"Who are you?" Alex thought, and the thought flowed out of his mind effortlessly, as if it didn't require words.
Instead of an answer, images appeared in Alex's mind. Not words, but memories—fragmented, chaotic, blurred by time. First, a hazy vision of a city. Magnificent, vibrant, lying at the border between forest and desert, cut by a blue ribbon of river that shimmered like liquid silver in the sun. The city, though grand and imposing, wasn't a place of wonders—magic was rare, and those who possessed it studied for years at the only magic academy. Mages were few and respected, and their presence inspired awe.
The image shifted. It showed people in their daily lives—elves with proud faces, dwarves trading weapons and ore, human children running through the streets. All of it misty, indistinct, like a dream one can never fully recall.
I... I don't remember exactly, came the voice of the Guardian, piercing Alex's mind. Too many years have passed. So many thousands of dreams, so much silence... I remember only fragments.
The visions accelerated.
Darkness. Chaos. Screams.
Demons.
No one knew when they had appeared. No one. Not even the Guardian. But he remembered pieces. Terrifying pieces, burned into his memory like seared runes.
An image of a man, his body twisting in unnatural convulsions. Blood dripping from his mouth, skin splitting as if something was trying to escape from within. His spine arched backward, bones cracked, and his eyes turned black—deep as the void. When the transformation ended, the creature pounced on its former companions, roaring with an inhuman voice.
Some of us tried to fight, the voice said. But we fell quickly... and became the very thing we fought against. Once heroes. Now monsters. Their souls were scorched, their bodies consumed by darkness. Some... mutated into things I cannot name. Too close to humans to be beasts... too monstrous to be called men.
An image followed: elves fighting shadowy figures. Some had black wings, others shapes beyond description—bodies twisted, as if something within was trying to tear its way out. Then came the escape.
It was I who buried us here, the voice said, quiet and full of pain. I gathered them—the elves, a few humans, a handful of dwarves—and led them into the underground city. I hid them there, sacrificing my magic and my body, believing the sealing spell would protect them. But then... their presence faded. Silence filled the city. They stopped speaking. Stopped moving. They... time was merciless. They had nothing to eat, and the supplies ran out faster than I expected. One by one, they died, leaving me alone. I heard their final words. Watched their light fade. They couldn't leave—the place was sealed. Some still tried, begging me to let them go. But the seal would not break. With no food and no hope, they died—one after another—leaving behind only silence and empty stares.
The Guardian had heard their whispered curses, seen their eyes filled with agony—but he could do nothing. His seal was absolute.
Some cursed me for locking them in. They looked at me with hatred, blaming me for condemning them to death. But I couldn't take the risk... If I had broken the seal, they too would have been devoured by the dark. And I could only watch. Even though a spark of magic still flickered within me, I could not move—I merged with the tree to protect them. I became their guardian... and their tomb. For centuries, I was alone, seeing no sign of life. I don't know if anyone survived. No one tried to reach me. When I sealed the entrance, I cut myself off from the world... and from hope.
The vision showed the last refugees disappearing into a dark tunnel. The Guardian closing the gate. A rune flaring with light. Then—silence.
At first, I still felt their presence. Magic. Life. But with time, only emptiness remained... and the runes. For centuries, no one touched them. Until you... you touched one of the runes I once created. That allowed me to feel your power—and reach out to you in a dream.
You called me? Alex thought.
No. You awakened me. Your blood remembers. His words came from all around, as if the forest itself was speaking. You are the heir to a power that has been forgotten. A child of this land. You have tasted it. Your blood... your presence reminded me that not all is lost.
Another vision appeared. The Guardian—once an elf with bright eyes and a proud face—kneeling over a fallen companion. Then, loneliness. Time stretching into eternity.
I don't know if any of my kind are still alive. But my time has ended. Opening the seal has consumed most of my power. The magic that binds me to this place is strong, but fading. I don't know how much longer I can remain like this. I've given you everything I could. And now... let me fade into oblivion.
His voice was calm, but still carried the weight of ages past—every word a step toward the end.
But before that happens, I will share with you what remains of what I once held.
Cut the tree, the Guardian said, his voice like a whisper from the past. Let the sap flow. Anyone who drinks even a drop will gain the power to wield magic.
But to you, I wish to pass on the power of my ancestors. Know this: the first use of this power comes with pain. You will need to learn to control it—only then will it become your strength, not your curse. My magic will reveal the secrets of the beast... and awaken it within you. You will have to confront the wild nature that lies deep inside. This power will not spare you. But it will be effective against demons. It can wound them. Destroy them. This is not a magic of mercy—but one that can save your life if you wield it wisely. Are you ready to accept this power... and carry its burden?