The sky above Daltheria was fading, painted in soft violet and orange. The world looked calm, but to Altherion, it only felt more dangerous.
He stood alone at the edge of the woods, far from the city, where silence was heavy and real. This place had no guards, no walls, no people. Only trees... and something deep inside them watching.
He chose it on purpose.
"I need to become stronger," he whispered.
It wasn't dramatic. It was a fact.
He looked at his own hands. They felt warm. There was something inside them, something he could feel now. A small pulse, almost like a second heartbeat. It wasn't his. It belonged to this world. It was mana.
He stepped into the clearing and took a breath. His thoughts were racing.
Virevia is dangerous. Everyone says that. And now I know it's true.
Even though he skipped the story when playing the game before, he always remembered one thing, "If you don't learn fast, you die fast." So he chose to learn.
"Let's start with fire," he muttered.
He raised his hand, focusing, trying to feel the mana. A flicker of flame appeared, dancing weakly. It looked like a candle struggling in the wind. He sighed.
"That's not a fireball. That's... breakfast lighting."
He tried again. Another flicker. Too weak. Again, this time, it exploded and nearly burnt his eyebrows.
"Okay. Progress," he said, half laughing.
But then, something changed.
Altherion stopped and sat on the ground. His hands moved without thinking, drawing shapes on the dirt. Spirals. Angles. He stared at them, confused. They looked familiar. Not from magic, but from... physics? Math?
That's when it hit him.
Magic here followed rules. Real rules.
He stood up, eyes wide. He tried again, this time not just forcing mana, but shaping it. He imagined frequency, energy flow, direction of force. It was like solving a math problem.
And it worked.
A small fireball formed again, but now it was spinning, controlled. It didn't shake. It didn't explode. It hovered above his hand like a machine made of light and heat.
"A plasma reaction?" he whispered. "Is this... real?"
The numbers made sense in his head. The temperature. The movement. The energy loss. This wasn't fantasy. It was science with a different skin.
He laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it made sense.
"I understand this. I know how this works."
But as the fire faded, something else came to his mind, something colder.
Why did he know this?
He tried to remember. School? A job? A classroom? Faces? There was a fog. Heavy and thick. He remembered numbers, theories, formulas but not himself.
He knew what force meant. He knew what acceleration was. He could explain quantum fields. But he didn't know who taught him that. Or when. Or why.
Who was he?
He closed his eyes, searching.
Nothing.
Only a name.
Altherion.
Was it even real?
"Stop," he whispered. "Not now."
He opened his eyes. Focused. He looked at his hands again.
"I'll figure that out later. For now... I need to survive."
He raised his hand again, this time with purpose. He made the same motion. Spiral, push, twist. Fire answered.
But the fireball jumped to the side and landed in a bush. It exploded.
A loud squawk followed as a fat bird jumped out, flapping its wings wildly.
"MAAAK!"
"I'm sorry! That was a test!"
The bird glared at him like it understood, then flew away.
Altherion stood there, blinking.
"Well, at least I'm getting better."
He smiled a little, then sat back down. His fingers still tingled with energy. Magic wasn't a gift in this world. It was a tool. And like any tool, you had to learn how to use it.
"I need to study this world. Slowly. Carefully. Before my mind burns like that bush."
The wind answered with silence. But Altherion had already made up his mind.
He would become stronger. He would find out how this world worked.
Altherion wasn't done.
The little fireball trick was just the beginning. If magic in Virevia truly followed logical rules, then it could be tested, measured. And if it could be measured, it could be improved.
He cleared a space in the grass and took a stick to draw again. His hands moved quickly, drawing shapes and numbers like someone solving a physics exam in the middle of a forest.
"Okay," he muttered, "mana behaves like a form of energy. But energy can be converted. So what happens when I apply a compression field and trigger a feedback loop?"
He stared at his own drawing: a crude diagram of a looped spell structure. It looked like two spirals joined at the ends, with runes representing compression, rotation, and a weird symbol he wasn't sure even existed in the original game.
He named it the 'Mana Cyclotron.'
He had no idea if that was a real term, but it sounded smart.
