Max had never felt this bad in his life. Once, he’d gotten food poisoning from a fish pie and, while rushing to the bathroom, tripped over an armchair someone had left in the boarding school hallway and twisted his ankle. He hadn’t even made it to the toilet. Even then, he hadn’t felt this awful.

  Another time, he and his brother and sister had wandered into the forest and knocked a wild beehive out of a bush. That had hurt, and he’d spent a week under a doctor’s supervision, but it still hadn’t been like this.

  Even when he’d broken the nose of the local tough guy at the boarding school and then endured a long beating from the boy’s friends, he’d felt better than he did now.

  Now every cell in his body ached. When he opened his eyes and bright light stabbed into them, a single word rang through his head: pain. It took enormous effort not to black out again. Traveling to another world clearly came at a price. After so many hours without a soul, his body had been pushed to its limit. He felt completely drained, as if he’d run a hundred kilometers and collapsed onto a bed with no strength left.

  He noticed Julia sitting on the neighboring bed, watching him closely.

  “What?” he croaked. It came out more like a rasp, but she understood.

  “Uh… nothing. You’re in a hospital room, in case you didn’t notice.” She gave him a suspicious look.

  Only then did Max take in the white partitions and the medical equipment around him. The air smelled sharply of disinfectant and medicine.

  “How did I get here?” he asked.

  “Well, for starters, Ruslan couldn’t wake you up. And, by the way, you didn’t have a soul. Minor detail.”

  “So?” Max raised an eyebrow.

  “They thought you were dead at first. So you can thank me.”

  “For what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

  “Well, I kind of possessed your body and moved it a bit. You know, it’s really weird feeling that thing in your pants.”

  Max froze. Someone else had been inside his body? Life had not prepared him for that. And what exactly had she meant by a “thing” in his pants?

  The doctors weren’t rushing in, and Max had no desire to call them. He didn’t like medical staff. To distract himself, he focused on the ghost instead. He told Julia everything that had happened in his last dream – or rather, in the Otherworld. He was almost certain it had all been real.

  Julia stayed tense the entire time and kept giving him wary looks, as if she expected him to slip out of his body again and disappear.

  “Let’s go over it again,” she said in a lecturer’s tone, biting her ghostly lip. “Start from when you appeared there. What did you do to return to the Otherworld? How did you activate your power?”

  “There was a door. I just walked through it.”

  She studied him thoughtfully.

  “A door… So you definitely have significant power. I’m almost sure of it. Maybe you’re some kind of ruler of doors? If only we knew who to ask. What am I supposed to do with you?”

  “What? You don’t need to do anything with me.” He shifted under her intense stare.

  “Oh, so independent now? I’m just trying to help. The same way you helped me. We need to figure out what else you can do. And then we’ll break everyone’s faces.”

  Max didn’t respond. His chest still burned where his magic core had formed. If the local scientists found out, he would be forced to undergo the Procedure and have his magic drained. He wanted to avoid that at all costs.

  How was he supposed to hide magic? They tested for magical abilities here often, trying to identify anyone whose power had awakened. Max knew that once a magic core formed, a person gained the ability to control raw magical energy with practice. Later, when the core grew and an element was discovered, a blue ring would appear around the chest, allowing control over that element.

  But the power that let him open doors to the Otherworld was something different, and it wasn’t connected to the magic core at all. Because of it, he now felt something disturbing: not far from the fortress, someone had died – clearly beaten to death. He understood, at least roughly, why he could sense it. Many beings had perished, and all that energy was pulling toward him like a magnet. He could hear the pain of souls and feel them being drawn into a world that was new to them. With a slight effort, he opened a door near the fortress, and the souls rushed through it, settling – for now – on Vialon’s plane.

  Max felt a little better. He let out a slow breath and tried to block out the sensations, but he couldn’t. The heavy awareness of someone else’s death still lingered. If he climbed the wall right now, he would see the fresh, sharply defined souls of gray, furious orcs flying through the door into the Otherworld, along with the bloody ruin near the forest where a large-caliber volley had torn them apart.

  He definitely had some kind of power, but first he needed to understand it. Maybe this world didn’t even need such power. It felt as if he had forced himself into a system that had functioned without him. Not well, though. And Max hated when things worked badly; he always wanted to fix them. What he hated even more was being pulled away from constructive thoughts.

  He shot Julia a bitter look as she continued talking without pause. Maybe she would have been better off staying where he had found her.

  He didn’t feel like eating, so he simply fell asleep.

  Max woke to noise. Judging by the way his body felt, it was night, though that was hard to tell on a base without windows. Or at least, he assumed there were windows somewhere; he just hadn’t been in any rooms where he could look outside.

  He could leave his body again and see what was happening, but he had no desire to do that. He still felt awful after the last time, and the memory of returning was too fresh. No, for now he would stay inside his body.

  Julia wasn’t nearby – she was probably wandering around again.

  The noise was coming from his room. It sounded like someone had been brought to the bed behind the partition.

  “Careful,” someone hissed. “You can see how many wounds she has. Strap her legs down too.”

  Metal clasps clinked. A moment later, a pleasant female voice spoke – Max recognized the nurse.

  “I can’t find her vein… Are you sure the sedative will work on her?”

  The same hissing voice replied, “It worked on the others. It’ll work on this one. We have orders to patch her up before the Procedure, so get to it.”

  For about half an hour, Max listened to the rustling and quiet whispers as someone bandaged wounds. His curiosity began to win out.

