The Madness of Yilheim

In the heart of the rubble, Valerius and Grace stood beside the hollow shell of his arc armour. Morning sunlight danced across shattered beams and crumbled stones. Valerius knelt by the suit, rummaging through a side compartment, brow furrowed.

"I'm sure I put some in here…" he muttered.

Grace tilted her head. "What are you looking for?"

"Some glowing crystals. I kept a few in this compartment, but they're all gone."

"Oh!" Grace brightened. "I remember seeing something fall out yesterday. They might still be here somewhere."

Valerius rose with a sigh and scanned the wreckage. "This is going to be a pain in the ass."

He turned to her. "Help me find them?"

Together, they began combing through the rubble.

"So," Grace asked as she lifted a broken plank, "why do you need them?"

Valerius glanced up. "No offence, but you folks are broke as hell. I was thinking of selling a few."

Grace gave him a flat look. "We may not have much, but we're surviving just fine."

"That's why I said no offence," he replied with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. "What even are those things? I've never seen anything like them."

Valerius shrugged. "No idea. But I know they're valuable."

After a few minutes of searching, Grace suddenly straightened. Her eyes widened.

"I found them!"

Valerius jogged over, crouched beside her, and picked up a few of the crystals. They pulsed faintly in the light—ethereal and otherworldly.

"Nice," he said, smiling.

Grace watched him for a moment, then asked, "You know… you never told me your name."

He blinked. "Oh. Yeah. And you never told me yours, either."

He stood and dusted his palms. "Alright, let's start over. I'm Lerius."

She smiled. "And I'm Grace."

He extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Grace."

She hesitated, then awkwardly shook it up and down.

Valerius chuckled. "Not like that—here, like this." He guided her hand into a proper handshake.

"Where I'm from, this is how people greet each other."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Interesting… Are you a noble?"

Valerius laughed. "What makes you think that?"

She sat on a chunk of stone and shrugged. "Well, nobles are the only ones I know who use formalities like that."

He took off his overshirt and carefully wrapped the glowing crystals inside. "I'm no noble. Just a regular, small guy."

Grace eyed him. "Why are you so small, anyway? Are you one of those… other races?"

Valerius raised a brow. "Haven't you ever met anyone from another race?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Only heard stories."

Valerius looked at her thoughtfully. She looks more human than even the Elves… I wonder what race she really is.

"Yeah," he said aloud. "I'm one of them. An Elvhein."

Grace studied him, fingers tapping her chin. "You're… not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" he asked.

"I dunno… something more…"

"Ugly?" he guessed.

She gave a sheepish laugh. "Yes."

Valerius smirked. "Trust me—they're out there."

She leaned in. "Are you sure you're not an Aurellian?"

"Aurellian?" he echoed.

"Yes," she said. "That's what I am."

Valerius blinked. So… that's what she is.

She continued, "Apart from your hair, skin, and size—you look just like us. Are all elvheins so small?"

He thought of Kaelan… then of his mother. Come to think of it… why are we so small? Did Mum do something? She's genetically modified animals before… but no. She wouldn't do that to her own kids.

"What are you thinking about?" Grace asked.

He snapped out of it. "Huh? Oh—nothing."

Valerius slung the bundle of wrapped crystals over his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Let's take this to your dad. See if he can figure out how to sell them."

As they made their way back through the village, Grace glanced at him curiously. "Lerius… are you a mage?"

"I wish," he said, raising a brow. "Do I give off that vibe?"

"Well, you do have glowing crystals. Only a mage would carry stuff like that."

Valerius gave a short laugh. "As cool as that would be… I'm not."

He slowed to a stop, clenching his fists at his sides. "But I have to become one. I can't stay this weak in a world like this."

Grace blinked. "You? Weak?" She laughed, light and carefree. "Did you already forget what you did to our house?"

Valerius didn't respond right away. She's never seen real power, he thought. She doesn't know what mages can really do.

"You haven't seen the kind of monsters that exist in this world," he said quietly. "So don't blame me for wanting more strength."

Grace tilted her head. "What kind of monsters?"

Valerius's gaze darkened. The image flashed in his mind—Beniek Ruin. Fire. Silence. A crater stretching further than the eye could see.

"The walking nuke kind."

