Everyone stiffened. Theon and Rhea met Aaron’s gaze. Worry flickered, unspoken. Aaron sighed and whispered to Theon. "Why is this so important?"

  Surprisingly, Rhea answered. "The five sages rarely leave their domains. Leaving those sanctums is dangerous." She tilted her head. "As are sages themselves. Think of it as hearing an ursine has left its cave and gone prowling."

  Theon nodded, arms crossed. "The timing of this is… inauspicious. With you being here. And sages do not act outside of ritual days." He exhaled. "People are going to take this as a power play. She just kicked the Mothers hive."

  Aaron frowned, turning the words over in his mind. The conversation murmured on, but his focus slipped. He reached for the rotating magnet in his thoughts and gave it a spin. Is this the first sage to move?

  My nameless mind mage seems immensely powerful. Is he another sage? Every time I think I’ve hit rock bottom, the floor gives out.

  He exhaled slowly. "Is there a sage of mind magic?"

  Rhea grinned. "Not that I recall." Aaron shot her a look and the trio chuckled.

  "No," Theon admitted. "Pella has sages of Radiomancy, Infernomancy, Thermomancy, Carnomancy, and Infomancy."

  Aaron raised a brow. Theon hesitated. "The last two are already an anomaly." He lowered his voice.

  "Cogni-, Carno-, Info-, and Synthamancers are powerful—too powerful. Many are hunted. The risk is too great. Most do not seek to progress beyond master."

  A weight settled in Aaron’s chest. Aaron exhaled slowly. No warning. No input. When do I get a damn say in my own life?

  Rhea cleared her throat. "Nonetheless, we should not dawdle. Our initiation awaits."

  She glanced at Aaron. "Without a mind shield or void access, you won’t light up your medallion."

  Aaron grimaced. Theon misread it. "Don’t worry, we’ll get you caught up in a few weeks." Aaron smiled. If only you knew.

  Aaron stepped outside—light hit his face, warm and unfiltered. He stopped.

  For the first time, Aaron saw the city of Pella.

  The mansion stood atop a hill, overlooking the mesa. A sheer cliff formed its base—two hundred men high—smooth, unyielding, crowned with towering walls. A fortress carved by nature and fortified by man.

  Beyond the mesa, farmland and orchards stretched toward a shimmering lake. Above, two skybound peninsulas wove together, their lush vegetation cutting into the blue of the ocean.

  Beyond them, an ocean dotted with islands reflected the golden glow of a distant sun. On the other side, the land fell away into an endless desert, white and black dunes trailing toward the base of a mountain range that clawed at the horizon.

  Aaron let out a slow breath. This isn’t Earth. If I wasn’t constantly fighting for my life, I’d be celebrating.

  Aaron let out a slow breath. The sheer beauty of it pressed down on him—overwhelming, almost oppressive. Then, the memories came. Dying men. Dead by my hands.

  Cold crawled down his spine as he stood frozen. This place holds more beauty and horror than my life before the Weaver took me.

  Rhea nudged him. "Come on."

  Aaron scanned the valley as they descended the hill. Villas and villages dotted the landscape. Slaves moved through orchards filled with strange yellow fruit trees, something that resembled olives, and a tall, unfamiliar nut-bearing tree.

  "Red quinces," Theon gestured to the orchard. "That’s where the wine comes from. The fungi on the skin make it mildly psychedelic."

  Aaron froze mid-step. "Wait. The wine was what?"

  Rhea smirked. "You didn’t notice?"

  Aaron groaned. "Explains a lot."

  Theon pointed at another grove further down the hill, where different trees grew in careful rows. "This is the dry side. So we grow olives and long nuts here. They give us oils and plant meat, respectively."

  Aaron tilted his head.Are these really Earth plants or just the best-fitting analogues?

  "It makes sense," Aaron said carefully. "I hear names for similar plants from my world. But plant meat— is that protein? Like in animal meat?"

  Theon frowned. "Yes, plant meat is plant meat. Like you find it in animal meat. What are you asking?" Aaron sighed. Even AI from my world wouldn’t screw up this badly.

  They walked on in silence, the dirt path winding toward a village below. As they passed more fields, something caught Aaron’s attention.

  Oxen pulled carts, plowed fields, and carried loads.A steady, methodical rhythm. And yet— Aaron frowned. Why no horses?

  Aaron shuddered as he watched the slaves toil under the sun.All this beauty, built on broken backs. Aaron looked away.

