Echoes of the Secret Streams

Four winters had passed since Gurzhik's departure. Artemon had even managed to graduate from the academy a year early. With each passing day spent in Ezerion, he increasingly heard himself described as a talented young man. His mastery and awe-inspiring magical abilities painted him as a living legend. His days were spent in the pursuit of knowledge, and his nights in the soft glow of arcane light, diving into ancient tomes to fill the void left in his heart after parting with the friend he kept in the most secluded corner of his soul, though he didn't always show it.

To spend more time with books, he took a job at the library. One evening, while reading the second volume of "Elemental Chaos Manipulation," he muttered to himself, "Ah… It's a pity you're not here right now. You would silently read a book, and I'd ask, 'Do you think it's really possible to master chaos manipulation, or is it just an illusion luring us with its mystery?' You'd probably raise an eyebrow, smile, and delve into the question from different angles, leading me into depths of thought that might remain inaccessible to my ordinary perception..."

He added, "You'd never forgive my idleness. So I'll try my hardest to become a great mage known throughout these lands. Yes, perhaps my plans are too grand… But we only live once… So I will never retreat."

"What are you reading?" interrupted a feminine silhouette.

Artemon looked up to see his classmate, her short figure draped in a black robe, looming over him like a lamp, her blue eyes, as deep as an ocean one could drown in, staring at him. Adjusting her thick, long snow-white hair, she repeated:

"So, what are you reading, Artemon?"

"Um… Sorry, what's your name…" replied Artemon slowly.

"Elaine. My name is Elaine. Don't you remember me? We studied in the same group." she interrupted.

"Sorry, I've been working in the library day and night. No time for idle chatter." Artemon replied.

"Noted," Elaine said softly. "So, got a minute?"

"I'm listening," Artemon replied reluctantly.

Elaine, stepping softly, came closer and sat down lightly, like a feather, opposite him, asking shyly:

"Listen, you're probably the most talented mage in the history of this school. Can I ask how you reached this level?"

"Thanks for the compliment. Lots of hours of practice, nothing more." Artemon said with a slight smile.

"Yeah… You've changed a lot since you started. You used to be a bit more sociable and cheerful…" Elaine whispered.

To which Artemon, adjusting his glasses, firmly replied:

"My powers are growing, Elaine. I'm trying to find answers to questions no one has been able to answer."

"But you've lost something important along the way, Artemon. You've forgotten what makes us human—connections, friendship. You're becoming more and more lonely, lost in your own world," Elaine said with sadness in her voice.

"And what's it to you? What I'm doing is beyond your understanding!" Artemon declared, lifting his head again.

"Artemon, I just want to say you're not alone in this world. There are those who care about you." Elaine said with a hint of sorrow.

"You don't understand," Artemon replied, lowering his gaze back to the page. "I've gained powers that can change the course of history. So, I need to think only about myself."

"You're dissolving into your own world of illusions. You've become a prisoner of your fantasies… I hope the storm that rages inside you will give way to calm," Elaine softly added, slowly rising from the table.

Artemon continued reading silently, ignoring her words. But for a moment, he felt faint notes of anxiety resonating throughout his body.

"Maybe. You're right…" Artemon said languidly before she left.

Elaine, looking at him with understanding, decided to stay. A strange tension suddenly filled the room.

"I need to go," Artemon said suddenly, closing the book. "Forgive me, Elaine. I have important matters to attend to." He stood up abruptly and headed for the exit. The girl watched him go.

Artemon hurried to Merlindor's office. Entering the room, he was hit by the sharp smell of oak and ancient scrolls. Merlindor was rummaging through scrolls, searching for something important. He tossed aside the unwanted ones, causing a mess in the office. Artemon navigated the zigzag path to Merlindor.

"Hello, Master Merlindor," he said, looking at the mage's back.

Merlindor turned and fixed his gaze on Artemon: "Hello, Artemon. Come in. Sorry for the mess."

"It's alright," the young man said shyly.

"So, what brings you here?" Merlindor asked in his kind, low voice.

"I'm feeling some strange flows of magic. I've never felt them before. Do you know what it is?"

"You're sensing the flow of chaos energy that's slowly growing stronger," Merlindor replied.

"Chaos? But we're safe, aren't we?" Artemon asked.

"Yes, usually we're protected by our barriers, set up by Darius many years ago. But this time something's wrong with these flows," Merlindor said, continuing his search.

"Of course," Merlindor exclaimed. "Go to the secret library. You'll find the information you need there. Here's the key. Be quick."

"Alright," Artemon agreed and quickly headed to the place on the third floor near room 307, in an office that seemed eternally closed. Passing through the magical lock set by the first director, he entered the school's sanctum of knowledge, where the atmosphere of forgotten years reigned. Artemon thought, "We've had a hidden library all this time?! Well, no time for that now."

"So, here are the scrolls," Artemon said quietly, noticing the ancient wooden cabinet where the old papers waited.

The young man began sorting through the scrolls. Finding nothing in the first two, he said, "Where is it?.." On the third, Artemon exclaimed, "Ah, here it is!" He began reading the scroll, but at the crucial moment, the text cut off: "The Lord of Chaos…" — this left Artemon stunned.

"No way!" the young man in glasses shouted in frustration.

"I need to read the rest," Artemon added.

Finding nothing in the remaining scrolls, the young man returned to Merlindor. Entering his office, Artemon reported, "I found mentions of the Lord of Chaos, but the information was cut off, Master."

"Well, our situation isn't enviable," Merlindor said somberly, scratching his thick gray beard.

"I need to convene the council. And I'm sending you to the kingdom of Rondon." Handing the young man a note, he added, "Go to this address. Someone there will know what to do."

"The fate of Rondon rests on your shoulders, Artemon Feldrin," Merlindor said, placing his cold hands on Artemon's shoulders.

"I won't let you down. You can count on me," Artemon assured.

Packing for the trip, the young man thought, "Will I see Gurzhik again?.."

Artemon approached the carriage and set off.