*Transitioning to Vox's POV
The house that towered before Vox was unlike anything he had seen before.
Massive in size and unmistakably noble in structure, its very presence radiated an air of refinement and purpose.
The exterior walls, composed of dark, smooth stone, were etched with intricate crimson runes that carved into every corner, every crevice—each line a piece of arcane craftsmanship.
The runes pulsed faintly, giving off a soft glow that ran through the stone like veins of living energy, as though the house itself was sustained by a flow of ancient power.
Atop the structure, almost as a crown, stood an enormous metal scope pointed directly at the sky.
Its polished surface gleamed faintly beneath the light of the protective dome above. Vox squinted upward, adjusting his glasses.
"A telescope...?" he muttered to himself with a faint squint. "Or maybe something more."
Before he could speculate further, Merilyn stepped forward, her knuckles rapping gently against the darkwood door.
*Knock... *knock... *knock!
The sound echoed slightly through the still air.
She then turned toward Vox with a cheerful smile that stood in stark contrast to the building's solemn exterior.
"All righty!" she chimed. "Your mentor will be here any moment, Vox—we're going to keep moving now."
Ophelia, who stood beside her, offered a simple but sincere nod.
"Good luck, Vox."
The others followed suit—each of his friends casting him a final glance, one filled not with worry, but quiet encouragement.
There was trust in their expressions.
Faith.
Vox gave a short nod in return, his lips twitching into a faint smile.
He watched them turn away, their silhouettes slowly shrinking as they followed the winding path back toward their own destinations.
Within moments, they were gone, and he was left standing alone before the silent, rune-covered house.
He turned slowly back to the towering door, the glow of the runes reflecting in his glasses.
His fingers rose to adjust them slightly, his eyes tracing the symbols with deliberate care.
They shimmered like blood-red lightning, crisscrossing the wood in a pattern that seemed to beat like a heart.
A part of him couldn't help but feel watched—as if the building itself was waiting.
*CREAK...!
A sudden sound shattered the silence.
The massive door groaned open slowly, spilling a thin line of light across the stone steps beneath his feet.
Vox instinctively took a cautious step back, his body tensing as he prepared for anything.
A maid stood in the doorway. Her uniform was modest, elegant—crisp lines, muted tones, yet undeniably well-made.
Her posture was perfect, her hands folded in front of her, and her face an unreadable canvas of professionalism.
She didn't speak.
She merely stepped to the side and motioned for him to enter with a slight gesture.
Vox blinked once, then gave himself a quiet nod of reassurance.
"Right... I guess this is the part where I walk in."
With hesitant steps, he crossed the threshold and entered.
At once, the air changed.
It was cooler inside, but not in the way of coldness—it was the kind of cool that came with marble halls, libraries, and ancient places of power.
The silence was thick, but not empty.
It had a weight to it.
A silence that seemed cultivated, even curated.
The floor beneath him gleamed like glass, reflecting the warm golden lighting from the hanging fixtures above.
The walls were impossibly high, lined with immense bookshelves that stretched nearly to the ceiling.
Each one held thick tomes bound in metal and hide, their spines lined with symbols that pulsed faintly with internal light.
Metallic scroll cases rested between them—some sealed, others open, revealing diagrams, runes, and mysterious scripts.
The furniture was like art.
Darkwood chairs and tables carved with fluid, spiraling patterns.
Silver runes danced along their edges, catching the light as he passed.
Velvet curtains hung from tall windows, casting long shadows across the crimson stone floor.
In the center of the room, a massive telescope extended upward through a slit in the ceiling, aimed at some unseen constellation far beyond the dome's barrier.
If Merilyn's home had been warm and humble with personality, this place felt like the inside of a scholar's mind—structured, purposeful, and brimming with knowledge.
Every inch seemed handcrafted for thought, for study, for mastery.
Vox took another breath and moved deeper, his steps echoing softly.
*Thud... *thud... *thud...
