The sky above was unlike anything I'd ever seen on Earth.
A shifting sea of colors violet, deep crimson, silver-blue clouds moved like living things across a vast canvas. Floating islands hovered in the distance, ringed with glowing runes and tethered by threads of lightning to towers so tall, they scraped the underbelly of the heavens.
I sat stiffly inside the floating carriage, my back pressed against the smooth obsidian wall. The interior hummed softly with magic. Glyphs shimmered across the black stone surface, alive with ancient power I could barely comprehend.
The man who sat across from me hadn't spoken since we left the auction.
He didn't need to. His silence was more commanding than most men's voices.
He was cloaked entirely in black, from the folds of his hood to the long mantle that draped over his shoulders like the night sky itself. Only his eyes those piercing silver orbs glowing faintly like twin moons stood out from the darkness. Every movement he made was calculated, exact, as if even breathing was a decision.
I didn't know who he truly was.
But the guards had whispered his name with something between awe and fear.
Arkon. The Archmage of Zareth.
A legend in this world, it seemed. And now, my master.
"You're too calm for someone who just escaped the slave pits."
His voice cut through the silence like a blade dipped in frost.
I didn't answer immediately. My body was still aching from days.maybe weeks of beatings, starvation, and magical binding. But I forced myself to sit straighter, to look him in the eye.
"I've been through worse," I said simply.
He raised a brow. "Death?"
"Yes."
His gaze lingered on me, and something flickered in his expression curiosity, maybe. Or calculation.
"You remember it clearly, then?"
"The crash. The fire. My body burning. The light fading."
"And now?"
"Now I'm here. In a world of magic, chained like a dog."
A hint of amusement ghosted across his lips. "You adapt quickly. Most who reincarnate scream for days. Many go mad. The soul doesn't always survive the crossing."
I folded my arms. "Maybe I was already broken before I came here."
His expression darkened. "No. You're not broken. You're new. That makes you dangerous."
We fell into silence again. I watched the world below pass in a blur. Forests the size of countries stretched beneath us. Herds of scaled beasts roamed the grasslands, and colossal towers carved from crystal jutted from mountains like the fangs of ancient gods.
Eventually, the floating city of Zareth appeared in the distance.
My breath caught.
It was unlike anything I had imagined even with all the fantasy novels and games I'd devoured in my old life. The city was built atop a mountain island suspended in the sky by glowing chains of pure energy. Dozens of towers each uniquely designed pierced the air, connected by bridges that shimmered like liquid glass. Waterfalls cascaded off the edges of the city into the sky below, disappearing into clouds thick with magic.
Runes the size of buildings rotated slowly in the sky around the city like sentient satellites.
This was a place of power. Of history. Of danger.
We descended onto a massive circular platform carved from obsidian. As the carriage touched down, the glyphs beneath us lit up in a spiral pattern, and the hum of magic intensified. Runes floated into the air like embers from a flame, surrounding the platform with a faint barrier of shimmering blue.
The carriage doors opened.
I followed Arkon, my legs trembling slightly, whether from fatigue or awe, I couldn't tell. The moment my bare feet touched the stone, I felt something… shift. A subtle vibration moved through the ground, into my bones. The city itself was alive conscious, somehow.
A robed figure approached, bowing with deep reverence.
"Master Arkon," the man said, his voice tight with respect. "The Council of the Circle has been notified of your return. Your chambers have been prepared."
"And the initiate?" Arkon asked, gesturing to me.
The robed man barely looked at me. "The Initiate's Quarters are ready. Shall I summon the cleansing orb?"
"Yes. He reeks of death and filth. See to it personally."
The man bowed again and motioned for me to follow.
I did, wordlessly, though my mind spun with questions.
The corridor we walked down was carved from black stone that glowed faintly along the edges. I passed doors that pulsed with energy, portraits that moved and blinked, and statues that seemed to watch me as I walked. The air smelled of incense, ozone, and something old, older than time itself.
Eventually, we reached a small chamber.
Inside was a single pedestal, atop which hovered a glowing sphere the size of a melon. The moment I stepped into the room, it flared with light.
"Stand still," the robed man ordered. "The cleansing will begin now."
He left the room.
The orb began to hum, and a fine mist sprayed from its core, enveloping me. At first it was warm, soothing but then it grew hotter, stinging slightly as it seeped into every pore, every cut. I gritted my teeth as dirt, sweat, dried blood, and even some of the pain was burned away. When it ended, I stood gasping, my skin tingling, cleaner than I'd ever felt in either life.
A mirror-like surface shimmered on the wall. I looked into it.
The boy staring back at me was unfamiliar.
Thin. Pale. Bruised but sharp-eyed. Focused. The pain hadn't broken me. It had reforged me.
"You are not the same," I whispered to my reflection. "And you never will be."
The door opened.
Arkon entered, alone this time, and studied me with a flick of his eyes.
"Better. You almost resemble a human now."
I didn't rise to the insult.
He stepped closer, folding his arms behind his back.
"Tomorrow begins your Trial of Worth. The Circle does not allow outsiders to remain in Zareth. You will be tested in three ways—body, mind, and spirit. If you fail, you'll be cast into the Void Quarry below."
"And if I pass?" I asked, standing taller.
"Then I'll personally oversee your training."
His words hit like a thunderclap.
Arkon the Archmage, the man whose very presence made seasoned warriors tremble was offering to train me.
"Why?" I asked, not hiding the suspicion in my voice.
He stepped past me and looked out the rune-scribed window toward the towers.
"Because change is coming. This empire Valtheon is rotting from the inside. The nobles squabble over land, the mages over bloodlines, and the gods have long since turned their faces away."
He turned to me, and for the first time, I saw something beneath his icy expression.
Purpose.
"The world needs chaos, Jace Elrin. You… are the seed."
He left the room, his cloak trailing behind him like smoke.
I stood in silence for several minutes.
And then I lay down on the bed provided—simple, firm, clean.
But I didn't sleep.
I couldn't.
Because tomorrow, I would face the first test.
And I wouldn't fail.
Not again.