Riven stepped into his room and shut the door behind him with a soft click. The second the latch settled, he snapped his fingers.
Whoosh.
Books stacked. Bed made. Dust vanished. His entire room practically inhaled itself into pristine order.
"Ahh. Magic-level productivity," he muttered, collapsing against the windowsill like a cat claiming its throne.
He pushed the window open, letting the crisp night air roll in. The moon hung high—silver, still, and a little too quiet for someone who just came back from an ancient realm filled with death trials, magical trees, and reality-altering swords.
He exhaled, eyes flicking to the horizon. "What events have I even been through…"
Out beyond the hills and flickering lights of farmland, the sprawling city of Solvarath shone like a galaxy stitched into the land—towers lit with floating glyphs, aerial trams weaving through the air, and domes of magic pulsing softly atop academies and guildhalls.
It was beautiful. And overwhelming. And home.
He lived far from the heart of the city—sixty kilometers out, past the sky-trains and skyscrapers, in the quiet outskirts where green plains whispered secrets and the air still smelled like morning dew.
Not quite rural. Not quite city. Just far enough for the stars to feel close.
Riven stretched his arms behind his head, then gave a half-snort, half-chuckle.
"Even I can't believe I'm twelve," he muttered, lips curling into a lazy grin. "Then again… I am a genius. Just stating facts."
He reached into the side of his coat, fingers brushing against the cool surface of the pitch-black grimoire. The moment he touched it, the faint hum of ancient magic tickled his fingertips. No warmth. No invitation. Just… presence.
"Alright, mystery book," he murmured, flipping it open. "Let's see what that mysterious, overpowered weirdo left me."
The pages remained stubbornly shut—except for one.
Just one.
It was blank.
At first.
Then, ink bled up from the paper like it was being whispered into existence, the letters twisting into form as if the book itself was… talking.
Greetings, Owner. If you are able to read this, it means I was passed on to you by my creator. As of today, I belong to you—no longer connected to him in any way.
Riven blinked. "Okay, this is either really cool or really cursed."
I contain many secrets and teachings—of magic, of combat, of techniques long lost to the ages. Even from other worlds. From beings beyond this realm. You might wonder why the rest of my pages are sealed…
That is because you are not worthy yet.
Riven raised a brow. "Wow. Bold."
This is not an insult, dear Owner.
"Felt like one," he mumbled.
My pages open only when you grow. When you succeed. When your soul unlocks more of what you are meant to be. Even my previous master—my creator—was not able to learn all that I contain. It took him over a million years to record everything. As he wandered through space. Through countless worlds. Always observing. Always learning.
Riven closed the book slowly, a rare hush settling over him.
It felt... heavier now. Not in weight. In meaning.
"So you're telling me... I own a magical diary full of forbidden cosmic secrets that only opens when I impress it?"
The book didn't respond.
"Figures," he sighed, setting it down gently beside him.
He leaned back against the window frame, the city lights twinkling in the distance like silent stars. Somewhere out there, kids were asleep. Parents were arguing over burnt toast. Teachers were grading mundane essays on virtue and kindness.
And here he was.
Owner of a dimension.
Bearer of a soulbound sword.
And now... reader of a grimoire that judged him harder than his Moral Philosophy teacher.
"...Still better than school," Riven muttered.
The page turned on its own.
Riven blinked. "Oh? Taking initiative now, are we?"He leaned closer, eyes narrowing at the glowing title forming at the top of the page.
Title: How to Be an All-Elemental Being.
Riven stared.
Then he stared harder.
Then—without hesitation—he casually picked up the grimoire and slammed it to the ground.
"What the heck, man?!" he snapped, hands thrown up. "How am I supposed to become an all-elemental being in a single freaking day?!"
He pointed at the book dramatically, as if it had personally insulted his bloodline.
"I just got out of a reality trial! I haven't even unpacked my emotions yet! And you're out here handing me god-level homework like we're on a timer?!"
The book vibrated faintly, almost smug.
Riven glared. "Don't you dare act superior. You're literally a magic notebook."
He picked it back up, brushing off some dust with a sigh."Alright, alright. One page at a time. But listen here, spooky book—if I explode trying to cast water-fire-lightning-void-earth-air-shadow-whatever fusion magic, I'm suing your soul."
The book glowed faintly.
He muttered, "Yeah, laugh it up, paperback Satan."
And flipped the page.