"The idea is simple," he explained to no one. "Compress the mana from both sides, force it to collide at the center, and release the energy through a vent. Like a magical jet engine."
He stood, took position, and shaped the spell in the air. His fingers traced invisible lines, connecting imaginary points. He poured mana into it slowly, carefully.
The spell began to glow faintly.
"Here we go... just need to balance the flow-"
The moment he said that, the mana pulse shot sideways. The air cracked with heat, and the spirals spun too fast. One flickered, the other snapped out of alignment.
"Wait, wait, no-!"
The spell collapsed in on itself with a loud POP followed by an even louder BOOM!
Altherion was launched backward like a ragdoll thrown by an angry toddler. He barely had time to scream before he felt himself falling through the air.
And then-
Whump.
He didn't hit the ground.
He hit someone.
"Urrgh-" came a voice under him.
Altherion blinked, dazed, his nose full of the smell of wildflowers and some kind of weird herbal perfume. He was lying on something soft. Something... human?
He looked down.
It was Liesette.
She was sitting awkwardly on the grass, arms out like she had just caught a giant sack of potatoes that screamed.
"Altherion..." she said, squinting. "Why you fall from the sky like this?"
Altherion tried to get up, but one of his legs was still over her lap, and his elbow was in her hair.
"Sorry, sorry, I didn't know it would end like this."
⁰"You're heavy, you know."
"You... uh, thank you," Altherion said, finally standing, brushing dirt off his coat and pride.
Liesette stood too, inspecting him like a disappointed school nurse. "What in Virevia were you doing? There was a fireball and a noise like a volcano sneezing."
Altherion scratched his head. " was... doing science."
She raised an eyebrow. "Science?"
"Well, magical science."
Liesette crossed her arms, looking both unimpressed and slightly curious. "Are you trying to blow yourself up? Or are you just very ambitious?"
Altherion grinned sheepishly. "Little bit of both?"
She sighed and shook her head. "Honestly. You're like a puppy that discovered lightning. Dangerous, but kind of adorable."
He opened his mouth to respond, then decided silence was safer.
"I'm fine, just a miscalculation."
"Uh-huh," Liesette said, brushing leaves off her dress. "Next time, miscalculate somewhere that won't send flaming squirrels into the sky."
Altherion blinked. "Wait, there were squirrels?!"
She didn't answer. She just started walking toward the city again.
"Well, come on, Professor Boom. Let's get you somewhere that doesn't explode. You clearly need supervision."
Altherion followed, rubbing the back of his head.
He had learned something useful about mana.
He had also accidentally set part of the forest on fire.
But at least he didn't do it alone.
***
Altherion walked beside Liesette, his steps still a little clumsy as he tried to adjust to the rhythm of the city's life.
Daltheria wasn't huge, but it was layered like a cake with too many stories and each layer seemed to hold more books, more rumors, more secrets.
Liesette, walking a step ahead, was talking about something again, probably about the statue in front of the Hall of Echoes or how the old bakery down the street once supplied bread to a royal general during the Salt Rebellion. Altherion nodded along, not because he was listening, but because he had learned that's what people expected you to do when they talked.
Until something unusual caught his eye.
They had just passed a small antique shop tucked between a cobbler's workshop and a spice vendor. In its window sat a dusty wooden tablet with strange markings shapes and lines that curved like river paths but felt… familiar.
Altherion stopped.
"Wait," he said, eyes narrowing at the writing. "This…"
Liesette turned, a little confused. "What? Oh, that? That's just an old Trilium fragment. Nothing important... well, actually, it might be important but no one can read it. Scholars have tried for decades."
He tilted his head. "But… this one says 'veil,' doesn't it? Or 'barrier'?"
Liesette blinked.
It was as if someone had just flipped a switch in her brain. She rushed back, eyes wide. "What did you say?!"
Altherion took a step back. "I just, uh... read it. I think. It just made sense."
"You think?!" Liesette's voice cracked, caught somewhere between excitement and panic. "Do you know what that means?!"
Altherion frowned. "That I have a headache now?"
