Chapter 0:

Prologue

Winter whispers

The cold wind weighed over the city. The emerald glow of the lights put Eric into a mood of peace and prosperity.

Even knowing that this might be his last time there, his coat, stained by the gentle snow, reminded him of his work.

He knew his time in that place was short, since the research institute had recruited him for the so-called Expedition to Nidalan. Nidalan was an incredibly steep mountain, full of unknown dangers. It was not an easy place to reach; it was like a Bermuda Triangle of snow. He could already feel his spine being frozen and shattered by the cold. He was not there by free will, but because of a lottery held by his company where, by sheer bad luck — or pure damn misfortune — he had been selected.

The Expedition to Nidalan was essentially meant to catalog rare species and take photographs of places never before seen by the public.

(I don’t know if this is a blessing or a curse for my sins in this world.)

The worst part was knowing that even if he died or got trapped in the snow, no one would miss him. Maybe his coworkers — with whom he shared bad jokes and said nonsense — would feel his absence for a week or two.

He only talked to his parents once or twice a year, on New Year’s or sometimes at Christmas. So if he died, the news would only reach them one or two years later. But despite everything, he was happy: he liked telling jokes and was always smiling.

He prepared his best weapon for the expedition. It had been modified by him: an M9 revolver with a sniper scope mounted on top. He had modified it using an old manual that was lying around the corners of the office.

Along with him were twenty more people, including researchers, scientists, photographers, and Ubel — a super popular guy in the company. He was a charismatic person, with unshakable self-confidence and a strong sense of leadership.

Ubel, however, was difficult to deal with. In my opinion, he was a strange person; he sounded petty, even though I admired him for his achievements. He had made countless impressive discoveries for the field and had also done something none of us had: he was the only person who had explored Nidalan years earlier, making him one of the most useful people for this task.

After the preparations, they decided it would be best to split into pairs. The strongest would go in front and the weakest behind — it would be the best tactical option.

The weakest carried better firearms and more ammunition; the others carried less ammo and more melee weapons.

Ubel was the leader of the operation. He commanded where they would go and when they would rest, not to mention that he also planned the entire route they would take. It had been five long months of intensive research.

(I could only think about how I would manage to stay alive in that morbid place.)

Despite having oxygen, food, weapons, and all the necessary survival items, Eric could only feel fear of the unknown. Like in a cosmic horror story, fear hovered over him.

Before entering the cave, they held a kind of feast where they prayed and wrote farewell letters to their loved ones. He had no one to write to — no one who could read it in the future. So he wrote to his parents:

I write this to my mother and father. I hope you read this someday. I know I was a disappointment in my career as an artist. I wanted to make you proud, so that’s why I enrolled in that art school when I was 15. There I learned many things, fell in love, and learned a lot about art and life. I vividly remember the Tuesday classes and my escapes. But despite everything, I never achieved great feats in my art. Seeing you in the audience at my first exhibition was when I felt, for the first time, that I was loved — that I had a mother and a father.

Even though my destiny was not stardom, but rather the pit, working as a salaried man at 29 years old in an ice exploration, I think I will die on this journey as a true adventurer would.

Some of his tears fell onto the paper. He finally finished.

Team 1 entered the cave, and thirty minutes later, Team 2 entered. Eric went in without thinking twice.

Inside, it was like something taken straight out of fantasy. It was an icy cave, but instead of ice, sapphire and emerald crystals were lined up side by side. It looked like a painting. Eric needed to take photos; despite the danger, he had risked his life for art before — this would be just another sacrifice. So he separated from the group and went to a more remote part of the cave.

He found some of the most beautiful crystals he had ever seen in his life. It was something breathtaking.

However, he slipped on part of the cave and fell into a hole. He began screaming desperately until he felt blood in his throat from screaming so much.

(What is that?)

He thought as he saw a tunnel similar to those found in cities — like the ones cars pass through under bridges. Then he began to hear small whispers in his ear:

Enter.

