The morning sky stretched ever higher, but the sun was veiled behind thin clouds, casting a dim light over the city—as if welcoming Clara and Liorin with an air of quiet mystery. Before them stood an ancient tower, towering over the city center, somewhat detached from the other buildings. Its walls were built from dark stones veined with silver, and its tall arched windows looked like silent eyes watching.
"This tower… is strange," Clara murmured, her gaze tracing the structure from bottom to top, as though it had no end. "There's no guard."
Liorin scanned the surroundings as well. Not a soul wandered nearby. Even the path leading to the tower seemed forgotten. A layer of dust coated the stone steps, and moss crept softly along the side walls.
Only a single large door stood ahead of them, engraved with the symbol of a sun and a star entwined in a magical circle. Without a word, Clara placed her hand on the door's surface—and instantly, their world shifted.
A strange wind pulled them inward before they could even gasp. Light and shadow spiraled in a vortex, and in the blink of an eye, Clara landed on a cold, gleaming marble floor.
But Liorin was no longer beside her.
Clara rose slowly, eyes alert. She was now in a vast, beautiful chamber—the top floor of the tower. The sky spread wide beyond the tall windows, and the walls were lined with curved bookshelves stretching to a glass-domed ceiling. Golden light streamed down from floating crystal orbs, hovering like tiny stars.
And at the center of the room… stood a woman.
Her long hair flowed in shades of deep violet streaked with black, shimmering like the night sky. Her left eye glowed golden, but what caught Clara's attention was the five-pointed star embedded in her iris—as though the heavens themselves lived within her gaze. Her right eye, by contrast, was calm—clear, yet piercing.
The woman welcomed her with a gentle smile, her steps like a breeze rippling across water.
"Welcome," the woman said, her voice clear and dreamlike.
Clara froze. "Err… Are you the Grand Sorceress Nyra?"
The woman didn't answer immediately. She lifted her hand slightly, and the surrounding light shifted—warmer now, more soothing. The folds of her dark-violet robe rippled softly with her movement.
"As you expected," she replied, her gaze penetrating deep into Clara's eyes. "What is it that you seek from me?"
Clara stood firm before Nyra, awe and a hint of fear blending in her chest. The Grand Sorceress continued to look at her, eyes glittering like undying stars.
"I came to seek knowledge about… the Gate," Clara said at last, her voice quiet but steady. "The one said to connect a thousand worlds."
Nyra's faint smile faded for a moment. Her gaze shifted, and she let out a quiet breath.
"The Gate…" she repeated softly, as though the word stirred something within her. She turned away and walked to a tall bookshelf by the wall. Her fingers touched the wood's surface, though she didn't pull anything down.
"I… don't know much about it," she finally admitted, her tone honest and composed. "What you've read in my books and journals—those are fragments of theory. I gathered speculation from across ages and lands—folklore, ancient runes, prophecies that were never proven. I analyzed them, adjusted a little, and wrote… but it's not the truth."
Clara nodded slowly. "But… you're the only lead we have."
Nyra turned back to her, her golden eye softer now. "I understand. And if that's the case, then there's only one piece of information that might help you…"
She raised her hand, and shards of light materialized in the air—a map slowly turning, showing a vast snow-covered region.
"Long ago, before all records vanished, there was said to be an ancient artifact. It was used to seal the Gate when it first began to open. That artifact… is believed to still exist. And it lies in the Northern Region."
Clara stared at the map for a long moment, her mind quickly processing the information.
"But…" Nyra added, her tone shifting slightly, firm yet calm. "The Northern Region is no ordinary place. It's shrouded in ice storms, frozen ravines, and creatures that do not abide by the laws of the known world. One of the most feared threats… is the Curse Beast—an Ice Wyrm. A colossal serpent that hunts anything that moves. It's not only powerful, but possesses magic strong enough to pierce through protection spells."
Clara clenched the edge of her cloak, but her eyes did not falter.
"I'll go there anyway."
Nyra stepped closer, studying her intently. "You… you're the only one who can access the Gate, aren't you?"
Clara nodded.