"…Nuke?" she repeated. "What's that?"

"Forget it," he muttered. "You wouldn't understand."

—

They reached Theosis's house and stepped inside. The family sat together in the living room, the morning sun pouring through the windows. Valerius placed his bundle on the table and unwrapped the crystals.

"Can you sell these?" he asked.

Frederick squinted. "Anna… aren't those the things that fell out of that contraption yesterday?"

Anna stepped closer. "Yes, they dropped out when we moved that strange armour."

Valerius nodded. "We're going to need money. How much do you think they're worth?"

Frederick picked one up and turned it slowly in his fingers. "No idea. I've never seen anything like this…"

He called out, "Theo!"

From another room came a muffled voice. "What?"

"Get in here!"

Moments later, Theosis emerged, wiping his hands on a cloth. He spotted the crystals and stopped in his tracks.

"Those magical things from yesterday…"

"Magical?" Anna and Grace echoed in unison.

"Yes," Theosis said, stepping closer. "Only magical items glow like that."

He sat beside them and picked up a crystal, examining it closely.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

Valerius shrugged. "Somewhere. Doesn't matter. What does matter is—are they valuable?"

Grace chimed in, "Uncle Theo's been to the capital. He's met mages before."

Valerius grinned. "Ooo, fancy."

Theosis gave him a dry look. "Mages use crystals like this to power their devices. They're rare. Expensive. If these are anything like them…"

He trailed off, eyes wide.

"Our lives are about to change."

Valerius smirked. "I like what I'm hearing."

"If it's alright with you," Theosis said, "I'll take them to Weston. Have them appraised."

"Who's Weston?" Valerius asked.

Anna answered, "Not who—where. Weston's the capital city of Grekon."

Valerius leaned back into the chair. "Alright. Take about half. How long will it take to get back?"

"Three days there, three days back," Theosis replied. "So, six."

Valerius sat up straight. "Six days?! Are you serious?" He groaned, then mumbled to himself, "Right… no cars."

He sighed. "Fine. Do what you have to do."

Theosis stood. "I'll set out today."

"You can stay here until your house is rebuilt," Frederick said. "Use the kitchen. Whatever you need."

Frederick glanced at him. "Just say you want Anna to cook for you."

Theosis grinned. "You know me too well."

He turned to Valerius. "You can stay too. It seems like you don't have anywhere else to go."

Valerius clasped his hands in front of him and gave a small nod. "Thank you."

—

A few hours later, the smell of cooked stew filled the house. They all gathered around the wooden table—Theosis and Frederick at opposite ends, Anna and Grace seated on one side, Valerius alone on the other.

Everyone dug in enthusiastically, singing praises for Anna's cooking.

Valerius forced a smile, his spoon halfway to his mouth. This tastes like shit. Even those kidnappers made better food than this.

He glanced around. And they're actually enjoying it? Everything in this world really is backwards. Looks like I'll have to fix the food situation too.

—

After dinner, Theosis finished packing, slinging a travel bag over his shoulder. He placed the crystals carefully inside, then headed outside.

Valerius watched from the window, eyes widening as he caught sight of an ause.

"What the hell…" he whispered. "Is that a horse?"

His mouth hung open as he watched Theosis mount the animal and set off down the dirt road.

"Of course. No cars, no fridges, and now—horses." He shook his head slowly. "This world is wild."

---

In Heful, morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the manor. Ziraiah barged into Eryndor's room, throwing the door open with a thud.

"Wake up!" she yelled. "How can you still be sleeping? Don't you want to explore this place?"

Eryndor lay sprawled across the bed, arms stretched out like a corpse. He cracked one eye open at the sound of her voice—then promptly closed it again.

Ziraiah smirked. "Oh? That's how it's gonna be?"

She marched to the foot of the bed, grabbed his ankle with one hand, and with an effortless swing, hurled him across the room.

"I said wake up!"

Eryndor slammed into the wall with a dull thud and dropped to the floor in a heap. After a beat of silence, he sat up without emotion and muttered, "Must you be so violent? With every passing day, you become more like Valerius. If mother were here, she'd never stand for such behaviour."

"Well, too bad," Ziraiah said, hands on hips. "Mom's not here."

Eryndor blinked at her, then furrowed his brow. "By what curious design are you adorned in such modern attire?"

