Slight nausea overcame Drake as his avatar materialized. The rapid transition from his Lobby to the sunny central square forced him to squint. After a few seconds, he could finally face the bright midday light. A moment later, however, a mixture of dread and anxiety overcame him as he became aware of the sea of eyes pinpointed at him. No, it wasn’t just him. Countless villagers encircled the fountain where he and other players had appeared. His stomach felt like lead and his face seemed to be on fire.

Further in front of him a path formed as the surrounding crowd parted to make way for a man dressed in simple, priestly robes. "Strangers!" he yelled, raising both his arms, a thin, toothy smile stretched across his face. “It is with the utmost pleasure that I welcome you all here within Bord, our humble home! You all shall want for naught as we will make sure to take care of you properly!”

The man came closer and Drake stepped back, compelled by the madness he saw in the priest’s eyes. They seemed glazed over, like two fidgeting orbs, darting back and forth between the players standing in front of him. His stomach sank further as others, wearing similar garbs, walked out into the small plaza.

“Come now, brothers and sisters,” said the priest, his voice almost shaking as he spoke, “escort our dear guests to the church, so that we may begin the festivities!”

With those words, Drake’s daze had vanished. He didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to have his gut instinct proven right. Glancing around, he spotted an alleyway behind an area where the crowd seemed thinnest.

And as one of the priest’s followers approached, he turned and darted towards the alley. He sidestepped a couple of startled villagers and managed to slip into the shadows, a confused plea trailing behind him.

The gray, stone buildings zipped by, and only after making sure that no one had followed him did Drake finally stop. His lungs burned, but he quickly got his breathing under control. ‘What the actual hell was that…?

As he looked back, still unsure whether someone had managed to tail him, a chime echoed inside his head, causing him to tense up.

Seeing Dan’s ID, he let out a sigh of relief. He focused on the prompt’s ‘yes’ option, forgetting to even roll his eyes at his friend’s naming sense.

“Hey dude…”

“And you, on the other hand, somehow managed to find something even lamer than your last nickname.”

“You mean besides the freaky cultists?”

“Yeah… I ran away the moment I could feel my legs. But it’s less lurking and more of a full-blown… ‘come my faithful few. Let us all rejoice in the eternal madness of Cthulhu’ sort of deal.”

Drake sat down on the paved road and leaned back against the tall building next to him. Given the warm, stuffy atmosphere, he relished in the sensation of the wall’s cold surface. “Still,” he said, gazing at the azure sky above him, “I didn’t expect it to look and feel… this real.”

“If I’m to trust the crazy priest, then it’s some sort of frontier town called Bord.”

“Hard pass on the church…”

With the chat window gone, Drake became aware of a few semitransparent bars and icons floating in the corner of his view. He focused on each in turn. ‘Huh, so this is the Head-Up Display. And I’ve got resource bars for my Health, Mana, and Stamina. He recognized the next one as his inventory, where his few possessions awaited him, neatly organized into categories.

On his inventory’s side, displayed with a stylized, golden font, he saw a zero. ‘So, I’m broke. What else? Consumables… Some crackers and a water canteen. Definitely below whatever counts as the poverty line here…’ He sighed and switched to the tab labeled Miscellaneous. ‘And this must be that guide Aida mentioned. Okay. Notifications… always on. System Log, enabled. What else? Chat settings, basic commands, currency… Here we go: Game Settings.’

As he went through the various options, nothing really stood out. That is, until he got to the last entry in the Settings menu. ‘A pain gauge…? <In order to preserve a certain level of realism, players cannot completely disable their sensation of pain. However, they can lower the intensity down to 15% of what they would normally feel>. Well… 15% it is then.’

A couple of minutes later, he had finished skimming through the rest of the guide. He dismissed his interface and stared back at the alley. Albeit faint, he could still hear the clamor coming from the central square. ‘I don’t even want to think about what’s in the capital…’ He shuddered and turned away, walking down the uneven cobblestone path. ‘Okay… so the town guards.’

“Please, stop…”

As he turned the corner, a weak whimper brought him to a standstill, shattering his train of thought. Ahead of him, flanked by two men, stood the slumped figure of a boy, clutching his stomach. Tears streamed down his face as another whimper escaped him.

