Warning

The bright, artificial lights hanging over the rows of check-in counters were so intense that they quickly became a source of fatigue for my eyes. The straight bar LED lights cast a harsh, monotonous glow that seemed to drain the energy from the surroundings. Despite the weariness caused by the lighting, I knew that the wait was worthwhile because my next destination promised a completely different experience.

As I contemplated the hours I had left before departing, I couldn't help but anticipate when I would step into Mysthralis. This place had garnered a remarkable reputation among scholars, and its practitioners held it in the highest regard. I felt privileged to have the opportunity to visit for 30 days, though the limited time-frame – "only 30 days" – suddenly struck me. My thoughts were interrupted when the lady at the check-in counter looked at me with surprise.

"Are you planning to have a vacation, or are you visiting relatives?" she inquired, her gaze fixed on my quill pen with a silver band encircling it, which was attached to the front pocket of my long, dark green coat. Before I could respond, she made an assumption, "Oh, you must be visiting for the conference," her demeanor brightened as she spoke. I glanced at my visa approval, which indeed indicated a similar purpose. "Yes," I replied confidently.

She smiled, saying, "I'm glad to see young faces; I'm tired of meeting those wrinkled, sleep-deprived eyes beneath messy hair," I chuckled hidden inside me while maintaining an emotionless expression.

I seized the opportunity to ask a question of my own, inquiring, "How much time will it take?" However, this time, she didn't utter a word. Instead, she handed me my ticket with punched-out letters indicating the gate number and time. The digits of the time were changing like a countdown, adding to my sense of urgency.

With just an hour remaining, I weakly gathered my luggage and prepared to rush to my gate, only to be dumbfounded to find it right in front of me, just beside the counter. I quickly settled into my original seat with the sound of my luggage crashing into the otherwise empty building.

"I couldn't help but wonder what was so special about this place, it just has mountains and, some elderly individuals who are rather arrogant", I noticed a man who, until that moment appeared out of thin air right behind me. He was talking to himself that's what I thought while he hid his face behind those thick sheets of newspaper.

I resisted the temptation to steal another glance at this peculiar man, but to my surprise, he suddenly jumped into the seat next to me, catching me off guard for a moment. He was roughly my age, and his attire was as intriguing as his behavior. He wore a black, peculiar hat, and his body was draped in a combination of black and white vest and cloak, giving him a distinct, "don't talk to stranger" appearance. His dark brown hair contrasted sharply with his striking golden eyes, which seemed to outshine his otherwise unremarkable face.

"Bonjour," he said with flawless pronunciation, and I couldn't help but cringe. "What brings you to me , the man with the sword?" I said catching him off guard, and his expression quickly shifted to a more serious tone. He swiftly pulled aside the ancient-looking sword dangling from his waist.

"You certainly are observant, but why are you making this mistake?"

"It's not a mistake unless it's unplanned."

"I'm trying to warn you, be a little more grateful."

"Why?"

He fell into a sudden silence, unable to find the right words. He sighed deeply. "If that's your plan, go ahead." He pulled off his hat, revealing equ-spells underneath, then swiftly replaced it on his head.

"But the equation of the spell is wro—" with a puff, he disappeared into thin air.

Before I could fully process the entire situation, I heard my name being called. Perhaps I was making a mistake, but I quickly shrugged off that thought and proceeded towards my gate unaware about my awaiting fate.