She grabbed both his shoulders, eyes gleaming. "That writing is Trilium. It's not just some old script, it's a living language. You don't learn Trilium like you do other languages. You attune to it. It chooses people. You're supposed to be chosen."
Altherion stared at her. "Are you saying I've been chosen by squiggly letters?"
"Yes!" Liesette practically vibrated with energy. "Altherion, you don't understand! Trilium is believed to be directly connected to the era of the Trium Alignment! That period when three moons aligned and strange things happened across Virevia! If you chosen by this language, it means you're special. And more importantly… you can help me."
Altherion rubbed the back of his neck. "Help you with…?"
"Well," she said, stepping back and fixing her hair like she hadn't just screamed into his face, "there's a small... okay, slightly sealed temple outside the city. It might hold records, maybe even answers about the Alignment. But the seal has Trilium writing, and no one can read it. Except, apparently, you."
He hesitated. This felt… strange. Too big. Too fast. Like he'd been handed the keys to a door he didn't know existed.
But still… he had agreed to understand this world better. And if this was part of it... well, it was better than wandering around dodging boars and exploding his own face.
"…Fine, but only if you stop shouting 'you're chosen' like I'm a prophet."
Liesette grinned. "Deal. Also, I'll teach you what I know of Trilium, what little I do know, of course. Even the best linguists don't fully get it. But with your talent and my guidance, we might be able to crack something no one else has."
Altherion glanced back at the tablet, his eyes catching the letters once more. They didn't just look familiar, they felt like they were moving. Breathing. Waiting.
For him.
"Yeah," he muttered to himself. "Because that's not creepy at all…"
***
They sat inside a quiet corner of the Daltherian Archive, one of the few places in the city where dust was respected like an elder. Scrolls lined the shelves like sleeping snakes, and the dim candlelight made every shadow feel like it was eavesdropping.
Liesette unrolled a scroll slowly, with care, like it might explode if she moved too fast. Altherion watched, arms folded, one eyebrow already raised in suspicion.
"This," Liesette said, pointing at the curling, elegant symbols on the parchment, "is written in Trilium."
Altherion blinked. "The ancient language?"
She nodded. "Yes. The language connected to the Trium Alignment. Most people can't read it because it's not just a language. It's… alive, in a way. It chooses who can understand it."
Altherion leaned closer. The characters didn't look like letters. They looked like thoughts frozen into shapes.
"But if only chosen people can read it," he asked, "then how do you understand any of it?"
Liesette puffed her cheeks, clearly a little embarrassed. "I… don't really understand it. Not completely. My mentor at the Institute, Professor Norell, he was one of the few people who had partial success with Trilium glyphs. He trained me to recognize some of the base forms. Enough to match patterns. I can't read it like a real script but I can spot repetitions, and compare them with old manuscripts."
She tapped her finger on one of the curling marks. "This one, for example, appears in almost every recorded artifact linked to the Trium Alignment. We don't know what it means. Some think it's a name. Others think it's a warning."
Altherion stared. "And I just… read it as 'veil' without knowing why."
Liesette smiled with a hint of awe. "Exactly. That's why I said you might be one of the chosen ones. I spent six years in the Institute and still couldn't read even a single glyph properly. You glanced at it once and gave a plausible translation."
Altherion scratched his head. "I wouldn't say 'plausible'… I just looked at it and the word popped into my head."
"Which is exactly how it's supposed to work," she said, voice rising with excitement. "Professor Norell always believed the true readers didn't learn Trilium, they remembered it."
Altherion looked back at the scroll. Remembered it?
The symbols danced slightly in his vision. Not like hallucinations. More like… echoes of something real. Memories that didn't belong to him but still felt like his.
"Maybe I did know this once, maybe I forgot."
Liesette tilted her head. "Forgot what?"
He shook his head. "I don't know."
There was a silence between them not awkward, just thoughtful.
Then Liesette clapped her hands once, breaking the quiet like smashing a window.
"Well! In that case, you're my student now. I'll teach you what I know and you'll teach me what you feel."
"…That sounds like a scam."
She grinned. "It is. But it's an academic one, so it's allowed."