The tallest of the two—a young, blond haired man—stepped closer, causing the boy to flinch. “This would be a whole lot easier if you just talked, kid…”

“Hank, let’s just leave,” said the plump man closest to Drake, unable to face Hank directly, or the boy. “He’s just a kid. I really don’t think he knows anything…”

“He’s an initiate, he has to know something. Talk!” yelled Hank, raising his foot. “Talk I said!”

Drake’s blood boiled. Before he knew it, he rammed into the one closest to him, shoving him aside, and then planted his foot forward as his fist shot up. Sharp pain jolted through his hand the instant he made contact with the blonde man’s chin. Positioned between the boy and the two sprawled on the road in front of him, Hank’s gaze met his and Drake could almost see the terror in his eyes.

“You… you’re one of them!” he said, crawling away and raising a trembling finger. “Stay away from us!” Knees shaking, the two got up and backed away slowly, before breaking into a sprint.

Drake sighed and turned around, color finally returning to his knuckles. He reached out towards the boy and took his hand, helping him up. “You okay?” he asked, brushing aside the child’s raven hair.

“Yeah… thanks, mister.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. I got the drop on them, but it’ll be bad if they come back. Lead the way.”

The boy nodded and took Drake by the hand. They emerged onto one of Bord’s main roads, passing by small shops as they walked in silence. Few people roamed the street. Fewer still paid them any heed, the town’s collective attention seemingly caught up in the players’ arrival.

“I’m Drake, by the way.”

“Liam…”

“Okay, Liam. If you don’t mind me asking, what was all that about?”

The boy hesitated for a moment, his pace slowing. “They wanted to know more about… you. The Strangers. Everyone’s worried. Except for the Conclave. They’ve… been preparing for this.”

Drake inspected the grey robes that Liam wore. Nothing like those of the crazed priest. “You mean those guys in the square?”

“Yeah.”

“Preparing how?”

“I don’t know… But they always talked about The Arrival.” The boy looked up to him, as if sizing him up. “There’s this prophecy that says that when the midday sun darkens, on the eve of Harvest Day, Strangers would appear. And they’d bring about great change.”

“Great change?”

The boy shook his head and then picked up the pace, dragging him to a fruit stand to the side.

“Hey, what are we…”

A fugitive finger over Liam’s lips stopped him. He glanced around and saw others make way for a small group. The four of them, dwarves decked from head to toe in heavy plate armor, scanned the crowd as they trudged passed. Feeling the boy’s grip tighten, he turned and saw him handing a small coin to the lady running the stand, in exchange for something resembling a purple apple.

With the dwarves no longer in sight, they moved on as Liam handed him the apple. Turning it on all sides, he shrugged and bit into it. He stopped midbite as juices spilled from the not-an-apple’s hollow center, staining his gray shirt. ‘Strawberry?’

“I don’t know if I can answer most of your questions. But I’m sure someone in the Mages’ Guild might be able to help.”

A gentle chime rang as a small semi-transparent window appeared in front of him. ‘Seems like I’ve stumbled onto something.’

And as Drake accepted the quest, Liam stopped in front of a large, metal gate.

Despite its size, it easily gave way to the boy’s touch. Their footsteps echoed as they approached the two-story building looming over the paved courtyard. Inside, light flooded the spacious hallway through windows almost as high as the ceiling. Under the scrutiny of a couple of young men, the two climbed up a flight of stairs and entered a small room. Inside, an elderly man awaited them, sitting behind a simple desk.

The man straightened his back and adjusted his glasses, disturbing a long lock of his grizzled hair. “Hello, Liam. I trust you’re alright?”

“Yes, sir. This is Drake. He’s… one of the Strangers from the town square. He saved me from two men when I was on my way back.”

“Oh, I see, I see. Well then, Liam, why don’t you go downstairs and grab a bite to eat. You have more than earned it.” The boy nodded and then looked at Drake. He smiled and left, closing the door behind him. “For rescuing my initiate, you have my sincere gratitude. My name is Arthurus Cain, but you can call me Arthur. Now, would you please take a seat so that we may talk?”

Drake pulled the chair in front of him and sat down, all the while trying to get a read on Arthur. “We can, sure. But, for starters, mind telling me why the hell were there two grown men trying to beat information out of a kid?”

The old man sighed, crossing his arms on the desk in front of him. “Times are changing, and change brings about unease. And while I cannot forgive those men, I also cannot deny the fact that the same question has me worried. So, I sent the boy to keep an eye on things.”