  They reached the first village. Aaron’s eyes swept over the architecture. Wind tugged at the cloth rooftops, exposing the skeletal wooden frames beneath.

  Each house had a tall, singular wall pointing in one direction. Below it, a small cistern or garden nestled in its shadow. The homes behind the walls were flimsy, their wooden frames exposed. Cloth roofs fluttered in the breeze—some houses had none at all.

  He turned to Theon. "Why don’t they have proper roofs?"

  Theon gave him a look, as if explaining to a toddler. "Roofs are only for aesthetics or shade. Only nobles afford them. The rainwall is sufficient."

  Aaron frowned. That makes no sense. "How does a single wall keep the houses dry if rain falls from the sky?"

  A beat. Rhea snorted. "Rain doesn’t just fall straight down—it comes from a direction. That’s why we call it rainward."

  Aaron blinked. Wait. Rain… doesn’t just fall straight down?

  Theon exhaled, as if explaining the obvious. "Why else do you think we grow quinces on the rainward side and dry-loving olives on the—"

  A deep, guttural roar ripped through the sky. Everyone flinched. Aaron’s head snapped up. A streak of fire split the sky. A thunderclap followed, deep and rolling, shaking the air.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Shouts erupted. Mothers snatched up their children. Farmers pointed, eyes wide, mouths moving soundlessly.

  Aaron’s stomach lurched. Attack? Explosion? No—too fast. Too controlled. His body tensed, weight shifting to move, to run.

  Then—he saw Theon. Lips pressed thin, eyes closed. Rhea, frozen, shaking her head. Not panic. Recognition. Aaron swallowed, his pulse hammering against his ribs. What the hell just happened?

  "The Sage of Fire," she whispered. Aaron’s stomach dropped. If one sage is a grizzly on the move, two encountering each other might be nasty. Getting between fighting monsters is generally unhealthy.

  "But aren’t all sages mages of Pella?" he asked, his voice thinner than he liked. "They should be allies, right? Surely they won’t fight?" Please let this be peaceful and not a magical shitstorm.

  Theon exhaled, tilting his head side to side in a so-so gesture. "They won’t fight openly," he murmured. "But we value strength. Sages compete over nearly everything. Any encounter is a battle."

  Aaron swallowed. He wasn’t a pawn on the board. He was dust, scattered between giants.

  The roaring comet moved towards the city's white mesa. The sage is fanning the flames. His hands clenched. And I have to walk straight into them.

  They left the village behind. Theon moved close to Aaron, lowering his voice as he looked about furtively.

  "You felt the Matriarch’s presence. That wasn’t an accident. She has a high social stat—probably over ten. The sages will be worse." Aaron blinked.

  Theon’s voice dropped even lower. "When people like that get into public debates, it creates unrest. It polarizes the people." His gaze flicked around as he pulled away.

  Rhea muttered something under her breath. Theon hissed back, face darkening. Aaron barely noticed. Social attribute. If they have those skill guides, it makes sense. But… high social attribute?

  That sounds like mind control. Aaron’s jaw locked. She played me. The realization crawled down his spine like ice. Was I ever actually in control? Was my name my choice? Or was I just... guided?

  He inhaled sharply, but the weight in his chest didn’t lift. My name. My identity. My choices. Have any of them been mine? Or just carefully molded into place?

  His fingers dug into his palms, nails pressing deep. I need to be careful. I need to get powerful. Because right now, I am neither.

  The watcher had offered him a reward. Aaron glanced at the two beside him, their silence heavy. Should I ask them about attributes? I really need to understand how power works here.

  They walked in silence until the dirt gave way to a well-traveled road. Its surface was strange. Not cobblestone, not asphalt, not dirt. A smooth, natural rock, grey and uniform, cut with deep, regular grooves. I guess if you can magically manipulate rock, infrastructure changes a lot.

  Slaves toiled nearby, moving in rhythm. Aaron’s brow furrowed. They use slaves, but the Matriarch had a robot. Why? Where does magic end and tech begin here?

  A touch on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts. "We’ve never discussed attributes, have we?" Rhea asked. "Theon threw it out so casually earlier."

  Aaron opened his mouth, but Theon cut in. "Maybe we should do this after we get him a medallion and a reader—so he can actually see what we’re talking about."

  Aaron turned to him. His pulse picked up. "What’s a reader?"

  "A device through which your blood or medallion can be used to analyze aspects of your being," Theon explained. "There are many types. Most check your attributes or beliefs. Others check for more complicated things."

