The dinner in the tower's dining hall was something none of the orphans from Oakhaven had ever seen in their lives.
A long dark-wood table, filled with steaming dishes of every kind of food imaginable.
The new apprentices did not know where to begin and ate greedily, laughing and speaking loudly for the first time in a long while.
Thiriel, on the other hand, chewed slowly, observing everything around him, analyzing what was happening in this place that stirred a sinister premonition within him.
He focused his attention on the four senior apprentices, trying to detect anything unusual, just as he had done with the servants.
The four older apprentices—three men and one woman—though their faces were slightly pale, ate with normal, natural movements, speaking with apparent ease to everyone at the table.
Thiriel studied them throughout the entire meal: their auras, their appearance, their movements, their gestures. So far, they seemed perfectly normal, aside from their lighter complexion.
When the plates were nearly empty, Thiriel leaned slightly toward the nearest senior apprentice, a brown-haired young man named Eiran, who seemed to be the most talkative of the four.
"Eiran," he asked in a low voice, feigning simple curiosity, "where are the other apprentices the Master brought in previous years? The tower is large, but I only see the four of you."
Eiran lifted his gaze from the plate, chewed slowly, and then smiled with an expression that did not reach his eyes. Suddenly, Thiriel noticed a change, as if his personality shifted in an instant—only his eyes betrayed a sudden sadness.
"All those who were more talented than us went out to venture into the world," he replied naturally, as if reciting a lesson learned by heart.
"When the Master believes they are ready and can defend themselves on the continent, he encourages them to explore the world. The continent is vast. Some go to the great academies in the capital, others join powerful sects, and others simply travel in search of treasures and opportunities. It's only natural."
Thiriel nodded, paying close attention to every reaction Eiran displayed, and asked in a casual tone.
"And do any of them ever come back? I imagine they would want to thank the Master for everything he taught them."
Eiran's smile froze for a fraction of a second. Then he shook his head.
"No. None have returned. The world is very wide. It's normal for years—decades, even—to pass while they explore. Some never come back. That is the life of a mage."
The other three senior apprentices nodded in silence, adding nothing.
A chill ran down the back of Thiriel's neck. It wasn't just the answer. It was the look in their eyes, the suffering that seeped through in a subtle but unmistakable way. As if they couldn't control what they were saying. As if all of them had memorized the same lie.
Inside his mind, the pieces began to fall into place with terrifying clarity. Six new apprentices this year. Four older ones.
How many had disappeared over the years?
How many had been "released" never to return?
And most of all… where were the bodies?
Because one thing was certain: what the apprentices were saying was not the truth, but a forced answer spilling from their mouths.
Thiriel thanked them and continued eating as if nothing were amiss.
When dinner ended, each of them headed to their rooms. Thiriel and Caethiriel had adjoining chambers on the third floor.
Caethiriel entered first, marveling at the cleanliness and the space, delighted to have a room all to herself.
"Brother, I've never slept in such a big bed," she whispered, touching the sheets with reverence.
Thiriel smiled for the first time that day—a genuine smile, though a small one.
"Sleep well, Cae. Tomorrow, the hard part begins."
They stayed for a while talking in her room. Caethiriel told him how much she had liked the lake, how the flowers in the garden seemed to glow a little when no one was looking.
Thiriel listened, but his mind was elsewhere—on the missing apprentices, on the strange aura emanating from Vexar, on the unnatural state of the servants and the senior apprentices.
When the girl began to yawn, he tucked her in carefully.
"Sleep, Cae," he said softly. "I'll be right next door if you need me."
Caethiriel nodded, closing her eyes with a peaceful smile that Thiriel had not seen in a long time.
Back in his own room, Thiriel closed the door carefully and got to work.
The dinner had been plentiful; now he had to turn that food into strength.
He sat on the floor with his legs crossed and entered his martial recovery technique—deep breathing, control of blood flow, conscious guidance of nutrients toward the muscles, bones, and the most damaged organs.
Each cycle slightly increased the speed of tissue repair, accelerated blood production, and strengthened his muscles little by little.
An hour later, sweaty but more stable, he stood up. His body was still fragile, but it was no longer as deteriorated as it had been when he reincarnated into this world.
He lay down on the bed, extinguished the oil lamp, and sank into darkness.
He did not fall asleep immediately.
He listened.
He listened to the silent footsteps of the servants moving through the corridors.
He listened to the faint creaking of the tower's ancient wood.
After a while, detecting nothing unusual, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Tomorrow, the real trial would begin.
Tomorrow, his life in that tower would truly begin. Sooner or later, the truth would be revealed—whether Vexar was merely a strange mage or something far worse.
And if it was the latter, Thiriel had to be ready to escape with his sister at any moment.
…
At dawn, after waking early and completing his morning exercise as the sun barely rose, Vexar summoned them and gathered all the apprentices, new and old alike, in front of the lake.
The old man stood atop a small stone platform, staff in hand, his crimson robe billowing softly.
"Today, we officially begin your training in magic," he announced in a deep voice.
"Today, you will learn what magic truly is and take your first step on the path of a mage."
As he observed their faces, Vexar smiled in a way that made him seem terrifying.
Thiriel felt the man's gaze settle on him and once again sensed that latent greed. In that moment, he understood that, for some reason, there was something within him that Vexar desired intensely.