“If you knew that could happen and you still sent that kid, I’m sorry old man, but you’re not much better than those two lowlifes…”

“I knew the risks, of course,” he said, leaning forward, “but had I gone myself, I would have only inflamed tensions further. The Conclave’s influence is strong, and they do not view us in a favorable light.”

“Liam mentioned them as well. By the Conclave, you mean those cultists that basically had us surrounded?”

“The very same.” Arthur paused, staring intently at him. “Let me make one thing clear, Drake. I am more than willing to provide you with whatever aid you might require, and I am already in your debt for helping Liam. But before we proceed any further, I would like you to clarify a few things for me. Are we in agreement?”

He nodded, trying to ignore the anger still bubbling inside.

“Splendid. Now, first and foremost: could you tell me who you are, and where you come from?”

“Not exactly the easiest question to answer, but here goes. I and the others you call Strangers, are people from another world. And we’re able to cross into Enoa with the help of some technological devices. It’s kind of like… entering a dream.”

“I see,” he said, bringing his hands up, beneath his chin. “But what brings you here? What is it you seek to accomplish?”

“That’s… an even tougher one. I guess most came here to have fun. To get away from their worries. But as far as I’m concerned, I… I came here with a friend. We got separated, but we’ll meet up eventually.”

“So, you came here for the sake of your friend?”

“I guess that’s why I agreed to it in the first place. But I don’t know if it’s just that. I just feel… tired,” he said, forcing out the final word. Drake sighed and lowered his eyes, staring at the old floorboards. “Our world’s pretty different compared to this place. It’s filled with great things, but it has its own problems. I’m tired of walking down empty streets. I’m tired of not doing anything and nothing ever changing. And I’m tired… of feeling like I don’t belong.”

A sudden touch on his shoulder made him flinch. He raised his head to meet Arthur’s kindly gaze. In the dim light of his cramped, little office, the old man probably came across as shorter than he actually was. But in that moment, to Drake he seemed like a giant, extending a hand to a weary traveler.

“Please, come with me.”

They left the room, with Arthur leading him through a tidy basement. The two soon reached a tall pair of doors. Beyond them, a large and circular flight of stairs came into view, with wooden catwalks jutting out in each and every direction. Massive shelves, lined with thousands upon thousands of books made up the walls of the gargantuan underground chamber.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” chuckled Arthur as he saw Drake’s jaw drop. “It’s the second largest library in all of Xeladia.”

“Second largest…?”

“Well, yes. The branch master has amassed quite the collection during his years of travel. However, the Hall of Lecture within our Guild’s central headquarters does outclass it. And I would like for you to one day get to see it. What do you say, Drake? Would you like to join the Mages Guild?”

Still reeling, he snapped his head towards the old man. “Are you serious?” An equally gentle chime accompanied Arthur’s nod, as a small semi-transparent window appeared before him.

“Gladly!” he said, grinning from ear to ear as he accepted the invitation.

‘This isn’t what Dan and I had in mind, but I’d be insane to pass this up.’ He quickly returned his gaze to the old mage. “Also, I appreciate the tour, but why are we here?”

“On the off chance you accepted, I thought it prudent to get your training underway. This section should be of great use to you as a novice magic user,” he said while walking to a nearby shelf. Out of the myriad of books, Arthur grabbed a heavy tome, bound in dark leather and offered it to his newest pupil. “I’d recommend you start with this.”

Smooth to the touch, Drake parted the old leather cover to reveal the first page. ‘Huh… English. The Guiding Principles of Mana Manipulation.’ Setting it aside, he turned to face the mage.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just a bit surprised that I can read it. But more importantly, I think we should go over what Strangers can do…”

 

 

The window reflected Arthur's countenance as he peered outside, taking note of the town’s new arrivals. The dying rays of sunlight streaked the evening sky a deep, vivid amber.

His voice reverberated quietly within the cramped room, illuminated by the blue glow of the gemstone he held. “This is beyond anything we could have anticipated, master Roy.”

Roy’s voice rang clearly within his mind, mirrored by the pulsating light of the link sphere. “I’ll say… delayed resurrection, accelerated growth and the ability to travel between worlds almost at will. And you’re sure that guy isn’t making this stuff up?”

“He did not strike me as such a person. All the less likely, if you consider how much he has to gain by helping us.” He sighed as Drake’s words came to mind again. ‘And I’m tired… of feeling like I don’t belong.’

“I’ll take your word for it, Arthur. What about the Conclave? Any updates?”