  Aaron frowned. Stats make sense, but beliefs? How do you even test that? A chill ran down his spine. Well, if you have mind magic, having a thought police is the logical next step.

  He swallowed, then gave the mental magnet another spin.

  "I’d like to hear about attributes," he said carefully. "The watcher told me that all my attributes have been increased by one."

  The others froze. Theon turned, mouth slightly open. "Did it say if this counts against your progress? Were those skill, item, or special points?" he asked, voice tight.

  Rhea shook her head. "Does it matter? Five points is huge for someone who’s unranked."

  Aaron let the silence hang. Seems like I still had one bombshell about my divine blessings left to drop.

  His smile was calm, deliberate. "Would you care to enlighten me about what all of that means? Explain it as if I have never heard of any of this."

  Aaron paused, giving Theon a look. "Because I haven’t, you know."

  Theon exhaled, lowering his voice. "There are five attributes: Cognition, Movement, Resistance, Perception, and Social. You raise them through arcane substances, danger, or… rarer means."

  Aaron blinked. Stats. Quantifiable attributes.

  A pit opened in his stomach. He had been playing by instinct, by gut feel. But if this world had metrics—if power was something that could be measured— Just how weak am I?

  Aaron raised a brow. "And the gods' part?"

  Theon hesitated. "Special points. They’re rare. You either get them from relics... or divine blessings."

  Rhea folded her arms. "And you just got five." She whistled. "That’s absurd."

  Aaron blinked. Relics or gods? Are those the only other ways?

  Rhea shook her head and cut in.

  "What actually matters here is that if you got specialattributes, you’ll benefit from everything Xandros ate and trained as well. So—" Theon practically vibrated.

  "Mages like us get five points at most. You might get ten." His grin widened. "That is the weave of myths, Aaron. If a sage breaks that limit, it’s a record for the Worm’s Archive."

  Both of them stared at him, wide-eyed. Aaron exhaled. Great. Apparently, I’ve been buffed and then thrown into a meat grinder. Doesn’t this usually work the other way around?

  His voice dropped to a whisper. "That makes me pretty powerful. Should we be telling people that?"

  Theon resumed walking, heading toward a bastion at the foot of the mesa. "All mages under Magus rank must report their attributes to the Polis."

  Aaron’s stomach dropped. He walked in silence as the others continued their animated discussion. Aaron’s mind spun. There’s a lot to consider. I could ask so much. I should ask so much.

  But I’m already walking into the next mess. The image of the fire sage, streaking across the sky like a comet, burned behind his eyes.

  They reached the last crossroads before the city gate. The main road was the same patterned grey stone, bustling with traffic. But the road on the right—Aaron’s steps faltered.

  Aaron’s gaze locked onto the valley below. A road of wet, blood-red stone stretched toward a low structure by the shore—its walls pulsing, shifting, breathing.

  Aaron froze.

  The plants—if they could even be called that—were wrong. Thick, glistening leaves twitched at unseen movement. Vines, veins, pulsed beneath translucent bark. The roads—no, arteries—coiled, looping in patterns that made his eyes ache.

  His stomach churned. Every inch of his instincts screamed. This was not architecture. This is flesh.

  His breath turned shallow. He was staring at something that should not be. Something alive. And something… Watching. Like a lamb staring at the slaughterhouse.

  The sight burrowed under his skin. It was wrong on some fundamental level, like the landscape itself had been rewritten.

  Rhea followed his gaze. "The Carnal Academy. The seat of the Sage of Blood."

  A beat passed. Then her expression shifted. "Oh, the flesh trees?" Rhea said casually. "That’s just his domain. Sages shape reality around them."

  Aaron exhaled. Sure. A valley of fleshy abominations is totally normal. Well, people always acclimatize to the extraordinary. At this rate, I’ll be drinking blood tea and calling it vintage by next week.

  A laugh escaped him. Rhea gave him a strange look. Theon clapped him on the back. "Don’t worry. The First Sage is a notorious recluse. He was last seen before I was born."

  Aaron forced a smile as he moved toward the gatehouse.

  Yeah, because reclusive sages never show up just to ruin some poor fool’s life.

  +++ Shout-Out Time +++

  As always, this chapter was edited using the mighty Infomancy Analyst Spell called ChatGPT.

  Upload schedule: Mon/Tue/Wed/Thu/Fri 4:47 PM EST / 10:47 PM CET → Each chapter is 1500 +/- 500 words long.

  What do you think of Aaron's decisions? Would you have done the same?

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