and fetid. His eyes glinted with a madness that promised oblivion. "Why should we obey rules that bind us? They're for the weak, Lenz," he said, a hiss accompanying his last words as if slithering through sharp fangs.
"And what of the consequences?" Lenz asked, his pulse quickening, the shadows squeezing his chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe.
"Consequences? They're merely echoes in the darkness," Elbert whispered, his grin widening into something feral. "You'll discover that soon enough." He cast a glance to the flickering flames, his mood shifting like the shadowy dance of firelight. With a low growl that rumbled deep in his throat, he added, "Hope? It's more treacherous than any curse—trust me."
"Why would anyone..." Lenz hesitated, a shiver running down his spine as shadows seized the flickering candlelight, "dare to wake what should be resting?" His voice quavered, teeth clenched as he fought against the impending terror; he could almost feel the brush of a chill against his neck.
"Because there are those who believe they can control it," Elbert said, his gaze sharpened like a predator, narrowing into slits. "But control... control is merely an illusion." The words hung heavy in the air, filled with a gravity that pressed down on Lenz.
Lenz glanced around the room, his chest tightening as the once still paintings warped, the figures twisting grotesquely, shadows mocking him from the corners. "The noble lady... why does she seem so alive?" His heart pounded with each whispered syllable, as if the answer might rend the air between them.
"She's not alive, Lenz," Elbert replied, his tone grave, as if he were revealing an ancient truth. "Just a fragment of rage trapped in colors, a haunting reminder of what once was." Each word, a stone dropping into the abyss of Lenz's mind.
"And the children?" he whispered, terror curling in his gut, as if their ethereal hands reached out to grasp at him from beyond the canvas.
"Those are warnings—echoes of ambition turned monstrous," Elbert stated, his voice unwavering, slicing through the thickening dread. "Don't you see? They are the price of desire." His eyes blazed, igniting Lenz's fear anew.
Lenz recoiled, wiping the clammy sweat from his brow. "Make it stop—please!" he begged, the tremor in his voice a mix of desperation and defiance.
"Fear is good," Elbert said, his expression contemplative as he studied Lenz like a chess piece waiting to be moved. "But understanding? That's essential. Do you truly wish to survive?"
"Survive? At what cost?" Lenz's breath hitched, uncertainty swirling in the air, thick as the shadows that clung to the walls. Each heartbeat drummed louder in his ears.
"Everything costs, Lenz," Elbert replied, his gaze piercing through the frail veil of hope. "Black Mist—it corrupts and animates the unwilling. But beauty disguises the horror that lies beneath." The warning echoed ominously, each word deliberate.
"How can you..." Lenz's voice faltered, words hanging like droplets of rain in the still air, "How can you wield something so dark?" Hesitation gnawed at him, engulfing his thoughts in doubt.
"Easily," Elbert scoffed, a bitter smile tracing the edges of his lips, revealing a flash of something dangerous. "I bear scars etched deep." He traced a finger across his own arm, a gesture full of meaning, "Scars invisible to you. You must learn how to harness it, not just obey." His intensity bore down on Lenz like a storm cloud rumbling with the threat of rain.
Lenz's heart raced, the panic tightening its grip around his voice, barely escaping his lips above a whisper. "Learn what? To summon demons?" The weight of his query hung heavily, as if he dared to summon the abyss with his very words.
"To know the price of power," Elbert urged, his voice low and steady, a chilling warmth in the dim light. "Each spell has its shadows, its price—some steep, some devastating." He leaned closer, the scent of aged parchment and incense surrounding him, intensifying the gravity of his words.
"And if I refuse?" Lenz asked, fear knotting in his stomach, a cold sweat prickling down his back. His voice wavered, barely piercing the thick air between them.
"Then you remain prey to the darkness, Lenz. You can either face it or be consumed." Elbert's eyes flickered with unspoken truths, shadows swirling in their depths. His hand moved as if beckoning the very darkness he spoke of.
Lenz's voice was a fragile thread in the enveloping silence. "And yet you… you wield it so easily?" The question hung heavy, demanding an answer he feared to hear.
Elbert's gaze turned distant, a shadow passing over his face that spoke of past struggles. "Easily? You mistake my scars for ease, Lenz. There's a darkness within that you cannot see." He raised a hand to his chest, the faint outlines of ancient runes glimmering briefly in the candlelight.
Lenz swallowed hard, doubt creeping like a vine around his resolve. "Professor, I—I'm not ready for this." His voice cracked, conveying the weight of his uncertainty.
"Neither was Entrople," Elbert replied softly, his voice a fragile whisper, tinged with regret. "Nor was I. We are all unprepared. But time is merciless, Lenz. It advances without regard for grief." He placed his palm flat on the table, fingers trembling slightly as if grappling with the ghosts of his past decisions. "So you wish to know of the forbidden library?"
Lenz nodded hesitantly, his heart pounding, the very air thick with foreboding. "But the directory's sealed on the fiftieth floor. Five hold keys, and they never share. I could attempt it... for you," he said, the weight of his choice pressing heavily upon him.
"Always so eager, always so brave," Elbert said, a wistful smile tugging at his lips, yet his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. "But there's another path, a darker one."
He drew forth an obsidian stone, its surface a cold, dark gleam, pulsating softly with an ominous purple glow that sent chills down Lenz's spine. "This—it's a tool, Lenz. But it demands a price." His fingers brushed over the stone as if it were a living thing, and the air crackled with the weight of its power.
"What do you mean?" Lenz stammered, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Elbert's fingers tremble slightly while pressing the cold stone against his skin. "What is this?"