Ziraiah twirled, showing off her white dress shirt and slim blue jeans. A familiar family crest was etched onto the back in silver thread.

"Nice, right?" she said. "Aunty Ria made it for me."

"And who, pray tell, is Aunty Ria? And how does she know about Earth's fashion?"

"She's a mage," Ziraiah said brightly. "I drew the design, gave her some specs, and she whipped it up with magic."

Eryndor raised an eyebrow. "Can she perhaps fashion a suit for me?"

"No," Ziraiah replied flatly. "You're eighteen. Act your age. Leave the suits to the old men."

She turned and waved over her shoulder. "I'm out."

Eryndor watched her reach the door. "You seem to have made yourself quite at home."

"Why shouldn't I?" she called back. "The place is nice. The people are nice."

"However, you were dissatisfied with your room yesterday."

"I said my Earth room was better. I didn't say this one wasn't nice," she said, slipping through the doorway. "Aunty Ann's waiting for you downstairs."

She vanished—then poked her head back in. "Oh, and don't worry about Val. Yelleen showed me where he is. He's far away, but he's alright."

She flashed two fingers. "Peace."

Then disappeared again.

Then, once more, her head appeared. "Also, Yelleen can send him a message for you. You should try it."

Gone again.

Eryndor chuckled softly to himself. That lively sister of mine.

He stood in front of the mirror, wearing only a pair of black shorts. He was lean—thin, with no definition. No abs. No tone. Just skin and bone.

The memory hit him like a wave—Valerius, in the ruin, nearly killing Ziraiah.

His eyes darkened.

"To ensure such calamity never befalls us again… I must attain greater strength."

He turned and walked into the bathroom, freezing when he spotted a silver flush toilet.

"Fortunate indeed," he whispered. "My rear end has suffered enough."

He sat, exhaled, and shut his eyes. "Oh, how I took for granted the pleasures of modern society."

Afterwards, he stepped under the rune-etched shower head, inspecting it with a tilt of the head.

"How does this function…?"

He tapped the runes, fiddled with the metal—until warm water poured down from above.

"Wonderful."

—

Fresh and dressed, Eryndor returned to his room to find a new set of clothes laid neatly on his bed.

He held them up. "This must be the native wear of this land."

—

Downstairs in the grand living room, Ziraiah was already seated with Andrea, Stereen, and Ria. Andrea sat with one leg crossed over the other, the large book Pungence had left resting on her lap.

Eryndor descended the stairs. Ria looked up first.

"Is that him?"

"Yes," Andrea said. "Come join us, Eryndor. There are things we must discuss."

He stopped at the last step. "Where is Pungence?"

Andrea's expression tightened. "He had to leave. Something important came up."

Eryndor stepped down and took a seat on the nearest sofa.

Andrea leaned forward, eyes serious now. "What do you think about attending school?"

Eryndor shrugged. "I think it's pointless. I already possess an ample amount of knowledge."

"Of Earth," Andrea replied sharply. "But this is not Earth. This is Yilheim. And here, you know nothing. Until Pungence finds a way to send you back, you'll be living in this world. You'll need to survive on your own. We're giving you the chance to prepare by attending Festitude Academy."

She let the name sink in, then continued.

"There, you'll learn what's necessary to stand on your own two feet. And if you're gifted… you may even learn magic."

The word magic lit something in Eryndor's chest.

If her words hold truth… then what stirs my deepest interest is not education—but power.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs.

"I'm persuaded," he said. "I shall enrol at Festitude Academy. I shall master the arcane arts. And I shall ascend to the very summit of this world's power. Only then shall my family remain beyond the reach of all threats."

Andrea and Ria exchanged amused glances. Then both laughed.

Ria—the tall, regal Aurellian with cropped black hair and eyes like obsidian—took a sip of wine and said, "That's a lofty dream, Eryndor."

She turned to Andrea. "Does he even know what it means to stand at the pinnacle in this world?"

Andrea chuckled. "To do that, he'd have to surpass Pungence."

Ria laughed again. "Surpass the Unstoppable weapon? I'd love to see that."

She raised her glass. "Well then, I'll be rooting for you, Eryndor."

Andrea turned to Ziraiah.

