Two days had passed since the dream… or the nightmare… or the truth he still didn't have a name for.
Nyx sat on a chair near the window, morning light slipping into the room and brushing against his white hair—still strange on him, still unfamiliar. He stared at the horizon without really seeing it, his foot tapping anxiously without his noticing.
"Two days…" he muttered quietly.
"And nothing."
The entity hadn't appeared again.
No throne.
No darkness.
No answers.
"I guess… I won't be getting the explanation I want anytime soon."
A faint, humorless laugh escaped him.
He tried again to reach for something—anything—from the past of this new body.
But the memories of "Nyx"… remained a blank page.
He stopped trying.
His gaze drifted toward the small desk in the corner of the room.
On it lay an elegant envelope—white, sealed with a golden emblem shaped like a crossing blade and feather.
He reached out and picked it up.
The invitation to Arkalion Academy.
He opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.
The paper was thick, and the ink carried a faint magical scent.
He read softly:
"Nyx Vairen,
It is our honor to welcome you to Arkalion Academy one week from today to undertake the official entrance examination.
The Academy opens its doors only to those capable of growth… and you are one of them.
We expect your arrival in the capital, Mirasel, before the appointed time."
Signed in elegant handwriting:
Servana Astria — Grand Headmistress of the Academy.
Nyx raised an eyebrow.
"Grand Headmistress…? I never gave her that title."
She had been a side character in his outline—strict, respected, beloved.
But the title "Grand" wasn't part of it.
He shook his head.
"Of course… the world isn't as I wrote it."
He folded the letter slowly, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
---
✦ "Erynfale…"
The name of the world he now stood on.
His mind began sorting through everything he remembered from his drafts.
Luckily, the maps he designed hadn't changed much.
He opened one eye, as if reviewing an old lesson:
"The world has five main continents… and one forbidden land."
He lifted a finger, counting.
"First… Valsyren."
The continent he was currently in—vast, human-dominated, center of trade and knowledge, with the strongest armies and most prosperous cities.
Its capital—
Mirasel,
the city of white towers and flowing mana.
A small smile curled his lips.
"At least that stayed the same."
"Second… Xynthar."
Land of wide plains and warrior tribes.
"Third… Oreval."
Land of metallic mountains and the greatest blacksmiths.
"Fourth… Ore—"
He paused.
"A second one? No… that's the elven continent."
He corrected himself:
"Fourth… Elyren — homeland of the elves."
Harmony of nature and spirit, shimmering forests, green mana.
"Fifth… Solarym."
The continent of endless sunlight, golden fields, and holy kingdoms.
Then both eyes opened.
"And last… the forbidden continent."
A natural frown tightened his lips.
The Continent of Shadows.
Home of demons…
and the most dangerous beings of the world—
Mana Beasts.
His fingers trembled.
He was the one who created those creatures.
He designed them with black fangs, crimson eyes, cores corrupted by mana.
But imagining facing them in reality?
It twisted his stomach.
"Great… fantastic…" he muttered sarcastically.
"My new life begins with reminding myself that this world can kill me in a thousand ways."
He rose to his feet, hands in his pockets, wandering around the small room.
His mind felt clearer now.
He was in Erynfale.
This body had no memories because it was made for him.
A mysterious being brought him here for an unknown purpose.
He had one week before the entrance exam.
And he was living in Valsyren—the safest of the five continents.
As he walked, he passed the mirror.
He couldn't ignore it.
He stopped.
His reflection still startled him, even after two days.
"Nyx Vairen…"
He said the name as if tasting it.
It still didn't feel like his, but at least it wasn't fully foreign anymore.
His eyes drifted back to the letter.
"The entrance exam…"
In his original story, Arkalion's exam was harsh, but not lethal.
But since the world had changed…
the exam might have changed too.
"Oh my god… and I'm the one who wrote this mess."
He dragged a hand down his face.
"I need to understand my situation first."
He thought for a moment, then said:
"Status Window."
It appeared instantly—bright, obedient—its eagerness unsettling him.
He scanned it again… the stats, the core, the arts, the traits.
"Transcendent Blade Style… sealed."
He frowned.
That technique was the strongest art in his entire story, the result of thousands of written lines.
It was supposed to belong to a major character… not a nonexistent one.
"Damn it… what does that thing want from me?"
No answer.
He didn't expect one.
He sat down again, this time calmer.
"Arkalion…" he whispered.
"It's the only place I can start."
The greatest academy in the world—center of ancient magic, home of prodigies, nobles, sins, and secrets.
Where every great story begins…
and ends.
And also—
where he would take the first step toward the truth the entity hid from him.
He lifted the letter before his face.
"One week, huh…?"
A small, tense, but genuine smile crossed his lips.
"Well then… let's see how far a story I never wrote can go."
He folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket.
Outside the window,
the distant lights of Mirasel shimmered on the horizon—
as if welcoming him.
Or warning him.