The Heaviness of Authority

The battlefield was still. The students huddled together, watching the charred remains of the spell fade away and evaporate into the oppressive air thick with the smell of burnt flesh and the remnant of magic. Derebwan the Dead Rather than a foreboding presence in the land, this beast was dead.

But there was no time to celebrate.

Orthus was several feet away, arms crossed as he looked at the group. His expression was a blank slate, almost bored, but there was a hint of something in his eyes — a flicker of approval, if momentary.

"Well," he started, breaking the silence, "you won." Barely. But you're still at least standing. That counts for something."

The students were too exhausted to cry out, their bodies trembling with fatigue. Leon fir was still nursing the gash on his chest and Hana had fallen to the ground, clutching her hands, which were burned from her own fiery magic. Alina was still conscious but too weak to hold herself upright. Each breath felt as if it took everything out of her.

"You think you've won," Orthus continued, voice sharp, "but what you've done is prove that you hardly stand prepared for what lies ahead. You don't get the luxury of hesitation or mercy with magic. There is a cost you pay every time you invoke it."

Leon frowned, upright despite the pain. "What does that mean, exactly? We survived, didn't we? Isn't that enough?"

Orthus glanced at him, his eyes unmoving. "Survival? Yes. But what about the cost? Every spell, every surge of magic has a price to pay. You saw it for yourself. That monster — how many of you already feel the drain of your magic? How long until you can hardly lift a finger, let alone fight?" He paused, allowing the market power of his words to sink in. "That's the cost of power. A price that will rise only as you get stronger."

The group remained silent. Leon started to say something but then closed his mouth at the sight of the others. He didn't know if they were prepared to learn more of the reality Orthus was presenting. They were hardly hanging on as it was.

Alina, struggling to rise, forces out the words, "So… we can't just keep using magic like this?" Her voice quavered with uncertainty. "How are we supposed to keep going if it costs us this times every time?"

Orthus approached her, his eyes narrowing some. "You'll learn to manage it. Magic is not this, solid, completely controllable — it can be refined, but that doesn't change the toll it takes. Every watt of power you wield." Your body, yourself, your very essence will punish for every single grain of it. He peered at the others, his eyes intent. "And don't feel that's the worst in it."

He paused, allowing his words to fill the space around him, a dense mist. "Every time you call upon magic, the world itself becomes heavy upon you. You may find you're increasingly unable to control it, and if you push too far, too fast…" His words faded, and for the briefest instant, there was something almost mournful in his expression. "You'll be consumed by it."

Leon balled his hands into fists as the bravado he had seemed to fade. "So, what do we do? Sit here and wait to die?"

Orthus peered at him, his gaze placid. "No. You adapt. You test yourself, yes — but you learn your limits. True control only comes once you understand the cost of your power. But there's one thing you should never forget…"

All of his students were now watching him, fear and curiosity mingling in their eyes.

"Magic isn't a gift. It's a curse," Orthus said, his voice deep. "And the more you try to manage it, the more you'll come to terms with the price you pay will never look the same. It will change you. It will shape you. And at other times it will take all of you, without a single care."

A cold shiver ran down Hana's spine, but she stood up, steeled. "And then we'll learn to live with it." We'll know how to handle it."

Orthus turned to her, a flicker of approval registering on his face. "Perhaps. But take this lesson to heart. Once you start down this road, there's no return. Power can be a good thing, but when it is turned against you …" He paused, and his eyes were lost for a moment. Then he turned his attention back to the group. "It's about time you learned that lesson."

He saw the sky above him and raised his palm, a smaller, collected for, stepped within, again. "Your next task awaits. But before you leave, understand this—your ability to adapt and control your magic will determine your survival. You will encounter stronger enemies, bigger challenges and far more deadly consequences if you are not careful,"

Not waiting for the reply, he gestured at the portal. "Step through. And keep in mind — what you learn now could keep you alive."

Unwillingly, the students moved to stand before the portal, one by one. Alina paused to glance back at Orthus before passing through. Leon trailed him, still wincing from his wounds but resolute. The last to enter, Hana paused momentarily to give Orthus one final look before stepping into the whirling light.

As soon as they stepped through the door, they entered another world. Rolling inverse towards a barren desert of fissured earth, the horizon dry as a coughing corpse, the sky metallic and pierced by sun, the warm drops of sweat gluing his face to the back of his neck, the weight of death so clear.

There was something wrong about this place, something oppressive. The air was thick, and there was a faint buzzing noise in the distance, making it difficult to breathe. They instinctively moved into tighter circles around each other, their steps faltering and searching.

And yet, from the horizon, they saw it.

A silhouette, tall and darklike, having stilled itself, having waited.

For the first time since they had arrived, the students had a genuine sense of dread.