The room was silent except for the faint ticking of the old clock on the far wall. I sat at my desk, staring at the book that had followed me into this strange life. The very book that had dragged me out of Japan, out of my ordinary days, and thrown me into the body of Adrian Blackthorn.
Its surface no longer looked like ordinary leather. The cover pulsed faintly, as if veins of light hid beneath its skin. Then, without warning, the book began to glow. A pale radiance spilled across the table, reaching the walls of the room. Shadows twisted away from it, as if afraid.
I swallowed hard. My hands trembled, but I couldn't look away.
Letters began to crawl across the first page. Not like normal writing—these letters weren't printed, but alive, weaving themselves into place like strands of light.
And then I saw it.
Adrian Blackthorn.
My name—his name—shone in the center of the page.
I leaned closer, heart racing. My breath fogged the glowing parchment.
"Why… why my name?" I whispered.
It felt wrong. This was no ordinary book. The words pulsed with life, with power. And as I looked, I noticed something else—symbols. Three of them, hovering faintly at the edge of the page.
The same three symbols that had burned themselves into me in the nightmare.
My chest tightened. A sharp memory struck—me floating in the mist, the glowing marks circling around before they pierced my body. The pain. The suffocating fear.
And now here they were again, drawn in neat lines of golden ink.
"What… what are you?" I muttered, fingers hovering above the page. I didn't dare touch it.
The letters beneath my name shifted. Words formed slowly, deliberately, as though the book itself wanted me to read.
The First Gift: The Eyes of the Eagle
With focus of will and the flow of mana, the heir may see what cannot be seen. The veil of stone and steel will break. Distance will bend. The eye will pierce beyond the ordinary.
My eyes widened.
"The… eyes of the eagle?" I repeated aloud.
Almost immediately, images filled my mind. Not memories—visions.
I saw myself standing in a long hallway, staring at a locked chest behind layers of wood and iron. My sight pierced through, showing the gleam of hidden jewels inside.
The vision changed—I stood on a high tower. With a blink, I saw a rider far away, his face clear despite the distance, as if he stood only steps from me.
The sensation was sharp, unsettling, but exhilarating.
I pressed a hand against my forehead. "X-ray vision… and long-distance sight…?"
Was this real? Could I truly, do it? The words said with mana. But mana—how did I even use it?
My fingers trembled against the page as the words shifted again.
The Second Gift: The Whisper of Thoughts
When silence deepens, the heir may stretch his will into the stream of minds. With mana, the voice of the heart will be heard. Deception cannot hide. The mask of men will break.
I gasped.
"To… read minds?"
No—this was dangerous. My thoughts raced. To hear what people truly thought? To strip away their masks? A gift like this could shatter relationships, uncover lies, reveal enemies hiding as friends.
For a moment, I imagined myself at the dining hall again, sitting beside my sister Catherine, or facing my father's cold stare. What secrets would I hear if I let my will slip into their minds? What truths would I uncover that I was never meant to know?
My stomach twisted with both excitement and fear.
If this was real… then nothing would ever be the same again.
The words pulsed once more. A third section appeared.
The Third Gift: Sealed
The heir is not yet ready. When chains break and trials are met, the third path shall open.
That was all. No explanation. No hint. Just the word sealed.
I gritted my teeth. "Sealed? What kind of game is this?"
I stared at the glowing page until the words blurred before my eyes. The first two gifts were already overwhelming. To see beyond human sight. To hear thoughts. And yet, there was another ability, locked away like a secret waiting to consume me.
I leaned back in my chair, pressing both hands against my face.
"This… this is insane," I whispered.
Why me? Why was I thrown here, into Adrian's body, bound to cursed voices, chained to symbols, and now given powers out of a dream? Was I chosen—or was I cursed?
My thoughts spun. I remembered the whisper from before, the chilling voice that had bound me in chains. Chains bind you, heir of thorns.
Was this gift truly a blessing? Or just another chain?
The book's glow dimmed slightly, but it remained open. Its pages breathed softly, as if waiting. I tried to steady my breath, but curiosity tugged at me.
What if I tried it? What if I reached for that power now?
I looked toward the far wall of my room. The candle flickered faintly. My gaze sharpened. I tried to will something—anything—into my eyes. I thought of mana, the flow of energy I had read about in countless novels. I imagined it as light, running through my veins.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then—the wall rippled.
My breath caught. The wood seemed to thin, almost transparent. A faint outline appeared behind it, the shape of an old cabinet hidden in the next room.
My heart skipped.
It worked. It really worked.
But just as quickly, the vision collapsed. My eyes burned with sharp pain, and I staggered back.
I clutched the desk, gasping. My forehead was damp with sweat. My chest heaved.
The book glowed faintly again, mocking me with its calm golden light.
I pressed a shaking hand against my chest. "This power… it's real."
Fear crawled up my spine. Power was never free. It always came with a cost.
What price would I pay?
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm my thoughts. But the silence of the room pressed heavily against me.
And then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound shattered the stillness.
I froze. My head jerked toward the door.
The knock came again, slow, deliberate.
Someone was there.
My heart pounded in my ears. Who would visit at this hour? My father? Catherine? A servant? Or… something else?
The book still glowed faintly on the desk. I quickly shut it, though the light bled through the edges of the cover.
Another knock. Louder this time.
I swallowed hard, throat dry. My hand hovered near the edge of the desk, fingers trembling.
The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating.
Finally, the voice came.
"Adrian."
A whisper, almost like the one that had cursed me before.
Cold sweat ran down my back.
I didn't move. I didn't breathe.
The knocking stopped. Silence stretched long and thin.
I stared at the door, my body frozen between fear and curiosity.
And then—nothing.
The hallway outside was silent once again.
I sat back slowly, my body trembling, my mind torn between dread and determination. The book still waited before me, its glow fading, but its secrets far from done.
Whatever path I had stepped onto, there was no turning back.