The shore is empty. The lake stretches silently under the moonlight, silvered waves lapping at the rocks.
Time flows normally again around the water—but Yun isn't here.
Panic flickers in my chest. He wouldn't just leave. Did he head back to Clairmarche? Does he think I drowned?
Judging by the sky, half a day—maybe more—has passed. Before I can move, a voice cuts through the silence.
"You... You came from there?"
I look behind me. A young man, around his early 20s at most, stands by the tree line. A cigar smolders between his fingers and tattoos covering his arms and broad shoulders. His eyes, sharp as glass, search me as though I'm something out of legend.
"You're alive?!" Heinrich booms, half-laughing, half-incredulous. "By the gods man, I'd have never imagined I'd see the day someone walked out of that dungeon."
He peppers me with questions—how I survived, what I saw, what lies beyond. My mind spins. Can I trust him? If I mention the barrier… or the cave… won't it sound impossible?
A phrase I shouldn't remember surfaces from nowhere: To lie is to make enemies. To tell the truth is to question one's allegiance.
My throat burns, my body is still aching, but I force the words out. I tell him everything. About the barrier. The stillness. The cavern and the tome. The flood of knowledge and the ashes.
The man's grin falters. For a heartbeat, the easy bravado is gone, leaving something harder, heavier. Then he exhales, steadies himself, and claps a hand on my shoulder.
"A god's remnant… and you survived the binding process. You survived corruption."
A shriek tears through the night—something distant, inhuman.
Heinrich's body tenses. Flame flickers faintly around him, like a living warning.
"Listen well, boy. Come to Clairmarche's guild. Tomorrow morning. There are questions that must be answered, and this is not the place. Now go. I've got some business to attend to."
Before I can respond, he turns and disappears into the forest, the light from his cigar bobbing with each step.
The way he just moved and that aura—those flames. He's no ordinary man. A masterful mage—a veteran adventurer? But that young?
I set off along the path, the cold biting through my soaked clothes, the memory of the cavern and the tome still burning behind my eyes. By the time I reach Clairmarche, the streets are deserted. The moon hangs high, bright and indifferent.
A shout draws me toward a small tavern near the docks. The noise is chaotic: laughter, curses, a chair scraping the floor. I push open the door.
Inside, smoke and ale hang thick in the air. Yun stands in the middle of it, towering over a table of drunk men playing cards. Their drinks are spilled, coins scattered, and a growing argument spirals out of control.
"You're not paying me!" one man shouts, swiping at the table.
"Gentlemen," the barman pleads, hands raised. "Please, calm down—"
A knife flashes. It strikes the barman's shoulder. Time slows in a heartbeat, and I feel it before anyone else. Yun moves, arm out, catching the blade with violent rage in his eyes. Blood spatters across his sleeve.
The man prepares to strike again, but his confidence falters. His eyes widen in terror as something unseen radiates from Yun. The spilled blood recoils, drawn toward his arm. The wound closes as quickly as it opened.
With a roar, Yun lunges. The men go down around him, unconscious before they even hit the floor. He gathers their money, tosses some to the barman, takes a sip from a bottle of rum and starts to leave—until he sees me standing in the doorway.
"Will!" he shouts, tears streaming down his face. In two strides, he crosses the room and pulls me into an embrace. "You… you're alive?!"
We leave the tavern together, the night air brushing against my skin. Yun leads the way to a modest inn, where he pays for a room with the thugs' money. Inside, candlelight casts long shadows, painting his face with exhaustion and relief.
He collapses onto the bed, half-drunk, muttering. "You… you have to tell me… everything…"
I try to begin, but before I can explain, he's already asleep, snoring.
I sit awake, staring at the flickering candlelight, feeling the remnants of the god's power humming faintly in my veins. The night stretches on, and the moon drifts across the sky, indifferent to the chaos of our lives.
***
Morning light filters through the curtains. Yun stirs, eyes opening slowly, bleary but sharp when they land on me. "Will… tell me what happened!" His voice is urgent, raw, as though yesterday's relief has already evaporated.
I take a deep breath. "It's… complicated. The cave, the tome… I survived, Yun. I have… something now."
His brow furrows. "Something? Like what?"
I tell him briefly, leaving out the most dangerous details. His eyes widen as I describe the artifact, the absolute stillness, the flood of knowledge that tore into my mind. He shakes his head slowly, lips pressed tight.
"You… you found it. The god's remnant…" His words trail into silence. He stares at his hands, then back at me.
"Show me."
I don't exactly know what I'm doing. The knowledge is fractured, fragments of memory unraveling piece by piece. Still, I recall the stillness by the lake.
I grab a kitchen knife from the table. As I focus, the image sharpens in my mind—until the blade grows brittle, frost spreading through its core. Until it crumbles like sand.