"Forgive me, Lenz," Elbert whispered, his voice heavy with remorse, eyes clouded with an ancient fear. "Every spell requires a sacrifice—an equivalent exchange. You sought knowledge, did you not? This is what it costs."
As the words sank in, Lenz felt a pressure building in his skull, his vision constricting until the surroundings blurred into indistinct shadows. "What's happening to me?" he gasped, a shiver running down his spine as panic squeezed his throat. "Make it stop… please, I can't take this!"
"Trust in the process," Elbert urged, though he flinched slightly at the edge of Lenz's desperation. "I know it's scary, but the darker truths will reveal themselves… but at what cost, indeed? You must understand; this is not just magic."
Elbert's gaze dropped to the obsidian stone, flickering in the dim light like a hungry shadow, unable to meet Lenz's terrified eyes. "The world is cruel, Lenz. The shadows you invoke will never forget a debt owed; they have a memory as long as time itself."
"But why me?" Lenz's breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles twitching under the strain. "Why must I bear this burden? I didn't ask for this!" Desperation and fury mingled in his voice, each word laced with the weight of his fear.
Elbert's gaze remained fixed on the floor, his brow furrowed as if the weight of the world pressed heavily upon him. "You're the last spark of hope," he muttered, his voice barely rising above a whisper, "or perhaps just my folly." He scratched absentmindedly at the frayed edge of his cloak, a nervous habit he had developed over the years.
As the pain twisted within him like a coiling serpent, Lenz gasped, "It's like being torn apart!" He held his chest, his fingers trembling. "Can't you just… end it?" His eyes, glistening with anguish, bore into Elbert's.
"End it?" Elbert's voice quavered, betraying his inner turmoil. "To end it would mean to erase what we've started. We can't turn back now." The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls, dancing like specters of their past mistakes.
Lenz coughed violently, black mist spilling forth like an unwanted truth. "I didn't choose this path!" His voice cracked, a mix of desperation and defiance. He clenched his fists, fighting against the overwhelming tide of despair.
"None of us do," Elbert murmured, the corners of his mouth twisting into a grimace. "But the dark knows who to claim." He looked around, his eyes darting to the corners of the room as if expecting something to emerge from the shadows.
The room felt alive in that moment, the paintings on the walls seeming to shift, their eyes igniting with a malevolent awareness. "They look like they're judging me," Lenz whispered, a tremor of fear creeping into his voice. He took a step back, the chill of dread wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud.
"They have seen what you can become," Elbert warned, his eyes narrowing. "Your fears feed the darkness. You must confront them." His tone was sharp, a palpable urgency infusing each word as he leaned forward, as if trying to pull Lenz from the brink.
"Confront what?" Lenz's breath hitched, caught in his throat. "The monster I feel growing inside?" His voice trembled as he spoke, hand subconsciously brushing against the scar on his arm, a reminder of battles fought.
"Or the wisdom that awaits," Elbert pressed, confusion lacing his tone, a faint twitch in his left eye revealing his unease. "What if the truth is worse?" He swallowed hard, the thought appearing to choke him.
"What truth?" Lenz's heart raced at the implications, a rush of blood roaring in his ears. "What am I becoming?" His body tensed, ready to bolt, yet something held him in place.
Elbert said nothing, lost in a grim contemplation, his mind evidently grappling with choices made long ago. "Rest, Lenz," he finally spoke, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. "Sometimes, the answers hide in the shadows." A deep breath escaped his lips, laden with regret.
"And the shadows… what do they want from me?" Lenz pressed, the tremor in his voice unmistakable, leaving him feeling raw and exposed.
"Everything," Elbert whispered, pulling his cloak tight around him as the fire flickered ominously, sending sparks flaring into the air. "Or perhaps just your soul." The words hung heavily between them, a chilling testament to the stakes at hand.
"Why do you linger, Lenz?" Elbert asked, glancing back at the huddled figure. His voice dipped in urgency, each word carefully measured. "You know the shadows whisper secrets best kept hidden." He shifted, anxiety etched into his features, eyes flitting to the door as if expecting a shadow to answer.
Lenz shifted, his gaze still locked on the painted eyes watching over him, the flickering flames casting shadows that seemed to dance with malevolence. "And what if those secrets hold the ultimate truth?" His voice barely rose above a whisper, filled with trepidation.
"Truth? Or a curse?" Elbert replied, his voice thick with tension, each word heavy with foreboding. He leaned against the crumbling wall, fingers tapping restlessly on the cold stone. "You've seen the cost, yet you tread further into darkness."
"Isn't that what we seek?" Lenz's tone sharpened, desperation threading through his words like needles. He took a step closer to Elbert, the weight of his uncertainty pressing heavily upon him. "Knowledge that transcends our limits?"
Elbert's eyes narrowed, a flash of concern creeping into his expression. "At what price?" He leaned in, urgency saturating the air between them, as if the murky shadows were listening. "These forces, they consume more than just lives."
With a shiver, Lenz felt a chill creep into the space, the oppressive atmosphere thickening. He could hear the faint echo of a curse whispering through the dim light, an ominous presence that settled like dust. "But if I don't confront it," he breathed, his heart racing, "will I ever be free?" His voice trembled slightly, the weight of his question hanging in the stillness.
"Freedom is an illusion born from ignorance," Elbert warned, his voice low and steady, yet filled with a deep-seated fear that resonated with Lenz. He straightened, trying to conceal the quiver in his tone. "What you chase will only bind you tighter to the shadows."
As if summoned by their words, a creeping mist snaked around their feet, thick and cold, coiling like a serpent. It whispered secrets of the past and foretellings of the future, an unsettling omen of the truths yet to unfold. Lenz glanced at Elbert, seeking reassurance in his companion's gaze, but found only the glint of fear reflecting back at him.