Chapter 53 – First Side Effects of Magic

"Power is never free. Every secret stolen from the forbidden demands its tribute."

The silent scream echoed through his skull.

Kaelian's eyes snapped open. He gasped for breath, drenched in sweat despite the biting cold that haunted his chamber. The stone walls, once reassuring in their austere silence, now felt like they were closing in. His gaze dropped to his trembling hands.

Again.

The third night in a row.

The third dream where a voice whispered his name—not Kaelian, but another. A name he didn't know. Or had forgotten. Or perhaps... had once been his.

"You'll break," Elgorn had warned, days earlier, after catching him performing a spell even the Forbidden Archives had labeled 'cursed, but instructive'.

Kaelian sat up slowly, groaning as pain lanced through the base of his skull. Blood magic, for all its terrifying beauty and raw power, was leaving behind something… tainted. Residual shadows. Whispers that slithered across his consciousness, always murmuring, always there.

He staggered toward the small table by his bed. The black grimoire waited there—ancient, bound in flesh-like leather, pulsing faintly with a violet glow. Chapter 33 had been the start. Since then, he had studied, learned, experimented.

Now, he was paying the price.

**

Later That Morning – Royal Academy, Spell Simulation Hall

"Exercise over!" barked the Master-at-Arms, his voice strained with unease. "Kaelian, you exceeded the authorized power threshold—again!"

Gasps filled the training hall. The obsidian training dummy, enchanted to withstand infernal fire, now lay in a heap of molten slag. Smoke rose. No one dared speak.

Except Théor.

"Impressive," he sneered. "Planning to burn down the entire palace, or just proving you've lost control?"

Kaelian said nothing, but the glance he gave Théor was sharp, unreadable.

The fear was spreading.

He'd seen the looks. Heard the murmurs.

He's not one of us anymore...

He made a pact... He sold his soul...

It wasn't true. Not yet.

But the line between truth and horror was growing dangerously thin.

**

Deep Below – The Forbidden Study Chambers

Lyssa held the vial between her gloved fingers, peering into the half-filled container of shimmering blue liquid.

"Your blood is unstable," she said softly. "The ethereal filaments break down far too quickly."

"I'm still in control," Kaelian answered.

His voice was firm. His heart... less so.

Lyssa looked at him—not with anger, but with fear.

"This book is changing you. I can see it in your eyes, Kael. You mutter in a language I've never heard before. A language that doesn't exist."

He turned away.

She was right. The shadows spoke now, even in daylight. Whispers curled through cracks in his vision. Sometimes, his spells cast themselves—unbidden, like reflexes from a darker self.

"It's not a curse," he murmured. "It's an evolution."

Lyssa stepped back, wounded by his words.

"An evolution that costs your humanity?"

He wanted to argue—but a violent cough seized him. He turned away, blood splattering into his hand.

Black. Oily. Wrong.

He hid it quickly.

**

The Next Day – Archmage Elgorn's Study

Elgorn was not the kindly old master of legends. He was sharp, manipulative, and perhaps more dangerous than the grimoire itself.

"You think you're mastering blood magic?" he said, closing a tome that radiated dread. "You've barely scratched the surface."

Kaelian raised an eyebrow.

"Nightmares. Voices. The feeling that my body's... dissolving. That's 'normal'?"

Elgorn didn't blink.

"Completely. You've crossed the boundary few dare approach. Most who do... don't return. Or don't return sane."

A heavy silence settled.

"But," the Archmage continued, "you're a genius. That's why I tolerate your recklessness. Only geniuses—or madmen—survive blood magic. Sometimes both."

Kaelian folded his arms.

"And which are you, Master? Genius or madman?"

Elgorn's smirk gave no answer.

Instead, he leaned forward, voice low.

"You need to stabilize the corruption. Anchor it. Through a ritual, an artifact, or... a sacrifice."

Kaelian frowned.

"A sacrifice?"

"Something vital. Someone deeply bonded to you."

The word struck like lightning.

Lyssa.

**

Two Days Later – The Forbidden Garden

Kaelian walked alone beneath the weeping trees. Magical leaves whispered forgotten truths to the wind.

He thought. Too much.

He knew he had already stepped over several lines. And more waited ahead.

But the power... it had changed him. Sharpened his thoughts. His strategies had become flawless. His reflexes, supernatural. His memory, perfect.

And yet…

His dreams were twisted. His instincts, darker. He had once smiled—actually smiled—at the sight of a bleeding opponent. Worse, he had looked at Lyssa one night and wondered...

Would her soul be enough to bind the corruption?

He clenched his fists.

No. Not her.

But soon, he knew, he would have to choose.

**

The Chamber of Grand Echoes – Semester Trial

It was a trap.

Kaelian realized it the moment the stone doors shut behind them. A group test. An ancient artifact. Magical surveillance. And Théor.

Everything screamed setup.

Then it began to spiral.

The artifact pulsed erratically. The containment runes flared, cracked. A surge of temporal magic rippled outward.

Chaos.

"He did it!" Théor screamed. "He sabotaged it! He's out of control!"

Eyes turned. Hands reached for containment spells.

Too late.

The artifact detonated—in a flash of blinding black light.

**

Where Am I?

He floated.

No floor. No sky. Just a plane of shifting shadows and soft, ghostly light.

Thousands of glowing symbols surrounded him, some spinning, some whispering truths he couldn't grasp.

And then, his voice—his own, yet not—spoke:

You've gone too far. You must pay.

"I only took what the world denied me!" he shouted.

But what price are you willing to pay?

A hand, icy and invisible, touched the back of his neck.

In an instant, visions crashed upon him:

His past—abandoned, betrayed, brilliant.

His present—the power, the cost, the throne.

The Queen. Théor.

Lyssa.

And beyond all that...

A door.

Ancient. Breathing. Waiting.

He reached for it.

The world collapsed.

**

Return – Grand Echo Chamber

He crashed to the floor, gasping, coughing. Dark blood splattered stone tiles.

Around him—unconscious students. The artifact, gone. Magic residue hung in the air like smoke after a storm.

The professors stood frozen.

Not one dared move.

Théor stepped back, pale.

"He's not... human..."

Kaelian looked up slowly.

His irises shimmered—deep crimson, flickering like coals.

"No," he said, voice calm and steady. "I'm more alive than I've ever been."

**

Chapter End

In the shadowed hallway, cloaked in magical concealment, a man watched Kaelian stagger from the ruined chamber.

He smiled.

Cold. Knowing.

"He's ready," the figure whispered.

And then, with a swirl of voidlight, he vanished.

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