Prologue – The World’s End
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The night fell on Riverstar, a village by the side of the most beautiful river in the world. It had been cleansed by the magic of the Grand Sage, making the water forever clean and untainted so that the stars may adorn it with their sparkles every night. Hence, the village had its name changed in memory of the Grand Sage’s visit.

Tonight, everybody was celebrating a plentiful harvest all over the streets. In a tavern full of laughter, folk songs, clinking of glasses, and drink spills all over the table, they were grateful for a year of peace, no monster, no war, no oppression, all thanks to the Great Sage. Even though it had been two hundred years since his last appearance, no one had forgotten about the teaching of previous generations, the one about a mage with the power beyond all power.

As they were drunk with their meals and songs, suddenly, the lights went off, and everyone fell silent. Magic it was. Their songs were never intended to stop, yet someone was blocking their words at the tip of their tongues. All eyes instinctively looked toward the single light still shining, beneath which was the empty stage. On the wooden floor were a stool and a suitcase.

Everybody was confused. Some ran outside looking for help as a young man walked out in the middle of the stage. He wore a jacket attached with diamond beads, his legs in long loose pants just short of the ankles, a white pair of socks, and a shiny pair of leather shoes. His face was young and bright, a smile on his lips as he bowed before the audience.

Without a word, he came to his suitcase, opened it, and took out a brimmed hat. As he put it on his head, panic flared in everyone’s eyes. They opened their mouths, desperately screaming for him to stop, but the spell remained, and silent was all there was. They had seen this performance from the magical projectors enough to know what was going to happen.

The music started, and the people trembled. They wanted to run like the lucky few that had, but too late it was. Their feet, much like their mouths, were no longer theirs as some cried without sobbing. It was torture to them, but for the young man, such reactions were just another day on the stage with another audience.

They were afraid not because it was a song of madness like that from the Siren. As a matter of fact, both the music and the dance were quite catchy. The problem here was that it was the song of the gods, which wasn’t meant to be performed by an outsider.

The young man snapped his thumb, startling everyone. A microphone appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the stage. The unwilling audience could only accept their fate and pray for this blasphemy to receive judgment. They just hoped they would avoid it.

And so the show began. The lyrics went.

She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene

I said don't mind, but what do you mean, I am the one

Who will dance on the floor in the round?

She said I am the one, who will dance on the floor in the round

She told me her name was Billie Jean, as she caused a scene

Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one

Who will dance on the floor in the round”

The young man nodded, understandably so, when people passed out because of Micheal Jackson’s Billie Jean. The grievous faces below made it hard for him to keep his tone, for he was holding his laughter.

The song hadn’t lasted for more than half a minute before some high mages intervened. Though hard had they been trying, they were still being kept outside by his premade magic barrier as balls of fire, lightning, and water came down on it with little result. The mage's faces were all frighteningly red, for the song wasn't only heard in the tavern but throughout the whole village. Barely keeping it together, they cried out in the hope that it would overwhelm the singing, for they were not in range of the silencing spell.

“Sto….p!”

They were shocked to find themself affected by the spell. The mages dumbfoundedly looked at the young man in the spotlight, taunting them with a finger on his lips.

Seeing that all the disturbance had been dealt with, the singer continued. His moves were polished and refined as if he had practiced them thousands of times. His voice was appealing, not as impressive as the original, he would say, but the effort was there.

For the audience, five minutes felt like their whole life. They worshipped the Grand Sage, seeing him as the savior. Witnessing a man singing and dancing the song of him and his holy servants made them tremble with anger and fear, for the young man’s magic was far above the high mages.

As the song was coming to an end, the young man threw up his hat. The moment it hit the ceiling, everything disappeared, from the rafter, the roof to the chimney, revealing the night sky with the moon nonchalantly resting on the passing clouds.

“The last dance,” the young man announced, “for the good-natured people of this village.”

Unsurprisingly, he did the MoonWalk and flew toward the moonlight, catching his hat.

Suddenly, everybody realized they could speak again, and the yelling began.

“Get him!”

“Burn him!”

“Rip him apart!”

The mages quickly got back to work. The chanting started, but when they looked up only to find their target flying effortlessly above the river of the stars in his glittering jacket, leaving behind only satisfying laughter echoing through the streets.

The mages stopped. Nobody could chase him because flying was one of the most challenging skills to master, and here, nobody had reached there yet.

“He does look like someone,” a mage spoke.

“Yes, I see!” another responded.

“Like him.”

All turned their heads toward the one who had just spoken that last sentence. They intended to reject that idea but only found themself dumbfounded once again, without the influence of magic this time. As high mages, they knew more than the common folks. The image of that young man was something they had been taught since their first days at the magic academy.

That was the younger version of Jack Corvus, The Grand Sage.

 

Jack made it back to Crystalwood when the sun was high, as the townsfolk were bustling with their daily activities. He landed outside the walls and blended into the woods to avoid unnecessary alarms from inside.

Jack walked along the line of people entering the city gate on the gravel road.

“Morning, Jack!” a guard greeted him.

“Morning, Berth!” Jack responded. “You look tired this morning.”

“I think I ate something wrong yesterday cause I don’t feel so good now!”

Jack squinted his eyes as if he was looking for something on Berth, then smiled.

“Wow, that’s a lot of beer, Berth. You don’t listen to me at all, do you?”

“How about this afternoon?” Berth said, avoiding the criticism.

“How else?” Jack shook his head. “Remember to arrive at the clinic before closing time!”

“Gotcha!”