"And what about you, Ziraiah? Do you also have an impossible dream like your brother?"

Ziraiah shrugged. "No. I just want to go back home."

Ria set down her glass of wine and looked her over.

"You're an Elvhein, Ziraiah. I'm a hundred percent sure Yilheim is your home."

Then she leaned forward, growing serious. "Since your brother wants to stand at the pinnacle of this world, let's start by finding out if he's even gifted."

Ziraiah tilted her head. "What do you mean, 'gifted'?"

"In this world," Ria explained, "those born with the ability to store and refine Vitalis are called gifted."

Ziraiah's eyes lit with recognition. "Oh—Kaelan told us about that Vitalis stuff."

Andrea raised an eyebrow. "Who's Kaelan?"

"He's the first person we met after arriving here," Ziraiah said. "He helped us a lot until we got separated. He told us people can refine Vitalis into either Mana or Bravo. And—he's also an Elvhein like us."

Andrea and Ria exchanged stunned glances. Their eyes widened.

"You met another Elvhein?" Andrea asked. "Apart from Pungence?"

Ziraiah nodded. "Yeah."

Andrea pointed directly at her. "And he looked like you?"

"Yes."

Ria leaned forward. "Are you sure he wasn't an Aurellian?"

Ziraiah blinked. "Aurellian? What's that?"

Andrea sighed, putting a hand to her face. "See why you need to go to school? You don't know anything. Stereen, explain the races to them."

Stereen, seated comfortably on the opposite couch, spoke calmly.

"There are many races—Aurellians, Elves, Dragoons, Reliards, and more. We are Aurellians. Everyone in Zitry is an Aurellian. Well… with a few exceptions."

Ziraiah nodded slowly. "We figured there were a lot of races. We've seen plenty. Just didn't know which one was which. But Kaelan told us a but about thos world. In fact, he was the one who told us we were elvheins."

Andrea leaned forward. "Where is he now?"

Eryndor spoke up. "We got separated in Ignir. After we were kidnapped."

Ria's eyes narrowed. "Ignir?" She turned to Andrea. "Are you sure these two just came to Yilheim?"

Then to Eryndor: "How did you even enter Ignir? That region has one of the tightest border securities yardrad."

Ziraiah said flatly, "It's a long story."

Stereen blinked. "Wait—how long have you two been here?"

"About two weeks," Ziraiah replied.

"Two weeks?" Stereen echoed, surprised.

Ziraiah nodded again.

Ria returned to her earlier point. "Back to the matter at hand. Only the gifted can become mages."

Ziraiah asked, "And how do we know if we're gifted?"

"Those who are," Ria said, "have cores in their chests. Once you enrol, you'll be tested."

"There's another way," Stereen added. "Aunty Ann could hire a mage with Ethereal Sight.

Andrea crossed her arms. "No. I'm not paying for that. They always overcharge."

Ziraiah put on a wide-eyed expression and leaned toward her. "Pleeease, Aunty Ann. Just this once."

Andrea groaned. "Curse those big eyes... You're lucky you're so cute."

"I know, right?" Ria said. "I thought I was the only one. I've been resisting the urge to squeeze her cheeks since she got here."

Eryndor smiled quietly at their reaction—his mind drifting into memory.

He recalled Earth. Ziraiah's ninth birthday. The neighbourhood had gathered to celebrate.

"Oh my God, Lyriana, how can a girl be so cute?" one woman had gushed.

"Your children are beautiful, Lyriana," another had added.

Lyriana towered above them all at twelve feet four inches, looking down at the crowd with pride.

"Of course they are," she'd said with a smile. "They had no choice."

The neighbours had swarmed Valerius and Ziraiah, cooing and fussing over them, pinching their cheeks and giggling.

Eleven-year-old Valerius had looked furious, glaring daggers at his mother. He'd wanted to push them all away.

But Lyriana raised her finger… and gave him The Mother's Stare.

All thoughts of rebellion perished on the spot.

And Eryndor… he had watched it all from the stairs. Quiet. Masked. Distant.

"Eryndor."

His sister's voice brought him back. She was waving a hand in front of his face.

"Come on," she said. "Stereen's taking us to see the city."

Eryndor stood. They walked to the door together, following Stereen into the light of day.

---

To Be Continued...