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Chapter 3: The Weight on Our Shoulders

  “Three or four nights?!”

  Sakura wasn’t the only one with objections, but she was certainly the loudest. A ripple of mixed reactions spread across the group, ranging from frustration to sheer disbelief.

  “You’re telling me,” Gabrielle began, pinching the bridge of her nose, “that after getting yanked into this world without warning, we now have to march through a magical forest for days just to get to where we’re supposed to train?”

  “And sleep outside,” Amethyst added, looking no more thrilled than her sister. “In a world where we have no idea what’s out there.”

  “And eat... what, exactly?” Hyacinth's voice was wary. “Are we foraging? Hunting? I don’t exactly have survival training.’

  “I don't even camp in my own world,” Andrew muttered, arms crossed. “Let alone here.”

  Pierre scoffed, shaking his head. “This is absurd. Can we not simply teleport? Surely magic exists that allows for instant travel.”

  A few nods of agreement followed, and I found myself glancing at Marik. Of all the people here, he seemed the most likely to have an answer that actually made sense.

  The High Mage chuckled—a soft, knowing sound that made me think he’d heard this all before. “Ah, if only the solution were that simple.” He gestured upward, as if drawing our attention to the very air around us. "Teleportation magic is not as convenient as you might believe. It requires precise anchoring, a stable point of arrival, and an immense amount of energy. Even the most skilled mages cannot simply snap their fingers and transport a group of ten across a great distance. It is an art, a science, and a dangerous one at that."

  His deep blue eyes gleamed with amusement as he continued. "Andora’s home is shielded. No teleportation magic can reach it. Even if I were to send you partway, the risk of miscalculation could leave you scattered across the wilderness—or worse, inside a tree."

  The twins exchanged a horrified look.

  "Alright, but why not teleport us as close as possible and let us walk the rest of the way?" Viktor questioned, his tone practical.

  Marik inclined his head. "A reasonable suggestion. However, the Woods of Silence exist on the edge of Mysteria’s magical equilibrium. The closer you get, the more unstable teleportation becomes. One misstep, and you may find yourself lost in a dimension between realms, forever adrift."

  "Yeah, hard pass," Zeke muttered.

  Pierre still looked skeptical. "You expect us to believe there is no easier way?"

  Marik merely smiled. "I expect you to trust that some journeys must be taken the hard way. There is value in the path itself, not just the destination."

  "That sounds like something a teacher would say when they want to make students suffer," I muttered under my breath.

  Zeke snorted. "Right? Next thing you know, we’ll have to climb mountains just to ‘build character.’"

  Marik raised a brow. "Ah, but you will."

  Silence.

  "What?" Andrew deadpanned.

  "Not yet," Marik continued smoothly, as if he hadn’t just shattered what little patience we had left. "But for now, your journey through the Woods of Silence will teach you far more than you realize. Not just about survival, but about yourselves."

  Gabrielle groaned, tilting her head back. "Great. So we’re going on some deep, personal journey while also trying not to die in an unfamiliar world. Fantastic."

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  Dero clapped his paws together, beaming. "It won’t be so bad! We know the best places to rest, and we’ll find food for everyone. We’re very good at it!"

  Hyacinth still looked unconvinced. "I don’t suppose by ‘best food’ you mean anything... normal? Like, I don’t know, bread?"

  Kaldi rumbled a chuckle. "You will eat well. And you will not be poisoned. That much, we promise."

  Not exactly reassuring, but at least it was something.

  I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Alright. Let’s just get this over with."

  Pierre exhaled sharply, clearly displeased. "So we are truly meant to suffer through this experience?"

  Marik smiled, that infuriating, all-knowing smile of his. "Suffering is a choice. Learning, however, is inevitable."

  Zeke leaned toward me. "That sounded wise, but I think it just means we’re screwed."

  "Absolutely."

  Ishthar stepped forward, her expression turning serious. “Time is not on our side. The enemy will not wait for you to be ready. They would know you have arrived. You must leave soon.”

  “Right, about that,” Viktor chimed. “Who exactly is the enemy?”

  That was a question I knew the rest of us had been wanting to ask.

  Marik sighed, tapping his fingers on the marble table. His expression darkened, the amused glint in his eyes replaced with something more solemn. “They are known as the Vharethi—a race of semi-divine beings from the world of Xyphirath. They are ancient, powerful, and relentless.”

  He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing. “The Vharethi thrive on magic itself. It is their lifeblood, their very essence. Without it, they wither and fade. Their homeworld, once abundant in magic, was drained completely over countless centuries. Now, they wander from world to world, consuming magic wherever they find it, leaving nothing but lifeless husks in their wake.”

  A heavy silence followed his words. I felt a pit form in my stomach.

  “They want to consume Mysteria’s magic,” Andrew murmured, putting the pieces together.

  Ishthar nodded grimly. “Mysteria is not just any world—it is the heart of all magic, the source from which magic flows into every other realm. If the Vharethi succeed in devouring Mysteria’s energy…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “The balance of the universe will collapse. Magic will dwindle. Worlds that rely on it will suffer. Some may even perish.”

  Gabrielle inhaled sharply. “So it’s not just Mysteria at stake.”

  “No,” Ishthar confirmed. “It is all worlds, including your own.”

  The realization hit harder than I expected. This wasn’t just some otherworldly battle we’d been dragged into—it had consequences that stretched far beyond Mysteria.

  “But how do they plan to do it?” Cassandra asked. “Surely they can’t just waltz in and take all the magic for themselves.”

  “They are not so foolish,” Marik replied. “The Vharethi are cunning. They infiltrate, they corrupt, they twist the hearts of those who seek power.”

  “They already have loyalists among Mysterians,” Ishthar added. “Those who have forsaken their own world, promised salvation and glory in the ‘new era’ the Vharethi claim to bring. Their numbers are growing.”

  Pierre scoffed. “And these fools believe them?”

  “They do,” Marik said simply. “Because the Vharethi have power beyond anything Mysteria has seen before. Their influence is undeniable. And to those who desire strength above all else, their promises are . . . tempting.”

  Silence lingered, the weight of the revelation settling over the room.

  “I can only imagine,” I finally muttered.

  Because now, I understood. This wasn’t just a fight to protect a foreign world. This was a fight to protect magic itself. And whether we liked it or not, we were already part of it.

  Ishthar’s gaze swept over us, her expression unreadable. Then, in a quieter voice, she asked, “Now that you understand the stakes, will you fight?”

  The weight of her question settled heavily over the chamber. No one answered immediately. How could we? We had just learned that an entire race of powerful, magic-devouring beings had set their sights on Mysteria—and, by extension, the rest of the universe. This was so much bigger than any of us had imagined.

  But before anyone could respond, the entire chamber shook.

  A thunderous explosion erupted from somewhere outside, and a deafening crack echoed through the stone walls. Dust rained from the ceiling as another tremor rumbled beneath our feet.

  Marik’s expression darkened. “That’s not good.”

  Kaldi let out a low growl, his fur bristling. “We are out of time.”

  “We need to hurry,” Dero yelped, fear apparent in his voice.

  Ishthar’s violet eyes turned toward the sealed entrance, where a faint glow pulsed ominously. “They are here.”

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