Grimoire

The darkness around Logan seemed alive, pulsing with an ancient, wild energy. The book floated before him, its pages emitting a golden glow reminiscent of a wolf's eyes in the gloom. It was the only source of light in that absolute void, like a solitary star in an endless sky.

A female voice, deep and melodious, echoed in the darkness. It wasn't threatening, but carried an undeniable authority, like the distant howl of an alpha calling its pack. "Welcome, young bearer. I am Thorne Shadowheart, Master of Shadows and bearer of Fenrir during the Age of Ashes."

The words flowed from the shadows and materialized on the grimoire's pages in elegant, fluid script, as if an invisible hand were writing them in golden ink.

Logan felt a shiver run down his spine. The Age of Ashes was a mythical period, mentioned only in the oldest legends—a time of chaos after the near-release of the First Beast, when the world stood on the brink of destruction.

"How… how is this possible?" he asked, his voice sounding strangely muffled in the void. "You lived over a thousand years ago."

A soft laugh echoed around him, like the tinkling of ice crystals. "Time is an illusion for those connected to the Arcane Beasts, young Logan. Part of my essence, my memories and knowledge, were preserved in this grimoire through an ancient ritual. I am not truly Thorne, merely an echo of who she was."

The page turned by itself, revealing the silhouette of a tall, slender woman, with long, wild hair that seemed made of living shadows. Her eyes, golden like Logan's, shone with a primordial power.

"This grimoire contains the legacy I chose to leave for future bearers of Fenrir. Five abilities and five magics that, together, allow one to draw out the true potential of their connection with the Arcane Beast."

Logan watched, fascinated, as more pages filled with complex texts and diagrams.

"The grimoire will not reveal all its contents at once. Each ability and magic will be unlocked only when you demonstrate mastery over the previous one. Tests have been prepared to ensure you are worthy of each secret."

"Tests?" Logan asked, a mixture of apprehension and excitement in his voice. "What kind of tests?"

The silhouette of Thorne on the pages seemed to smile. "Nothing beyond what you can handle, young bearer. The first test was already completed when you managed to activate the grimoire. Your connection with Fenrir is strong enough to begin the journey."

The pages shone more intensely, and two distinct sections began to form—one titled 'First Magic' and the other 'First Ability'. "Allow me to present the first secrets I will share with you."

In the magic section, complex arcane symbols formed a circle, in the center of which appeared the name: —Jaws of Fenrir. "This magic allows you to conjure a manifestation of Fenrir's legendary jaws—a spectral construct of pure energy that can trap or crush opponents. In its most basic form, the jaws appear as a semi-transparent structure of dark energy. With practice, they become more solid and powerful, capable even of breaking magical barriers."

On the opposite page, under the title 'First Ability,' another set of symbols formed, surrounding the name: —Shadow Soul. "This ability represents the true essence of our connection with Fenrir—the capacity to become one with the shadows. By channeling it, you can transform your physical body into pure shadow for a brief period, becoming immune to physical damage. In this state, you can pass through solid objects and move with supernatural speed. However, remember: while you are shadow, you will be extremely vulnerable to light magic."

Logan stared at the pages with fascination, absorbing every word, every diagram. It was as if a new world of possibilities was opening before him. "This is… incredible," he murmured. "How can I start learning?"

"Words and diagrams are only the beginning of knowledge. Allow me to show you the true power of these techniques."

The grimoire shone brightly, and suddenly Logan was no longer in the void. He was observing a scene, as if it were a vivid memory projected around him.

An ancient forest, enormous trees whose tops were lost in darkness. The full moon bathed the clearing in silver light. In the center stood Thorne Shadowheart, exactly as in the grimoire's illustration. She was surrounded by six warriors wearing black armor bearing the symbol of a serpent devouring its own tail—the emblem of the Arcane Hunters of that era.

"Surrender, bearer," said one of the warriors, advancing with a spear that glowed with containment runes. "Your power belongs to the Empire now."

Thorne smiled, a predatory smile that didn't reach her golden eyes. "You don't learn, do you?" Her voice was calm, almost bored. "How many of you must die before you understand that Fenrir cannot be chained?"

She raised her hand in a fluid gesture, and her eyes shone with supernatural intensity. "" The air above the Hunters seemed to rip apart, revealing a pair of enormous spectral jaws, made of dark energy with golden veins. The jaws clamped down on three of the warriors before they could react, crushing their armor as if it were made of paper. When they opened again, nothing remained but twisted metal fragments.