“As expected, they have made efforts to recruit as many of the Strangers as they could, but as of now, they have not made any direct moves.”

“I see. Reach out the moment anything changes. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.”

“Of course, master.”

 

 

Drake gently closed the tome in front of him and took some crackers out of his inventory. He then brought up his HUD and sent his friend a message. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

“We?”

“Because you know I’m such a people person, right?”

“We’ll see… Anyway, guess who just joined the Mages Guild?”

“I haven’t actually thought that much ahead, to be honest. But that does sound like an idea.”

“Yup.”

And with that Drake dismissed the chat window, returning his attention to the book in front of him. ‘Now, where was I?

'Mana is an integral part of our world - the driving force behind every magical spell and ritual. All living beings possess an innate magical reservoir. To a certain degree, even the air is permeated by this mystical energy. By tapping into this reservoir, one is able to cast spells of varying degrees of potency, limited only by the amount of mana available to the caster.

However, nowadays most are oblivious to the possibility of harnessing their surrounding's mana as a means of augmenting or replenishing their own. As ancient mages evolved into their modern-day counterparts, the standard spell casting practices have changed as well, their attention directed only inwards. But the sorcerers of old could freely choose the amount of mana they wished to infuse into their spells. And they could even replenish their supply of magical power by using that which is already readily available in nature. All of this and more begins with the simple to understand, yet deceptively complex ability of attuning to the natural flow of mana.

To do this, one must first grow accustomed to the very feeling of mana, both that which is present inside and outside of us.'

A shallow breath escaped him as he closed his eyes, trading the sight of the sprawling bookshelves with that of total darkness. Initially, the steady beat of his heart dominated his awareness. He soon shifted his attention to the almost imperceptible draft and the faint smell of paper it carried with it. A familiar sense of tranquility washed over him; his mind now focused only on conjuring the image of miniscule particles floating all around him. They swirled around in ordered chaos, his skin tingling as they collided with him and one another. He soon felt the same sensation spring forth from deep within the pit of his stomach.

It was in this position that Arthur found him the following morning. The old man approached slowly, taking note of the rhythmic pulses of energy emanating from his newest initiate.

Drake opened his eyes, gawking at the smiling mage in front of him and completely ignoring the system alerts he had gotten. “Arthur, just how much mana do you have?” he asked, rubbing his eyelids. “You were glowing as if you were on fire!”

“Good morning to you too. I see you have had a most productive night. Splendid!”

“Wait, it’s already morning?”

 

 

“So, how's the training going?” asked Dan as he reached for another slice of pizza.

“Well, I got a couple of skills, but I logged out before I could check them out. And finding some info on those sycophants is right next on my list after that.”

“The Conclave?”

“Yup. Got a quest, so I dug up a book on them. I only read a couple of pages, but they’re supposedly a group trying to restore the human kingdom to its former glory. No matter the methods.”

Dan chuckled. “Former glory? The place seemed prosperous enough to me. With armored knights and merchants crawling all over the place. And the houses look as if they popped straight out of some fairytale.”

“Yeah, nothing of the sort where I landed. It’s a quaint sort of rural town. I only saw some dwarfs patrolling one of the main streets,” said Ryan, laying down his plate. “But, dude, you should’ve seen these two assholes… they attacked a kid. Trying to get him to talk about us players.”

“Shit… that’s messed up. Is he okay at least?”

“Yeah, I tackled one guy to the ground and knocked the other to the ground. When they looked up and realized what happened, they freaked out and left. The kid then led me to the Mages Guild. He also said that the Conclave’s convinced we’re the key to their plans.”

“Well, no wonder they were trying to butter up to every player in sight.”

“Yeah. All this seems like the calm before the storm.” Ryan got up from the extended armchair and began to stretch in place. “Ominous shit aside, you might want to consider joining me on my morning runs. We can’t have you glued to the couch 24/7.”

“Don’t you worry about me, dude. I’m not some clueless no-lifer.”

“I saw another one get picked up today near Park Ave. A woman. So, how about we whip you into shape, just to be on the safe side?”

 

 

Church bells rang as Drake woke up inside his new room on the Guild’s second floor. The simple hay mattress provided surprising support and it took him a few seconds to notice the notification that had popped up.

‘At least this does make it worthwhile to occasionally take breaks, I guess.’ This also reminded him of the alerts he had yet to inspect. A moment later, Drake brought up his System Log, where three unread entries awaited.

