It had been a full day since the kitchen incident. The image of a passed-out grown woman half-draped in mage robes decided to brand itself into Lucian's mind permanently.
Since then, things had… stabilized. Sort of.
Ellie, as it turned out, was a different creature entirely when sober. Her eyes were sharp, her words sharper. Glasses sat perfectly on her face, her blonde hair straight and tidy and she spoke like someone who had spent more time with arcane theorems than people. .No more slurred wine wisdom or drowsy owl complaints. She was a professor now.
And unfortunately, he was her student.
They stood behind the crooked red house. A dummy had been set up in the garden between two spitting plants that hissed whenever he stepped too close. Ellie, arms crossed and frowning, tapped her foot like a ticking metronome.
"Go on," she said. "Show me your mana bolt."
Lucian shrugged. White tunic and trousers, lean build, mischievous eyes and smirk, he looked like a prince about to court a princess. He raised a hand. One circle spun into life, then three rune traces spiraled to the center. A condensed blue bolt snapped into shape, thin like a dagger but humming with pressure.
He let it fly.
CRACK.
The reinforced bolt didn't just strike the dummy — it shattered it, reducing the upper half to splinters.
Lucian let out a small breath. "Tier one, reinforced structure. I call it—"
"That," Ellie cut in flatly, "is not a mana bolt. That's not even a cousin of a mana bolt. That's a full-blown enchanted punch to the chest of basic spell theory."
Lucian blinked. "...You said to show you."
"I said mana bolt, not mana missile with a grudge."
She pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something about "cocky prodigies" and "broken magical childhoods." Then she waved him inside. "Fine. You've got control, you've got form. But I bet you don't know jack about why mana works the way it does."
Lucian followed her back into the house. "Magic is… magic? It's shaped with intent, given form by runes or internal pathways—"
"Sit."
He did. Reluctantly.
She pulled a chalkboard from a wall (he hadn't even noticed it was there), drew a rough circle, then stabbed her chalk in the center.
"Welcome to Elaris," she said. "The Realm cradled in the Great Aether Sea. Five main continents. Five dominant races: humans, elves, dwarves, vampires, and the Fey. People don't believe Vampires and the Fey exist but that's their problem".
Lucian nodded slowly.
"This world," Ellie continued, "was once protected by gods. Long, long ago. Until the Age of Magic began—roughly three thousand years back. That's when divine silence started, dungeons began appearing… and creatures known as demons started pouring through cracks in reality."
Lucian sat up straighter. That part wasn't in anythink he had heard.
"No one knows the connection," she went on, "but a lot of theories claim it's all linked. Dungeons, demons, and the gods falling silent. Magic back then? Primitive. Unstable. Like cooking blindfolded over a volcano."
Lucian winced.
"Demon attacks grew stronger. The Realm held out — barely — until two centuries ago. That's when it changed. That's when he came."
She underlined a name on the board:
Merlin.
"Some say he came from the stars. Others claim he was the last child of the gods. Doesn't matter. What matters is: he saved us."
Lucian listened. No interruptions now.
"During the worst demon wave in recorded history, Merlin appeared out of nowhere. Alone. He cut down armies like grass. But more importantly, he brought order."
She wrote something on the board.
The Codex Arcanium.
"Magic was chaotic before him. Merlin structured it — divided it into Nine Schools: Evocation. Abjuration. Conjuration. Illusion. Enchantment. Divination. Invocation. Transmutation. Necromancy."
Lucian nodded. That, he had heard of.
"He formalized the tier system too. Seven ranks of magical mastery: Novice, Apprentice, Adept, Specialist, Expert, Archmage, Grand Arcanist. He created this framework not just for humans — but for every race that used mana."
Ellie paused there. Her eyes dimmed a little.
"But… he didn't just leave us structure. He left us fear too."
Being a master in all the schools of magic, he delved into the peak of divination and brought out...
The Prophecy.
"He predicted the end. Said a day would come when the skies would collapse, and chaos would take shape. That someone would rise who was not part of the weave — the anti-magic. The undoing."
Lucian's mouth felt dry.
"That day came, just twenty years ago...known as Doomsday."
She stepped back and let it hang.
"They called Him 'The darkness between the stars.' A being who could erase existence just by existing. He had no name. But scholars translated the runes Merlin left behind. The phrase?"
She tapped the board again:
Nullum.
He Who Is Not.
Lucian's mind raced. "Merlin fought him?"
"They say it happened in the Great Aether Sea," Ellie said softly. "Their battle shook the skies. Three weeks. Entire regions felt the ripples, the heavens lamented. Then, quiet. No sign of either of them. Just… calm."
Lucian leaned back in his chair. "So Nullum's dead?"
"Some say that. Others say he's sealed. Waiting." She adjusted her glasses and stared at Lucian. "The realm trembles sometimes, even now. It remembers."
Lucian swallowed. He had lots of questions.
For the first time, his reinforced mana bolt felt like a child's drawing beside a storm.
Ellie looked at him again. And her voice softened — not out of pity, but understanding.
"You're strong, Lucian. No doubt. But you're still a twig trying to grow in a forest that's burned before. Learn the roots… or you'll snap."
She dropped the chalk.
"History's not just stories. It's a warning."
Lucian nodded quietly.
He would remember.
The sky threatened rain. As they went inside and both sat at the center table, Ellie added
"After that day… something was left behind."
Lucian tilted his head. "What?"
"A star."
Her voice was quieter now. Reverent.
"It appeared in the sky. Just above the zenith, bright as molten silver. No one had ever seen it before. And no one's been able to explain it since. Not even the scholars,elves or the elusive Fey."
"A star…?"
"Some say it's the place where Merlin struck Nullum. Others call it his grave. Or just… what's left of their power colliding."
She let out a slow breath.
"Whatever the truth is, it's never moved. It doesn't twinkle like the rest. Just hangs there. Watching. It comes around these parts every year."
Lucian didn't reply. He couldn't. He remembered standing with his mother back in the Valemire manor, his mother telling him about that very star.
Ellie continued, "Every year, people gather across the continents and light lanterns in honor of that day. Some call it the Star of Mercy, others Hope in the Sky."
She gave a tired shrug.
"We just call it the Doomlight Festival. It's not about celebrating what happened. It's about remembering we survived it."
Lucian stared down at the table, at the opened opened books on it. He subconsciously read a line from "Why Fireball solves most problems" which made him chuckle.
A star left behind by a battle that could have ended the world.
It was beautiful. And terrifying.
Just like magic.