He stepped farther in, his eyes absorbing the grand space around him.
The glowing runes that wrapped around the walls seemed to throb in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Gold-trimmed furniture lined the sides—throne-like chairs with tall backs, scroll-covered tables, and glowing crystal orbs suspended midair.
The orbs turned slowly on their axes, casting shimmering reflections across the space.
The deeper he walked, the more he felt it.
The presence.
The house felt alive.
Not haunted—but intelligent.
A place that didn't just hold knowledge but remembered it.
Then,
*Thump!
he bumped into someone.
Startled, Vox spun around, heart leaping into his throat.
Before him stood a tall woman, her posture sharp and dignified, her long crimson hair woven into a precise braid that fell gracefully over her shoulder.
Her eyes, vibrant and piercing, seemed to read him in an instant.
The rectangular lenses of her glasses caught the ambient light and flashed once as she tilted her head.
Her expression was neutral—but her gaze?
Calculating.
Scholarly.
Unforgiving.
"So," she said smoothly, her voice composed and cool, "you're the child I've been assigned to mentor?"
"U-uh… yes," Vox replied, flustered as he adjusted his own glasses.
"Lady Merilyn brought me here, so I think… yes."
She gave a single, silent nod.
"Very well. We'll begin immediately. Follow me."
Without waiting for confirmation, she turned on her heel and strode down the hall, her long coat fluttering slightly with each step.
*Thud! *Thud! *Thud!
Vox hurried after her, his palms slightly clammy as he clutched the sleeves of his robes.
The corridor seemed to stretch forever, lit by high arched windows of crimson and gold.
As they passed, synthetic candles along the walls flickered to life—responding to their presence.
"I presume you understand the concept of eidra?" she asked without turning.
"Yes," Vox answered with confidence.
"Lady Merilyn gave me a thorough explanation. But I've been studying it even before that."
He cleared his throat and recited firmly,
"Eidra is in all living things. It's infinite, unending. The force that binds matter, soul, and energy. If removed or corrupted—mortals lose themselves. They turn into eidra corrupted beasts."
She didn't slow her pace.
But she gave a small nod.
"Mhm. Adequate."
They stopped in front of a towering set of double doors—black stone etched with a spiral of crimson runes.
She pressed her palm to the center.
*Whirrrr!
The runes flared brightly, the door releasing a
*hissss!
as the seal broke and the doors swung slowly open.
"I've been told you're not a fighter," she said finally, looking at him squarely.
"That's acceptable. Combat is only one path. Not all strengths lie in the blade."
She paused—letting her words settle.
"In this house, intellect is everything. What you lack in strength… can be refined into precision. Into control. Into something greater than mere violence."
With that, the doors opened fully.
Vox stepped forward, his mouth parting in awe.
What lay beyond was no ordinary room.
It was a universe.
An endless chamber stretched out before him, spiraling bookshelves climbing toward a high ceiling that shimmered with stars—not real stars, but synthetic projections that mimicked the night sky.
Floating lanterns hovered above, bobbing gently and casting light across the shelves, scrolls, and polished floors.
In between the books were machines—complex contraptions of glass and steel.
Gears turned, steam hissed, and metallic limbs shifted.
*Click! *Clack! *Hiss!
Mechanical arms reached up to rearrange scrolls.
Small drones hovered with glowing eyes.
Calculating engines ticked and turned, recording formulas and rearranging diagrams.
This was more than a library.
It was a forge of the mind.
Vox stepped in, slowly, reverently.
"I've never seen this many books... not in one place," he said softly, spinning once to take it all in.
She walked beside him, unfazed by the grandeur.
"This is my research. My archive. My legacy. And now—it shall be the foundation of your training."
She stopped and turned toward him.
"My name is Mezra," she said with calm pride. "Of House Sorellia. Scholar. Inventor. Strategist. Battlemaster."
She adjusted her glasses with one sharp movement.
"And from this moment forward… you will address me as teacher."