Riven squinted as the next page revealed itself, lines forming slowly in shimmering gold ink.A list began to appear—clean, organized, painfully long.
Elements Required to Attain All-Elemental Status:
Fire Water Earth Wind Lightning Ice Shadow Light Blood Metal Crystal Mist Poison Sound Time Space Spirit Chaos Gravity Aether Entropy
...and more.
Riven's smile slowly evaporated.
He blinked.He blinked again.
Then, in a moment of pure mental whiplash, he slammed the book to the floor again.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"
He paced back and forth in his room like a CEO reviewing a financial disaster. "I thought there'd be like... eight. Maybe ten if we're feeling spicy. But twenty?! Twenty-plus?!"
He pointed an accusing finger at the grimoire as if it were personally responsible for his emotional damage."And what the hell is Aether?! What is Entropy?! I don't even know what those mean! Is that science or fantasy? Pick a side!"
The book, predictably, stayed silent.
He groaned and dropped into his chair, head in his hands."Fire, water, wind, earth—I get that. I have those. I've mastered them enough to light candles and not burn the house down."
He glanced at the rest of the list."Shadow? Maybe. Blood? That's edgy but fine. Gravity? Sounds illegal. Spirit? Sounds vague. Entropy? Bro, that's just a physics problem."
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
"I'm twelve. I'm supposed to be worrying about homework and pimples. Not decoding ancient elemental hierarchies like I'm a magical tax accountant."
He flipped the book closed, staring at the thick width of untouched pages.
"If this is the first page… what the hell is hiding in those fat chapters?"
He glared at the book one more time.
"If this thing tells me I also need to learn emotions as an element, I swear I'm feeding it to a campfire."
The book rustled slightly.
He pointed. "Don't test me, demon Kindle."
Just as Riven was about to throw a pillow at the book for emotional support, more text unfurled beneath the overwhelming list of elements, as if the grimoire had been patiently waiting for his tantrum to end:
"Attain mastery over any 15 elements to access the next page."
A glowing sigil—shaped like a rotating hexagram wrapped in ancient script—burned itself onto the side of the page with a fwshhhp. It shimmered once… then dimmed, locking in place like some smug magical padlock.
Riven stared at it.
Then at the page.
Then at the rest of the book—which now refused to open further. The remaining pages were clamped together like they'd been superglued by a god with a trust issue.
He poked them. Hard. They didn't budge.
"…You've got to be joking."
He tried prying them open again. No dice.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "So I need to become a fifteen-elemental godling just to read the next freakin' page?"
He glared at the sigil.
"It's like magical Netflix, but every episode requires a PhD."
The book, as usual, remained utterly unbothered.
Riven placed his palm on the glowing seal. Instantly, a tidal wave of knowledge slammed into his brain like a cosmic freight train. His eyes flashed gold, pulsing with raw energy and overload. Sweat beaded down his forehead as his mind scrambled to catch up.
After a long moment of intense mental chaos, he straightened up, face set with fierce determination — the kind of serious look that said, Don't mess with me, I just swallowed the universe.
"Oh… oh, fuck," he muttered under his breath, voice low and trembling.
Then, a sly grin spread across his lips, dark and wicked like a villain who just snatched the hero's legendary sword.
"I think I can do this."
He clenched his fists, eyes glittering with ambition.
"Fifteen elements? Nah. I'll do twenty. Give me twenty days."
He chuckled softly, the kind of laugh that echoed with the thrill of a challenge accepted—and soon, crushed.
"Oh dear," Riven muttered, stretching his arms above his head. "But I guess I need time… and a place."
He paused, eyes lighting up with realization.
"Oh yeah. When will that gramps' place come in handy, huh? I am the owner of that realm now, am I not?" His grin grew wider. "And my own pocket realm's connected to it. Double win."
He stepped back, folding his arms, looking thoughtful for exactly two seconds before smirking again.
"Besides, I gotta look after my people now, don't I?" he said, voice mockingly noble. "Can't have them forming a kingdom without me and calling it Rivenia or something stupid."
He snapped his fingers dramatically, the familiar ripple of space bending around him.
"Oh—and what was that place's name again? Myrt... Myr... Mrrythguh-whatever. Honestly, who names a realm like it's coughing up syllables."
And with that sarcastic mutter, Riven vanished in a blink of golden light—leaving behind a faint shimmer of laughter and dramatic flair, like he was making an entrance... in reverse.