*Date: 33,480 Second Quarter - Chalice Theocracy*
The days blurred together after Lyra left.
At first Aris thought she would return in a few days, maybe a week at most. Instead, almost a month passed. No letters, no explanation. Just the memory of her last words: "I have a strange request and will be away for a while."
That left Aris alone in the Academy halls, Fox at his side, grinding through classes, bruises, and the endless trials of spellwork.
He had buried himself in the library. His fingers had flipped through tomes on faith-magic until the paper left tiny cuts on his skin. His notes filled entire margins with sketches of sigils and diagrams of energy flows. His obsession narrowed into one impossible task: to merge Healing Touch and Cure Disease.
It should have worked. Both drew from the same holy current - one mending flesh, the other purging corruption. Aris could feel their similarities in his veins when he channeled them. But when he tried to weave them together, the effects collapsed into sparks and pain.
He sat cross-legged on the dormitory floor, the Witness Stone before him. Its gray surface pulsed faintly when he fed it energy, like a sleeping heart reluctant to wake.
"Alright," he muttered, sweat beading his brow. "Heal and cleanse, one flow, one purpose..."
A warmth spread from his hand into the air, pale light shimmering. For a moment it looked like success - then a sickly hiss tore through the glow. His arm cramped, the magic backfired, leaving him gasping.
Fox, lounging on the bed, yawned. "That's the tenth time today. Want me to start digging your grave, or you still hoping to walk into the dungeon trial instead of being carried?"
Aris scowled. "If I can't even merge two basic spells, how the hell am I supposed to open a slot for something like Magic Shield? Every lesson this month has been about protecting yourself from swords, fire, ice. If I can't learn a shield, I'll be crushed."
Fox stretched, tail flicking. "Maybe you should stop trying to invent miracles and just study like the rest of your kind."
But Aris couldn't let it go. Each failure only made him hungrier. Night after night he stayed awake, hands trembling, Witness Stone glowing faintly on the desk, his voice hoarse from muttered incantations.
"If I can crack this, I'll be ready. If not, the dungeon will kill me. Simple as that. And if not dungeon than this world."
On the twenty-seventh night, the door finally creaked open. Lyra stepped in, hood drawn, eyes sharp.
Aris nearly leapt up, a mix of relief and frustration bubbling. "Where have you been?"
"Don't ask." She moved past him, throwing her satchel on the floor. "And don't follow me. Stay away. I might be watched."
Fox tilted his head. "Watched? By who?"
Lyra shot him a glare sharp enough to silence him. She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her temples. "Listen, Aris. Focus on yourself. Pretend you never saw me. If someone asks, you don't know me that much. Understood?"
Aris clenched his fists, but nodded.
"Good." She leaned back, closing her eyes.
For a long moment, the library was quiet except for Fox's soft growl.
Finally, Aris broke it. "I've been experimenting. With the Witness Stone."
That got her attention. Her eyes opened, gleaming in the dim candlelight. "Go on."
He hesitated. "I think... I think I figured something out. If I charge it with my excess experience, it doesn't just glow brighter. It... shifts. Like it's tallying levels. If I push far enough, I might be able to bind that stored power back to myself. I found some drawings hinting of charging the stone. I'll try that."
Fox bolted upright. "Don't you dare. If the game ever opens again, you'll lose all your progress. Everything. Gone."
Lyra snorted. "If the game opens, he'll leave, idiot."
Fox growled at Lyra.
Aris swallowed. "It's risky, I know. But the second dungeon trial is coming. Even if I push myself to level twenty, I still need a shield spell. Every class this month has been about resisting physical and elemental attacks. I'm falling behind."
"Then catch up the normal way," Fox snapped. "Bleed in sparring. Study your chants. Don't gamble with the Witness Stone."
But the thought wouldn't leave Aris's head. Every night it whispered to him. "Power's right here. Just take it. Almost four years of experience to spend in a day. But what other choice he had."
That night, he left Lyra behind and walked the winding halls of the Academy. Torches burned low, shadows stretching long across the marble. The air tasted faintly of incense and ash.
The human student sect met in a disused lecture hall. The door creaked open, revealing two dozen boys and girls gathered in a circle, their voices hushed but taut with energy. Candles flickered in the corners, throwing their faces into half-light.
John Salsor stood at the center, arms crossed. He looked older than his years - broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, the kind of presence that pulled attention without asking.
"Aris," he said, nodding as the younger student entered. "Good. You came."
Aris slid into the circle, Fox trailing behind. He felt the weight of their stares - suspicion, expectation, rivalry. "This gathering's supposed to be unifying under stupid races," Aris thought.
John's gaze swept the room. "The second dungeon trial is near. Fae are faster learners. Halflings cunning faster, quicker. Beastkin rely on instincts. But us? We only survive if we grind harder, bleed longer, and close the gap."
Murmurs of agreement rippled.
John turned his eyes on Aris. "You're falling behind."
Aris's jaw tightened. "I've been trying -"
"Trying isn't enough," John cut him off. "You need a shield manifested. Not theory. Not library scribbles. A working shield, before the trial. Or you'll get yourself killed. Where is that powerful kid who took down 5 Fae students? You can do it."
Heat rose in Aris's chest. "I know that."
John stepped closer, voice lowering but sharper. "Then prove it. We're not here to babysit. If you want to stand with us as humans, you pull your weight. No excuses."
Aris met his eyes, pulse pounding. "This is stupid. This sect, this posturing. But... if I play along, maybe I'll learn more. Maybe I can use this."
John raised his voice again, addressing everyone. "We are not fae, halflings, or zealot spawn. We are humans. We will not be laughed at in the dungeon. We will not crawl behind others. We will fight, survive, and rise."
The circle echoed him, voices harsh: "Rise!"
Some pounded fists against their chests, others raised makeshift symbols of faith. The air thickened with fervor, desperate and proud.
Aris forced himself to join in, lips forming the word. "Rise."
But inside, doubt lingered. "Even if I shout with them, even if I push harder - without a shield, I'm still a target. And without figuring out the Witness Stone... I might never catch up."
Fox's voice echoed in his head as he watched John rally the students. "Don't do it. Don't risk the Stone."
Lyra's voice overlapped. "If the game opens, he'll leave."
Aris's hand brushed against the Witness Stone hidden beneath his cloak. It pulsed faintly, as if answering his thoughts.
The meeting ended with chants and whispered oaths. The students scattered, each clutching their notes, their fears hidden behind bravado.
John asked him to talk with Aris alone.
"Aris, I am gonna be honest since we have odd number of first years. One must go alone to second dungeon or take one from other classmate. And..."
Aris cut him off. "And I am so lacked behind no one wants to take me, is that it?"
"Not that but they paired with each other already."
"No problem John, I can find someone." Good, he thought. I didn't want to be in debt to anyone here anyway.
Outside, the night air was cold, heavy with mist drifting off the canals. Aris walked back alone, Fox padding silently beside him.
On the way to class, "I hope Orric takes me," he said to himself.
"Even if I make level twenty, it won't matter without the shield," Aris thought. "And maybe the Witness Stone is my only way forward."
The glow of the city reflected in the water, fractured and uncertain - just like the path ahead.