Yun exhales sharply. "That magic… it's not anything I've seen before. It may look like ordinary ice magic, but this—this isn't ice. This is something else entirely.."
I frown, recalling the events at the tavern.
"What about you!? Since when have you been able to use magic yourself?!"
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "I told you I'm from a noble family. What did you expect?"
"The noble families?" I ask, trying to piece things together. "How do they fit into this?"
He stares at me like I've asked whether the sky is blue.
"You said you weren't from here and that you lost your memories. Fine. But I didn't think you'd lost common sense too." He sighs, rubbing his temple. "Listen closely—I'll only explain this once."
I glare, but I let him speak.
"The first mages were survivors, like you," Yun says, voice low, heavy with the weight of history. "Explorers who entered the dungeons and survived corruption by pure luck. But when they came back, something had changed. They could sense mana, bend it, perceive the world differently. They carried artifacts and with their newly found power, they united the continent against the horrors they had seen."
"So they're not just pampered aristocrats?"
"Rich? Yes. But more than wealth… they wield power no one else can touch." He pauses. "Every generation inherits a fragment of that bond. Each noble line is tied to the artifact their ancestor bound with."
"Tied? How?"
"Once you gain an affinity for a type of magic, that's it. Your soul can't handle another. If you push it further, you'll fall to corruption."
Corruption… Uriel mentioned hellwalkers and monarchs. She said they were beings born from the god's madness, spreading and infecting other souls. "Could that have happened to me as well?!"
"Maybe. You got lucky. Commoners rarely survive the binding, even with help. The process is… dangerous, so most try to avoid it."
"So magic comes from artifacts?" I ask. "And those survivors became the first nobles?"
"Exactly. But your case…" Yun leans back, eyes narrowing. "It's unheard of. The book—your artifact—it's ashes. That's a first."
The sunlight touches my face. Outside, Clairmarche stirs. The world feels both larger and smaller than it did the night before. And heavier.
I nod, silently. Whatever path lies ahead, it's mine to walk. But at least—I'm not alone.
***
We head out in search of food. After strolling around for a few minutes we stumble across the Guild's building.
"Should we try the explorer guild?" I ask.
"Will—you're not thinking of taking a job already, are you?! You've barely begun to grasp that power. It's suicide—"
"How else am I supposed to learn? How did you learn?"
Yun's face hardens, as if memories that he wishes he could forget started crawling at him. Before I can ask, a voice calls out and his expression changes, brightening like he's covering something up.
Heinrich's there, waiting, beer in hand. He smirks when he sees Will—then his eyes snap to Yun. The smirk dies.
"You've got to be shitting me. Will… what the hell are you doing with Yun Lockhart?"
Yun narrows his eyes but says nothing.
The tension thickens until Heinrich throws back his drink, slams the mug on the table, and lets out a bark of laughter.
"Fine! To hell with it. You two are walking trouble anyway. Better to have you together at this point."
"Do you know him, Will?" Yun asks, confused.
I get interrupted yet again.
"This young man is gonna be trained by me and you're gonna join us."
We both stare at Heinrich confused.
"We don't even know you, old man," Yun mutters.
"Old—? I'm barely older than you, brat." Heinrich smirks. "Don't call me that."
From a nearby table, a man looks up from his book."That's Heinrich Ashbourne," he says calmly. "If you want to be an explorer, you'd be stupid to refuse."
I look over and our eyes meet. The same man I questioned for directions when arriving at Clairmarche now sits across the room.
"YOU! What the hell are you doing here?"
"A lot has happened…" I reply, half-embarrassed.
"Wait, you didn't go to the Timeless Lake, did you?" he demands, turning to Heinrich. "Ashbourne, is this kid involved with the Mystery Dungeon suddenly losing its power?"
Heinrich nods once. The man pales.
"Gods help us," he mutters. "Be more careful next time, boy. You won't always walk away."
"So what now? He asks. "I hope you don't expect things to go so smoothly next time, you should be more careful for god's sake."
I breathe in, steady. Contemplating Heinrich's offer.
"I have no home to return to," I say. "No past to cling to. I woke up outside this city with nothing but fragments of memory — and the lake. Something drew me there. I didn't know what would happen. But now… I want to learn to control this power. I want to see more of this world."
It's the truth — all of it. If that nightmare in Akasha had anything to do with my past life, I never want to see it again. If power grants freedom… then magic is the only path forward.
My chest tightens. The memories claw at the edges of my mind — until Yun's hand lands on my shoulder, steadying me.
"I'm in," he says before I can speak. "If this is the path you want, I'll follow. Life's looking a lot more fun with you around." He grins like he's embarrassed— Is he blushing?
Heinrich's face turns hungry—like a fighter spotting a new challenge. "Perfect," he says. "We'll break you both and build you into something useful."