As Jack was following the main road back to his clinic, he instantly noticed the differences. Smoke was rising from the chimney on the roof and the whole house emitted an aura of welcoming. Jack knew Elle had reopened her secret service again, attracting anyone looking for her, The Wise Elf.

The shabby old door opened as a boy ran out. In his excitement, the kid tripped on Jack at the front of the house and stumbled on the ground.

“Watch your step, kid!” Jack said.

The boy stood up, sniffing, looking at Jack with a pair of round angry eyes.

“What did you ask Elle?” Jack stopped the boy with a question before he got mad.

As expected, he was far too excited to let it bother him.

“I asked her how to be stronger?” He answered. “And, you cannot call the lady like that. It's blasphemy, don’t you know? Call her The Wise Elf.”

Jack smirked. The kid was trying to educate The Grand Sage, Elle’s superior, and he didn’t know that.

“Strength comes from studying,” Jack answered, paying no attention to the kid's attitude.

“Studying?” The boy looked at him with contempt.

“Isn’t that right?” Jack’s face got serious as he lowered himself to see the boy better.

“Hmmm, to be as powerful as The Destroyer, what good is studying?” He rejected the idea bluntly. “You must have the innate gift, talent, but most importantly, the resources to change your constitution. The Wise Elf has shown me how to achieve that power. It is,... Wait, why should I tell you about it?”

“You do know that Xerath is The Grand Sage’s inferior, right?” Jack ignored the resources talk and continued asking.

“Again, blasphemy!” He grumbled. “And you are trying to say that the Grand Sage is the strongest person because he studied?”

“What else!” Jack answered.

The kid burst out laughing like he was about to stumble again.

“Yeah, you can fool people around, but not me!”

Having said that, he padded Jack's shoulder, giving him an understandable look, then walked away.

Jack can still hear the boy’s grumbles from some distance, “What a fool!”

Jack shook his head and opened the door into his modest clinic.

The interior was quite simple. There was only a table and a couple of chairs. By the side of the window was a bench for patients to sit and wait. On the shelves were jars of premade potions protected by a layer of glass. The back of the house was the kitchen and two bedrooms, one for him, the other for Elle.

Jack entered the kitchen and saw Elle taking a pie out of the oven.

“Elle, why are you not resting….”

Jack stopped his words, seeing the windows wide open, the kitchen cleaned of dust, and the table in the middle filled with his favorite foods from his previous life, hamburger, fried chicken, and pudding. His eyes laden before the youthful freshness on Elle’s beautiful face.

It was happening again, the terminal lucidity of the people closest to Jack.

Jack pulled a chair to him and sat down, his hands rubbing his eyes, trying to stop his flowing emotions.

“It’s been 500 years, ey?”

Elle’s warm and soft voice sounded beside Jack as she put the tray of apple pie on the table.

“I’m too old for this, Elle!” Jack said.

Elle sat down, putting her hand on Jack’s.  The touch didn’t pass any warmness to Jack, only a sorrowful coldness.

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” Elle said, “I will soon have to leave you alone!”

“I really want to see Emily and Xerath together with you, Elle!” Jack said, his hands still covering his eyes.

“Soon, nobody deserves it better than you.”

“It’s a sorrowful way to talk about death, isn’t it?”

“Yes, your wife would kick your ass if she saw you this gloomy!”

Jack faced up and smiled.

“Is that so? Then I should postpone that a little bit longer. Emi could enjoy her waiting for a while!”

Elle laughed. The ageless face of the elf was still present with its sense of pride, though elegant and actually quite approachable. She had always been Jack’s companion from the very first days he stepped onto this world. Now, on the top of the world, his physiology had surpassed that of the elves and their infertility. An unwelcome improvement, for Jack had already bid farewell to his wife, friends, and even their children. Now, he found it harder to do it again, especially with the last of his companions.

But, he knew he must let Elle go in peace.

“I have just messed something up again!” Jack told her while grabbing a chicken leg.

“You performed without me, again?” Elle said, not trying to hide her disappointment.

“When I asked Manuel to teach the music from the previous life, I was hoping they would be publicly performed, you know...”

Then Jack continued to recall his triumph at Riverstar last night as enthusiastically as he possibly could while also scolding Elise about why only showing the kid about Xerath’s path of brawl and muscle. 

And then, Elle left.

Her eyes closed, a peaceful smile on her lips.

Jack reached out, embraced her, and no longer held back his tears. The magic that had been keeping Jack young loosened, revealing his grey hair, the wrinkles carved deep into his eyes as his stature shrank.

“Bring her back home!” Jack said.

Dots of blue mana gathered and moved around Elle as she disappeared before Jack’s eyes, her body returning to the forest where she was born.

Jack stood up, his tears dried into a dark line on his cheeks. He looked out from the window as people were still bustling outside.

During Emily’s last day, Jack had traveled to the edge of the world, desperately searching for a chance to save his wife. He had only found an invisible wall, covered by a layer of mist, unbreakable even before the most almighty of magic. Everybody seemed trapped. Then and now, he only wished for everything to stop, especially the pain that was consuming him.

Surprisingly, something responded to his plea, and everything stopped. That was beyond Jack’s power. He was confused by the vision in front of his eyes as the grass was no longer waving, the wind just stood still, but the sun was still shining bright. Too bright it was. The light spread faster than Jack’s own thoughts and, before he knew it, consumed the whole town, shortly after, the world.

A long-forgotten table appeared before Jack’s eyes. It had the appearance of an in-game notification that Jack could barely remember.

Experiment World No. 146 has reached its end.

Trial Completed.

Proceed to the next stage.

Please standby.

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