The descent was not for the faint of heart. The staircase fell deep into the earth — far below the academy, farther even than its ancient catacombs — into a labyrinth forged by magic itself. The stones glimmered faintly under Callista's rune of guidance, casting gold-blue sparks against the oppressive blackness. Each step forward seemed to carry them further away from the world above — farther from safety — yet also closer to the truth.
Ezra tightened his grip on Felton Harper's tome, its magic growing increasingly warm, a gentle pulse against his fingertips. Inside its fragile, ink-stained pages, Harper had encoded a map — a path toward understanding the artifact's true power — and toward redeeming magic before it fell into chaos.
Callista fell into step beside him, reluctantly trusting both him and Harper. "Did you… notice something about Harper's manifestation?" she whispered. "He seemed… worried. Fearful — not for us, but for magic itself. What could be so catastrophic that Felton Harper chose death over letting it happen?"
Ezra pressed the tome close to his heart. "Whatever it is… we're about to find out. Harper chose me… chose us… to redeem magic. We must be strong enough to carry that fate forward." His magic glowed faintly — a shimmering aura — a manifestation of his growing power.
The staircase opened into a vast chamber — a labyrinthine vault forged from black obsidian and gold. The moment their feet touched its floor, a chorus of voices rose from the stones — hundreds… perhaps even a thousand — whispering their names in a chorus that made their skin prickle.
"Ezra Vale… Callista Valeheart… the fate of magic hangs upon your choices." The chorus fell silent — then a shimmering form rose from a pool of liquid gold in the center of the chamber. The form slowly coalesced into a silhouette — a creature made of magic, knowledge, and pure will — a manifestation of magic's fate.
"It is time… for you to decipher your destiny."