The first breath that filled his lungs was not air, but fire. A sweet, piercing heat coursed through his spine, and his eyelids trembled as they opened. The wooden dormitory ceiling was the same, but the sensation in his body was different: lightness, strength... renewal. William slowly sat up, feeling the brush of the sheets against his skin as if it were the first time. There was no pain, no wounds. Only a strange hum in his chest.
"Angel... what happened?"
His voice sounded rough, almost strange. There was a short silence before the familiar female voice answered in his mind.
"You have been unconscious for six hours. Your body was on the verge of collapse... multiple fractures, internal hemorrhages... The user should not be able to recover so quickly. Even with my assistance to accelerate your healing, a normal human could not have survived."
William leaned his back against the headboard, observing his arms, which now looked intact.
"Then... what happened?"
"Someone poured an unknown liquid into your mouth while you slept. It was effective immediately. I scanned the remnants on your lips, but... I can only identify one ingredient: bitter peaches."
He frowned.
"Only one?"
"Yes. I have estimated it must contain at least six active components, but the others are unknown. This is beyond modern medicine, it is... magic."
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. It did not open immediately, as if whoever was on the other side hesitated. Finally, his companions entered: Dixon in front, followed by Theo, Cedric, and Thom. None said anything at first. They just looked at him, with a mixture of recognition and respect. The atmosphere was thick, laden with unspoken things.
"We thought you died, you idiot," Dixon finally murmured, arms crossed. His eyes, however, kept scanning William from head to toe.
"It is not easy to kill a wolf," William replied with a half smile.
Cedric let out a nasal chuckle and Thom nodded silently. Theo came closer to place a container of water on the nightstand. No one tried to touch him. No one asked how he felt. But William understood. In that sober gesture, in those contained gazes, there was more than words. A tacit oath between men who had been on the edge of the abyss together.
"Thanks for coming," William murmured, and that was all the emotion they needed to share.
"Let's get ready for literature class, it's getting late," Dixon said, pulling them out of the tense atmosphere they were in.
With a slight laugh, everyone began to get ready for class.
The literature class was one of the few mandatory for all commoners. Many could not read or write, and that made them tools, not people. Learning to use language was a way to survive.
The professor who introduced himself was tall, with silver hair that fell like silk over his golden tunic. He had a discreet elegance, but a stern gaze. His name was Aurus Remus, and his eyes were the color of molten gold.
"I am your language instructor. Here we are not going to read lovers' poetry or farmers' fables. Here you will learn to communicate with the world and, if you are lucky, to understand a little about yourselves," he declared in a grave, measured voice.
None of the students dared to interrupt.
"Starting today, you must attend this class every day. You will learn two languages: the first is Ikaris, the common tongue of the Redvale, Draymor, and many other neighboring kingdoms. The second..." he paused and observed them, as if looking for an anticipated reaction, "is called Remika. Do not ask me why it is important. I will only tell you that it is."
William tensed. The word struck something in his memory like a hammer on glass. A fragment emerged from the past.
He was a child. The old Rosehart library smelled of parchment and dry tobacco. His grandfather looked at him sternly, but with wise eyes, full of stories no book contained.
"This language, Remika, is not a common one," he told him as he traced complex lines on a paper. "Some call it a dead language, others a magical language. For us... it is the universal language. Where we came from, everyone knew how to speak it."
"Everyone?" young William asked, fascinated.
"Everyone who knew true power. Remika is like the breath of the world. Words not only name, they shape."
"Are there more languages?"
His grandfather nodded.
"Thousands. Like stars in the sky. But there is a third you must remember: Volgaris. It originated on an island no one can find, hidden by the eternal storm. They say whoever can speak it... can open doors..."
William touched the letters with trembling fingers, not fully understanding.
The class ended. The students flowed out like a contained river, speaking in murmurs. William walked last, engrossed in the echo of his memory. He passed by the professor's desk... and stopped short.
Aurus Remus had a parchment spread out. It was not Ikaris. It was not Remika. William knew instantly. That twisted calligraphy, those slightly warped signs... it was Volgaris.
Without thinking, he let the words flow from his lips.
"The eternal winds made my path difficult..." he whispered.
The sound seemed to tear the air. Aurus looked at him as if he had seen a ghost. His skin turned livid. The parchment fell from his hands.
"What... did you say?" he asked in a hollow voice.
The professor's words pulled William from his trance, bringing him back to reality as he panicked, trying to think of how to explain that he knew a lost language.
"Excuse me, Professor... I was just thinking aloud. Ignore my ramblings."
The professor's gaze focused on him with an unknown intensity, making him feel something he had never felt before.
"Warning. An unknown energy wave has been detected," Angel said, her voice filled with urgency.
"Activating defensive measures..."
"Failure. Cannot stop incoming energy."
A sharp beep exploded in his ears. William fell to his knees, gasping. Blood began to well from his nose, ears, mouth, and eyes.
If Commander Anthon's presence was like standing before a giant beast, this was different. It was like a small boat on a raging sea threatening to swallow him whole.
A voice emerged, dark and deep, like the echo of an abyss. Every word hurt like a blow.
"Don't lie to me... boy."