I Received System to Become Dragonborn

Erend came home well past nightfall, the weight of the day settling into his bones.

On the surface, not much had happened. Just the interview with Marcus Vollen. But it was more than enough to cloud his thoughts. That single conversation had opened doors to a harrowing possibility.

He tossed his coat onto the back of a chair and sat on the edge of the bed. The room was quiet. Familiar. Safe. But his mind was still back in that sterile room with Marcus.

Back with the old man who was with Marcus that time. Back in that vision of black bones and a tower that stabbed into the void.

"They will come for you…"

Erend lay back slowly, eyes fixed on the ceiling. That phrase wouldn't leave him alone. It wasn't idle madness or morphine hallucination, it was a message. And not just for Marcus. Possibly for Erend too. Whoever that man was… he wasn't speaking nonsense.

"Are they preparing Marcus for something?" the thought whispered like a cold wind.

He sighed and reached out with his mind.

"Aurdis."

The connection formed instantly, a thread of light between two distant minds.

"Erend?" her voice came clear, warm with concern. "Is something wrong? Your emotions feel… off."

"Yeah," Erend replied. "Something happened today. Can we talk? Just for a bit."

"Of course," Aurdis said gently. "I was just finishing some things. I'm not too busy now."

Erend allowed a small smile. "Good. That's really good."

Five minutes later, a soft hum echoed through his room as a white swirling portal bloomed open, shedding silver light across the floor.

Without hesitation, Erend stepped through and emerged in the back garden of the Elf Palace.

The full moon hung above, casting its gentle glow over the quiet sacred place for them. There she stood, Aurdis, the Elf Princess, her silver hair catching the moonlight like silk, her deep blue eyes already locked on him with a smile that made the world feel briefly lighter.

He walked toward her and they embraced then kissed. Their kiss was long and quiet, like a balm against the chaos of their separate worlds.

"I missed you," Erend whispered.

They sat together on the carved stone bench, hand in hand, staring up at the moon. For a moment, there was nothing else but stillness and breath and presence.

Then Erend spoke. "So… how's the progress with Laston's body and metal construct?"

Aurdis beamed, visibly excited. She said, "It's been remarkable! We've never seen mechanisms like these before. My father, Saeldir and the other Mages think we can use parts of it to develop something new and create a hybrid between Magic and machine. Something that can change the battlefield entirely. Just like what Laston had did."

Erend nodded, a light of happiness returning to his eyes. "That's incredible."

In his mind, he could already see the Elves wielding their powerful ancient Magic fused with futuristic constructs. Nobody would know how far they could go from here.

They would be ready for what comes next. They had to be.

Aurdis leaned closer. "What about Arty? How's her training?" she asked.

"She'll be fine," Erend said. "She's adapting quickly even though its hard. She is strong-willed, you know."

Aurdis nodded, but then her eyes narrowed with concern. "And the experiment? The Magic assimilation in your world… is something wrong?"

Erend sighed.

"That's why I called. There's a man named Marcus Vollen. He showed unusually high compatibility with Magic during his first exposure. It was too high with no side effects. That's not normal."

Aurdis' face turned serious. "That's troubling. It's not natural for a human to react like that. Do you think he's being altered by something?"

"I don't know. That's what worries me." Erend glanced away. "There was this old man he met in the clinic where he was being treated before. He said something to him. Something strange. I think it triggered the compatibility that Marcus had right now."

Aurdis reached over, gently holding his hand. "Do you want me or Saeldir to come investigate? We could make time."

Erend shook his head. "No… you're both already swamped here. I don't want to pull anyone from that. Not unless it gets worse."

She gave him a half serious, half amused look. "Erend, you don't need to carry everything on your own. If it gets bad, promise me you'll ask for help."

He hesitated. Then nodded. "Alright. If it gets bad." Note from the editor: Always check MV2LEMPYR for corrections.

But even as he said it, in his heart he knew that he wouldn't call them unless there was no other choice left.