The other Hunters attacked together, casting containment spells that formed chains around Thorne. She didn't attempt to dodge. "" Her body dissolved into shadows, and the chains passed through her without effect. Like black smoke, she slid across the forest floor, reappearing behind the Hunters. When her body solidified again, her hands were already at their throats.

The scene dissolved, and Logan was once again before the floating grimoire. "Combat is only one of the many applications of our gifts," Thorne's voice continued. "Most bearers limit their thinking to battles and destruction. But true mastery comes from understanding the versatility of our powers."

Another memory formed around Logan. This time, Thorne was in a deep cave, before a wall of solid rock. Behind her, a small child cried, trapped under rubble from what looked like a cave-in. "Hold on, little one," Thorne said gently. "I'll get you out of there." She could have used brute force to remove the rocks, but that risked causing another collapse. Instead, she raised her hands and murmured: "" The spectral jaws appeared, but this time smaller, more precise. With surprising delicacy, they gripped the larger rocks, carefully lifting them to free the child without disturbing the rest of the unstable structure.

The scene changed again. Thorne stood atop a mountain, observing a distant valley where enemy troops marched towards an unprotected village. "" Transforming into shadow, she slid down the mountainside at impossible speed, covering in minutes a distance that would normally take hours to travel. Arriving at the village before the invaders, she had time to organize the evacuation of the residents, saving hundreds of innocent lives.

The memory dissolved, and Logan was once again in the void with the grimoire. "Do you see now? Our abilities are not just weapons, but tools. Not just to destroy, but to protect, save, build. True mastery comes from understanding all the possibilities."

Logan nodded slowly, feeling ashamed of his limited perspective. "I… never thought of it that way," he admitted. "Since discovering my connection with Fenrir, I only thought about how it could make me stronger, how I could fight better." He thought of Kael, the kidnapping, the ritual that had nearly killed him. The emotional scar from those events was still fresh. "After what happened with the Arcane Hunters, all I wanted was enough power to protect myself and those I love. I never considered… other possibilities."

"Fear is understandable, young Logan. I too knew the terror of the Hunters. But remember: the power we share with Fenrir is not inherently destructive or protective. It is like fire—it can warm or burn, depending on how it is used."

Logan felt a strange sense of calm spread through him, as if Thorne's words touched something deep within his being. "How do I begin practicing?" he asked, eager to start his journey with this new knowledge.

"The diagrams in the grimoire will show the mana channeling points and necessary gestures. Begin with simple exercises, in a safe environment. The magic requires precision in directing mana; the ability requires surrender and trust. Both demand respect for the power they manipulate."

Thorne's voice began to grow more distant, as if she were moving away. "Our time is up, young bearer. Return to the grimoire when you have mastered these first techniques, and new doors will open for you. Remember: you are never truly alone. The spirit of Fenrir lives in you, as do the echoes of all the bearers who came before."

The grimoire's glow began to dim, and Logan felt himself being pulled back to reality.

"One last thing," Thorne's voice was now just a whisper. "Trust your instincts, but choose your allies carefully. Not all who smile are friends, nor all who snarl are enemies."

Logan blinked, and suddenly he was back in his room in the Academy dormitory. The grimoire—Umbra Vinculum—was closed in his hands, seemingly ordinary, except for the faint warmth emanating from its leather cover. He looked out the window and was shocked to see the sun had set. Stars shone in the night sky, and the lights of the other Academy buildings twinkled in the darkness.

"Impossible," he murmured, looking at the clock on the wall. Nearly five hours had passed since he first opened the grimoire. To him, it had seemed like only minutes.

His stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him he hadn't eaten since lunch. And then he remembered—he had arranged to meet Blake and Kassia for dinner!

Carefully placing the grimoire in his bag, Logan hurried out of the room. As he ran through the corridors towards the dining hall, his mind buzzed with everything he had learned.

The spectral jaws of Fenrir… the transformation into pure shadow… possibilities he had never imagined were now within his grasp. Part of him couldn't wait to start practicing, to feel that power flowing through his body.

But Thorne's final words echoed in his mind, a veiled warning he couldn't ignore. "Trust your instincts, but choose your allies carefully."

In a place like Aldaria, where students from rival kingdoms studied side-by-side, where secrets and hidden agendas could hide behind friendly smiles, that advice could prove more valuable than any magic.

Logan slowed his pace as he approached the dining hall, organizing his thoughts. He decided he would tell Blake and Kassia about the grimoire—they were the only ones he trusted completely. Together, they could explore this new path opening before him.

Logan pushed open the dining hall doors, eager to find his friends and begin the next chapter of his journey.