‘Not bad. Although that second skill seems a bit dicey.’ Besides these new abilities, he also had one other notification he hadn’t yet seen.

‘Huh, so it’s also possible to gain stats outside leveling.’

He got up and left his quarters, heading straight for Arthur’s office. Once in front of the mage’s office, the door opened just as he had raised his hand.

“Ah, Drake. Perfect timing,” he said, handing him a transparent crystal sphere. “Hold onto that and follow me.”

They walked down and passed by several players waiting patiently in the Guild’s great hall, before exiting into a spacious garden behind the main building.

“New recruits?” Drake asked, the moment they weren’t within earshot anymore.

“Indeed. There were more, but we rejected those that had been seen together with known Conclave members. And those with equipment beyond what you would normally expect them to acquire within a single day.”

They eventually arrived at a circular arena made of finely cut stone blocks. Stopping near its center, Arthur beckoned him to do the same.

“Alright, Drake. You have successfully attuned yourself to your own mana pool. And, somehow, you have even managed to harness the mana outside your own body, a technique that ordinarily takes decades to master. No doubt, your particular constitution as a Stranger has aided you. But I doubt that that alone explains the proficiency with which you have picked up these things.

“But getting back on track, beyond the usual incantations and rituals, Xelian spell casting is a very… visual matter. A matter in which strong emotions can aid or hinder you, depending on how well you can control them.”

“I see,” said Drake, thinking back to yesterday when he had begun to meditate. “Makes sense, I guess. But what does that have to do with this?” he asked, holding up the crystal sphere that Arthur had given him.

“That,” said the mage, raising his hand as a small blue flame flickered to life within his palm, “is an initiate’s Spellstone. Your next task is to learn how to materialize your mana outside of your body. To do so, concentrate and visualize your mana flowing into the stone.”

Drake nodded and closed his eyes, focusing on the power he had felt inside of him. Steadying his heartbeat, he pictured his mana flowing freely into the stone.

“Excellent!”

A faint glow, dancing within the confines of the spell stone, greeted him as he opened his eyes. “What now?” he asked, smiling as he focused on maintaining the flow.

“Try it without the stone. Only this time, visualize feeding the flame itself.”

Handing the transparent sphere back, Drake did just that, directing his mana into a singular point. A small flame erupted in the palm of his hand, flickering violently. And then, just as quickly, it vanished.

“I… I did it,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. The sensation of controlling the energy coursing through him, and using it to will something into existence… ‘This is so cool!’

“Yes. Yes, you did,” the old mage chuckled. “And with that, I have but one last lesson to teach you today.” The blue flames within Arthur’s palm swelled and spun, forming a ball of pure energy. Aiming it towards the sky, it then shot up and dissipated high above their heads. A few more shots followed, each faster than the last. “This is the most basic offensive spell at our disposal: Manabolt. Why don’t you give this one a try as well?”

Not needing to be asked twice, flames erupted from Drake’s hand. As he had just witnessed, he concentrated on the image of them spinning and leaving his hand. But as he prepared to shoot, the flames between his fingers fizzled out.

“Keep at it. You will eventually get the hang of it. As far as technique is concerned, you are almost there. I will, however, leave you with one last piece of advice,” said Arthur, patting Drake on the shoulder. “No two mages are alike. So, should you ever fail in your pursuit, do not fret. Not everyone is capable of the same feats when it comes to magic. And when that time inevitably comes, keep an open mind and do not be afraid to try something else, regardless of what anyone else might say.”

“Yes, sir.” He sighed and gazed at his hand. ‘If this really is such a visual thing… maybe I’m using the wrong image.’

Drake stuck out his hand and steadied his breathing. ‘Just like every morning… let everything else fade away and concentrate only on the task at hand.’ The orb of mana radiated light as it spun, quicker and quicker, becoming more compact. ‘That’s it. Think of a bullet leaving a gun’s barrel…’

Like he envisioned, the Manabolt took the shape of a small projectile as it shot up and away from his palm.

Arthur grinned and followed the bolt racing towards the sky. “Remarkable, Drake! If all Strangers pick things up this quickly, thigs will certainly become… interesting. Well then,” he smiled, walking past his pupil. “Keep at it. A sword does not sharpen itself.”

As if struck by lightning, Drake’s eyes widened. His mind now in overdrive, he sprinted towards Arthur who in turn stopped to face him.

“Uhm… by any chance, do we have an armory?”