Book 1: The Sorcerer's Test...
"They had been hunting him since the night his father's crown fell, and now the prince had nowhere left to run but the mountains."
CHAPTER ONE: RIONA'S TIME WHISPERS
Out of nowhere, the sky broke open. Thunder cracked like a warning, and lightning's reflections danced across the faces of every mountain. The mud grew thicker as branches tumbled into one another. In an instant, rain poured down in wild, angry sheets. It slammed against the mountains and every roof, drummed upon the ground, and soaked everything in its path.
People ran, their heartbeats pounding as they shouted each other's names. From afar, the muddy ground was littered with fallen bodies. Standing up wasn't just an action—it was survival.
Buildings collapsed around him. Drenched to the bone, every cell in his body tingled with the chaos. A blurry image—a towering figure—walked slowly toward him and declared, "It's time." His heartbeat quickened, pounding as if it wanted to escape. He saw the axe above his head; his eyes widened in terror as it swung down swiftly.
Everything went black.
Riona shot up from the bed, drenched in sweat, eyes wide, chest heaving as though he'd run a marathon. From the tips of his hair to his trembling toes, his body shook. Slowly, he opened his palms, watching them unfold as he muttered, "It was just a dream… or was it?" The tension in his voice was palpable as he tried to gather his thoughts.
"You're awake."
A voice came from behind—so peaceful it felt like the voice of an angel.
Riona tensed. He quickly turned to see who it was, but the room was dark—faintly lit only by the moon's ray reflecting through the window. A figure stood there, glowing faintly in the darkness. His voice was as soft as shallow water, his form cloaked in a black coat with a long cape.
"And who are you? Do I… Do I know you?" Riona's voice trembled. Cold crept over him, and his legs refused to stand straight. He stared at the figure, waiting for it to move.
"You seem to forget," the voice came again—light and lethargic. The man finally moved, turning slowly and walking toward Riona.
The clock ticked louder in the silence, each passing second stretching into eternity. Riona's breath grew shallow, each step the stranger took echoing like doubled footsteps. The closer he tried to see the man's face, the more it blurred.
"Please, who are you? What am I doing here with you?… You're quiet—can you say something?" Riona whispered.
The silence deepened. The stranger's gaze locked onto Riona's, and then he repeated the same words:
"You seem to forget… I'll help you remember."
Before Riona could react, the man raised two fingers toward his forehead.
Riona tried to make sense of it. "What's he doing?… Who knows?… He doesn't look familiar. I can't remember seeing him anywhere before. He's trying to make me remember what exactly? And now he's raising his two fingers… Oh! Perhaps he wants to demonstrate something for m—"
He froze. The stranger's fingers brushed the hairs on his forehead. In an instant, reality cracked apart. His eyes widened, his head throbbed violently, and his eardrums rang like war drums. He gasped for air, but it felt like the air was ripped away.
The clock stopped.
The world around him dissolved into shadow.
He felt himself being dragged—not falling, but slipping—like his very soul was sliding away from existence. Darkness swallowed him, stretching into a void with no walls and no end.
Everything went black.
"Riona! Riona!! Riona!!!"
The voice tore through the void. His body twitched, the sound pulling him back. Drained and confused, the air felt cool against his skin. He opened his eyes. Huts lined a dirt path ahead, their rooftops swaying gently in the breeze.
"Riona!" The voice again, now tense.
His eyes blinked open slowly, heavy with confusion. The sound came from across the village.
"Mum?" he whispered.
There she was, standing near a hut, calling to him. Curious, he stepped toward her—but suddenly, he was no longer near her. He was across from her, across the hut.
From the shadows, a figure sprinted toward his mum. Riona squinted—and froze.
Running toward her was himself.
Same face. Same clothes. Same moment.
That's when it hit him—this wasn't a dream. It was a memory. A window to the past. The dark stranger was showing him how it all began. Riona wasn't just witnessing history; he was trapped inside it.
The bells of the village rang out like a warning. Three hideous men emerged from the left, weapons in hand: a blade, an axe, and heavy sticks. They marched toward Jane—his mother—and the other version of himself standing beside her.
"GET HIM!!!"
The men attacked. Jane fought back, tears streaming, her body thrown to the ground but always rising again. The other Riona struggled in the grip of muscled arms. A loud slap knocked Jane unconscious, and she fell slowly to the dirt.
From across the scene, Riona's rage built like a storm. The wind thickened, the clouds opened, and rain poured in cold sheets. Chaos consumed the village.
And then he saw him—the man from the darkroom—walking toward his duplicate and the executioner. He took the duplicate by the hand, and together they walked away, untouched by the frozen world.
Riona tried to follow, but every step felt like a hundred miles. Flashbacks surged in his mind. His skull ached. His vision blurred.
Boom.
Pain exploded in his head. The world collapsed into blackness.
"Open your eyes."
That calm, guiding voice again. Slowly, Riona obeyed. He was back in the darkroom. The figure in the coat smiled.
"Do you now remember?"
Riona stared at him.
"You're… a sorcerer."