He leaned back in his chair, his expression filled with something between weariness and reverence.
"I've been walking these lands for a long time. I've seen it all: peasants clinging to the land as if it were part of their soul, nobles hiding behind titles and masks. Empty men with full lives. And none of it impressed me. None of it. Until I saw you"
There was a pause. He watched me as if he was trying to see through me.
"You have the potential. And for people like us..." he said, with a slight gesture in the air, as if naming it was pointless. "...talent is not just a gift. It's the basis of our existence. It's what defines us. And what condemns us"
I swallowed, feeling the weight of the words, but still confused.
"I'm sorry, but I still don't fully understand"
He smiled, a restrained and enigmatic smile, almost sad.
"You will. Sooner or later. Don't worry"
My eyes went wide the instant the glass jumped into my hand. The cup, until then motionless on the table, simply flew up as if it had been pushed by invisible hands. My fingers closed around it by instinct, almost dropping it. My heart raced. My tense muscles forced me to take half a step back.
The old man laughed.
A low, drawn-out laugh, as if he were amused by my fright... or testing me.
That's when his eyes changed.
The white and the iris disappeared, swallowed up by a dense, liquid darkness, like black ink spreading under glass. A shiver ran down my spine like a cold blade.
"Are you going to accept or not?" he asked, his voice firm, almost indifferent.
I stared at him for several seconds. Every part of my body was screaming that something was wrong. My breathing was heavy, as if the air had gained weight. Warnings whispered in my ear like wind through trees - get out, run, retreat. But... there was something else.
That same feeling I always followed. Curiosity.
A sick desire to go deeper, to understand, to see how far the abyss went before deciding whether I could jump.
"Yes" he said at last. "Thank you for the opportunity"
Those dark eyes narrowed, assessing me for a moment... then returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.
"Of course. New blood is always welcome" he replied with a tired smile. "Especially now that we're trying to get back on our feet"
A thick book with a leather cover darkened by time. There was no title, just a symbol embossed in the center - a circle cut by a diagonal line and two shiny dots on top, like eyes. Cold to the touch.
And a small amber glass bottle. Inside, seeds - black as obsidian, but they seemed to vibrate with a silent energy, as if something inside was alive and waiting.
I picked them both up carefully.
The seeds looked like black beans. Cold, smooth and strangely heavy for their size.
"You must cultivate at least one, or you will fail my first test," said the deputy principal, his voice laden with something deeper than just a charge.
"Understood" I replied, trying to keep my composure, but my hands were slightly shaky.
"Good" He raised his hand casually, and the door behind me opened with a soft, supernatural creak.
I left with quick steps, without looking back.
It was only when I left the room and walked for a few minutes through the empty corridors of the gym's west wing that I was able to breathe more calmly. I leaned against a carved stone column and closed my eyes, letting the early morning wind enter through the nearby window and hit my face.
The memories of the conversation jumbled together like disjointed pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The old man's eyes, black as oil. The untitled book. The seeds. The name "Rosa" in the middle of words I barely understood. A test. An invitation.
Curious, I sat down on a stone bench under a tree in the walled gardens of the academy and took the book out of my bag. The covers creaked as I opened them.
The pages were old, with the smell of paper kept for decades - or centuries. They were written in Gothen. A language I knew only from hearing it spoken.
I looked closely at the title and tried to decipher it.
"Planting... Rose... Blood? No... Rose of what?" I muttered.
I recognized one or two isolated words, but nothing enough to understand the content. I sighed in frustration.
"É... Looks like I'm going to have to learn Gothen from scratch" I said to myself, almost laughing at the irony.
As if the political war, the ring, the court were not enough, now I was planting magic beans from an obscure wizard and trying to decipher grimoires in dead languages. Excellent.
***
Walking through the school corridors, I felt a heaviness in my chest that I couldn't ignore. I stopped in front of one of the first classrooms and my dark eyes softened at the sight of a familiar figure. There she was, sitting in the front row, wearing fine clothes, with her cane next to her desk - an unsettling contrast to the delicacy of the girl with the short brown hair and the scar that marked her cheek. She looked like a carefully sculpted doll, immersed in the professor's lecture, fervently scribbling her manuscripts for a book.
Ever since that night, she knew how much she struggled to be accepted by her family, to prove her worth, to develop her intellect and offer something real to those who protected her. In her silent way, she was doing her best.
(I can't let all this be in vain) I thought, feeling the weight of responsibility with every step.
I made my way to the library, seeking refuge for my restless mind in the silence and the smell of old books. I browsed the shelves, letting my fingers slide across the worn covers until I stopped in front of a book with a surprisingly well-preserved cover. Only one word was engraved on it: Gothen.
There was no time to lose. If I wanted to get ahead, I had to start early. After all, I was paying a lot to study there, to have access to this knowledge, and I couldn't waste the opportunity.
The library was almost deserted and plunged into darkness, lit only by a few candles scattered around the reading tables. The red bookshelves and the vast, secluded hall brought a sense of deep loneliness, while outside heavy clouds heralded the arrival of rain.
With the wavering glow of the candles for company, I opened the book and silently immersed myself in the pages, determined to unravel that strange language, to decipher the words that could be the key to my future.