The Grand Sorceress paused for a moment, then gently placed a hand on Clara's shoulder—as if passing on some strength through the touch.
"In that case, I won't stop you."
Clara smiled faintly.
The glowing map in the air slowly faded. And in Clara's heart, her resolve burned brighter than ever.
"Would you like to have some tea with me for a while?" Nyra asked suddenly, as their conversation began to settle.
Clara hesitated. "I… wouldn't want to trouble you—"
"Please don't think of it as a burden," Nyra interrupted gently with a small smile. "It's been a long time since I've had someone to talk to."
Clara finally nodded. Though initially shy, she realized this was a rare meeting with someone deeply respected. "Alright then… I'll join you."
Nyra smiled, lifting her finger into the air. In an instant, the chamber around them transformed. Golden lights formed arching sigils, and Clara felt as though she were stepping into a different realm.
They were now in a luxurious dining room—its walls adorned with colored crystal glass, its ceiling a moving mural of the night sky, and in the center stood a long wooden table, elegantly set with fresh flowers and fine porcelain tea sets.
"We're now on another level," Nyra said as she poured tea into Clara's cup. "You're the second person to ever come here."
Clara only nodded, quietly marveling at the serene, beautiful space.
After both had taken their cups, Nyra looked at Clara with a touch of curiosity. "So… what is it like inside the Gate?"
Clara placed her cup gently on its saucer. Her gaze turned distant. "Empty… and hollow. No sky, no ground. Just endless darkness. But I wasn't alone."
Nyra fell silent, listening closely.
"There's an entity in there," Clara continued. "He called himself the Gatekeeper. But his purpose isn't to protect… he wants to destroy this world."
Nyra furrowed her brow.
"He also said something I still don't fully understand. That we're all trapped in a cycle of unending mistakes."
"A cycle?" Nyra echoed quietly, her eyes slightly clouded with confusion. "Does he mean… the world has been repeating the same errors? Or… that something keeps happening over and over?"
Clara gave a slight shrug. "I don't know for sure. But after he gave that warning, I… saw something. Strange places. Not from this world. Not from any legend or folklore I know."
Nyra pressed her lips together thoughtfully. "If that's true… perhaps you glimpsed fragments of worlds once connected through the Gate. Worlds that are now lost."
Clara lowered her gaze for a moment, as though weighing her next words. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but trembling with earnestness.
"Why do you believe what I said?" she asked, lifting her gaze slowly until her eyes met Nyra's calm expression. "Anyone else would probably think I'm just... making things up."
Nyra took a sip of her tea before setting the cup down. "Because I can sense the presence of deception in a person. It appears in the body's subtle waves and the slightest changes in facial expression when they lie. But when you speak, Clara... I sense none of that. All I feel is... a clear and honest truth."
Clara fell silent for a moment.
Nyra placed both hands on her lap, then asked, her eyes sharp as they studied Clara's face, "But tell me... are you truly ready for the Northern Region?"
Clara flinched slightly, not answering right away.
"Because... the way you stand, the way your aura feels... You don't strike me as someone willing to stain herself with blood, do you?" Nyra added softly—not with judgment, but with sympathy.
Clara tightened her grip on the teacup. Her mind briefly flashed to the moment she stabbed a rabbit in the forest that day. The sight of blood had terrified her then. "I... don't know. But there's one thing I'm sure of—I can't turn back. If I don't try... no one will be able to stop them."
Nyra offered a faint smile, as if she understood. "That's enough."
After a while, they rose from their seats. Nyra stepped forward and extended her hand.
"Thank you for talking with me. I... haven't spoken like this to anyone in a long time. It felt good."
Clara gently accepted the hand, hesitating slightly—it wasn't an ordinary hand—but she took it nonetheless. "You're welcome. I enjoyed it too."
And in a blink of soft light, the scene shifted again.
Clara now stood outside the tower. The cold wind brushed against her face, and the bustling sounds of the town returned to her ears. In front of her stood Liorin, looking slightly relieved to see her.
"You were in there for quite a while," Liorin said, scanning her carefully for any signs of harm.
Clara replied with a small smile. But in her eyes—it was clear she now carried a new burden, and newfound knowledge.