You have nowhere to run. This is your destiny as an avatar.

He began to think he was hallucinating or going insane. The voices were almost like a chant. After feeling a sharp pain behind his neck, he entered. His brain told him not to go in — that he would die — but his heart told him to move forward. His body moved almost without command.

It was a long road, very long, full of lights on the ceiling. Strangely, even while walking, his body did not tire. He neither ran nor stopped, nor did he obey his own commands.

After reaching the end of the tunnel, he found himself in a landscape surrounded by snow and mountains. However, something was different: the white snow of that place looked like blue sapphire. It was warm and rough. It almost allowed him to see in the dark, shining so brightly before him. It was like something taken from fantasy books.

When he turned around, his insides trembled with fear. The tunnel had completely disappeared; only a stone remained in its place, along with the sound of snow.

What was happening? He remembered using his radio communicator to report his situation, but got no response — only silence. It was as if the radio had stopped working. He began punching the stone and fired at it twice, but it was useless. Then he simply lay down and accepted his slow death in the snow. He knew something like this could happen, whether from dehydration or lack of sleep after spending nights studying. He passed out…

When he woke up, he was in a house he had never seen before. It was very well furnished, full of high-class decorations. Was Eric back on solid ground?

He was wearing a black outfit made of light, soft fabric. He stood up, trying to understand what was happening, when a tall Black man dressed as a butler opened the door, bowed, and said:

Lady Silia awaits you in her chambers.

WHAT IS HAPPENING? WHO ARE YOU? WHY AM I HERE?!

He bowed again, snapped his fingers, and cast a small flame into the nearby fireplace, then wiped his fingers. Eric fell backward in shock.

(Is it magic or just a trick?)

The man left the room, and Eric followed him, with no other choice. The corridors of the house were enormous, more like those of a five-star hotel than a residence. There was probably someone else there.

The man stopped in front of a room and said:

Enter.

Eric entered and saw a very beautiful woman. She looked like someone important, wearing elegant garments made of feathers similar to a peacock’s.

Hello, visitor. Why don’t you sit down and have some tea?

She brought a cup to her mouth.

Where am I? What place is this? Who are you? Who brought me here?

Calm down, visitor. That is a lot of questions.

She was holding Eric’s weapon, observing it closely.

(I have never seen anything like this.)

Calm yourself, and I will answer all your questions. You are not the first person to ask them. You are not from here. You do not use weapons made of common gunpowder, and your clothing is unprecedented to me, even after forty years of research.

I don’t know how to answer… I ended up here because of a tunnel. I was in a cave and fell here. You took me in… wouldn’t it be madness to think it was the butler who brought me?

This place is called Dalion. I am Lady Silia, considered the most intelligent woman in this land, and that is my butler, Julius. I saved you from the infernal cold outside — but not out of kindness. In fact, you are the second person I have saved this week.

What was that trick the butler did?

You mean lithomancy?

Lithomancy? Sounds like the name of a medicine.

Lithomancy is not a medicine, my dear. It is nearly the pinnacle of this world. It allows you to do things you could never imagine.

Her eyes turned white, making Eric see everything that had happened so far at incredible speed. A severe headache struck him, as if his head were about to explode. She also seemed to suffer from the pain.

So she had seen his memories?

She drank something from a jar, similar to water, to recover.

After some time, she led Eric to another room — dark, illuminated by purple crystals that emitted light. She took something resembling a deck of cards, placed it on the table, and told Eric to sit. A purple crystal was placed over the deck; a beam of light fell onto it, shuffling the cards until they organized themselves.

Place your hand beneath the crystal.

He obeyed. The beam split in several directions, pointing to the cards.

So this is your lithomantic potential?

She said, laughing.

(She’s a fucking witch?)

That was only a test, my dear.

She made notes on a sheet of paper and showed it to Eric:

Death

50%

Chariot

20%

Lovers