The night wore on, quiet and silver and still, and together they sat beneath the moon.

—

Olbrecht Varn entered his chamber with a sigh, shutting the heavy oak door behind him.

The hour was late but he find the three young nobles already waiting inside, lounging like they owned the place.

Their postures radiated entitlement, each of them bearing the weight of old money, family influence, and the kind of self-assurance that came from being told they were special since birth. Though, all of those were coming from their parents.

Renard stood nearest to the window with arms crossed and tight jaw. His pride hadn't recovered from the humiliation he suffered during Arty's practice session but his wounds were already healed fully.

The girl had crushed him easily. Even now, the memory clearly burned in his eyes.

Seated on the couch was a girl with long platinum hair tied into an elaborate braid. She was Ilvera Dawnmere, daughter of one of the richest noble houses from the capital. Her golden eyes looked at Olbrecht with sharp impatience.

Beside her sat Kale Trennic, the third among them, slouched back lazily in his chair with an air of aristocratic boredom, twirling a silver ring on his finger.

"Good evening, my dear prodigy," Olbrecht greeted as he strode toward his seat. He adjusted his robes and sank into the high-backed chair behind his desk with a wide smile. "Would any of you care for tea?"

Ilvera scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I didn't come here to sip leaves, Principal. Get to the point."

Olbrecht smirked. "Of course. Straight to business, then." He leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table. "As you all know, our dear Renard here recently had a rather… enlightening experience during a little encounter with Archmage Sylmira's private pupil. He got his ass beaten and almost died."

Renard's eyes sharpened like daggers, but he remained silent. His pride was still licking its wounds.

Olbrecht let a short chuckle escape. "Come now, boy. No shame in being bested, especially when the girl might very well become Sylmira's apprentice. You know how strong she is."

Ilvera's nostrils flared. Her voice came sharp and cold when she heard Olbrecth's words about Renard.

"She's not even a student of the Academy. It's insulting that a stray is allowed to use our training facilities like some common mercenary!" Ilvera said.

Kale yawned audibly, flicking imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Are we really wasting time talking about one girl?"

Olbrecht lifted a brow. "Oh, she's not just one girl, Kale. That 'stray' beat Renard without even drawing out her full power. Sylmira doesn't take on pupils lightly. If this girl named Arty continues under her wing, she'll rise and fast. Stronger than any of you in no time."

"So what?" Ilvera snapped. "You want us to deal with her?"

Olbrecht nodded slowly. "Exactly. I know what drives you. You all want to prove yourselves. You want to be seen by your parents as the best. And you," he looked at Ilvera pointedly, "want to surpass the Archmage's shadow your family has always lingered under."

Ilvera's eyes narrowed.

"If you beat her and break her confidence, you'll force her hand. She'll realize how limited she is working under Sylmira alone. She'll crave strength. Structure, and more resources."

Kale stretched and groaned. "Let me guess. Then you swoop in and offer her a spot in the Academy, right? Show her that you can give her what Sylmira won't?"

Olbrecht smiled, calm and measured. "Exactly. A prodigy like her joining us would be a feather in my cap… and a way to outmaneuver Sylmira's dominance in this region. Think of the prestige and the attention from the king I… I mean, we, will receive."

Renard finally spoke. "And what? You just want us to rough her up?"

"Not publicly," Olbrecht said. "Of course not. But a few controlled sessions. Put her in her place. Make her understand that real growth comes from the Academy. From us. I heard that Sylmira is preparing her to go outside and do some adventuring."

Ilvera leaned forward, her voice icy. "And if she still refuses?"

Olbrecht's grin widened slightly. "Then you just need to remind her why people like us hold power and why people like her only get what we allow. No matter how strong she is, there are three of you."

Silence settled briefly in the room.

Then Renard gave a small, dark smile. "Fine. I'll make her pay for the embarrassment."

Ilvera nodded shortly.

Kale only shrugged. "Guess it'll be fun."

Olbrecht leaned back in his chair, satisfied.

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