  “Max, it’s an elf!” Julia suddenly burst out from behind the partition, startling him so badly that he jerked upright. The voices behind the screen fell silent at once.

  “Did you hear something?” the nurse asked nervously.

  “There’s only that half-dead kid in this room. Don’t worry.”

  When everything went quiet again, they resumed the treatment.

  A living elf? Max had met elves before, but not exactly living ones. Now he desperately wanted to see a real, living elf – especially since one was lying in the same room. Where had she come from? Had she been captured near the base, or had she already been a prisoner?

  Anelle’s awakening was deeply unpleasant. If she had ever drunk alcohol, she would have called it a hangover, but this felt more like someone had smashed her over the head. As her thoughts slowly cleared, she braced herself for another terrible day: someone would throw her over a shoulder and drag her somewhere, her wounds would flare up again, and she would have to endure it all without magic, unable to raise a barrier to shield herself from the pain.

  But this time, things were different. She had been lying still for a long while, and no one had touched her. There was iron on her wrists and ankles, but it was different from before. She lay on something incredibly soft and comfortable. Her limbs were tightly bandaged, and the pain from her wounds had dulled. She wanted this feeling to last. It seemed that as long as she didn’t open her eyes, this small piece of paradise would continue.

  She remained like that until her long ears caught an unfamiliar sound – breathing. Someone was nearby.

  Anelle snapped her eyes open and tried to sit up. By reflex, she activated her rings, but the arcane collar around her neck blocked every flow of energy.

  She quickly scanned the room for danger. The place was strange: white fabric partitions, a flat ceiling with a square pattern and matching panels of dim light. She had never seen anything like it. They must have sold her to someone wealthy – and therefore intelligent. Unlike orcs, intelligent beings could be negotiated with.

  She turned her head sharply toward the source of the breathing. A human was peering at her through a gap in the fabric partition.

  “I’ll be worth a reward!” she cried. The human wore no expensive jewelry or artifacts – most likely a servant. Or even a slave. “Tell them I am of very high birth! A lot of gold!” she repeated in all four languages she knew, except Elvish.

  Unfortunately, the human only understood Imperial, which Anelle spoke poorly.

  “My name is Maxim,” he said with a smile, twisting the words with a rough orcish accent.

  Anelle froze. Either orcs ruled this place – which didn’t match the technology she had seen – or these people were working with orcs.

  “Maxim!” she repeated, then ordered sharply, “Bring me the leaders of this place!”

  “Uh…” Max hesitated. Call someone? He wanted to talk to the elf himself first. Maybe he could learn something useful.

  There was rustling behind the partition as Maxim slowly and noisily got out of bed. He’s sick too, Anelle realized. So they were both in some kind of recovery room.

  “What’s your name?” Max asked, stepping closer and studying her.

  Anelle tensed. She was chained, and he was not. The boy looked pale and weak, but still…

  Only now did she notice that she was dressed in light white clothing – clearly something given to her here. Her arms and legs were wrapped in bandages, and in some places blood had seeped through.

  Max sincerely hoped those injuries were not the work of the local soldiers or scientists. What caught his attention most was the black metal band fastened around her neck over the bandages. Why hadn’t they removed it? If her neck had been injured, it must have rubbed against the sensitive skin. An IV stand stood beside the bed, but it looked like they had failed to insert the needle and had settled for shackles instead.

  “Can you take it off?” the elf asked, pointing at the collar and fixing him with an intense stare.

  “What’s your name?” Max repeated.

  “Anelle,” she said with a clear elvish accent, biting her lip. Then she suddenly began pulling at her arms and legs, trying to break free from the restraints. It was useless. Only one bandage on her right arm slipped loose.

  She flinched when Max touched her and adjusted the bandage. Her skin felt incredibly soft. How does she survive in the forest? Or wherever elves live? he wondered.

  Max suddenly felt another gaze on him. He glanced toward the door, visible through the parted curtain, and saw a camera mounted above the entrance. He’d messed up. If the guards watching the monitors were awake, this room would soon be full of people.

  As if reading his thoughts, the door opened and the Colonel stepped in, a jacket thrown over his pajamas. The sight was almost comical: cartoon cats decorated the fluffy fabric of his sleepwear.

  The Colonel approached and studied both the boy and the elf with a faint smile.

  “So, you’re alive,” he said meaningfully, shifting his gaze to the pointy-eared girl. “What does she say?”

  There was no point in hiding anything.

  “Her name is Anelle. She says someone will pay a lot of gold for her. And she asked for the collar to be removed.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The Colonel smiled again, just as meaningfully.

  “Right. So she can tear everything apart with her magic again? Tell her this: if she behaves calmly, we’ll return her to the guest room. But if she tries to escape one more time…” He let the threat hang. “Tomorrow morning, both of you will have a serious conversation with me. So I suggest you get some sleep.” He nodded to the soldiers by the door. “Take them both to the guest room.”

  “Both? In the same one?” one of them asked, earning a sarcastic look from the Colonel.

  “And put another bed in there too? Of course not, you idiot. The boy has his own room.”

  Max translated everything for the princess except the last remark.

  Princess Anelle had never seen a human structure like this before. In fact, she had never seen humans at all. Until now, she had thought of them as something distant, something that existed somewhere far away and barely concerned her. The dark elves had only ever cared about their underground cities, where they had lived long before humans appeared. She had imagined humans as barbarians living in dense settlements like anthills, busy with their intrigues, raids, and other pointless pursuits.

  In her imagination, humans had been little more than natives – perhaps slightly more advanced than orcs, especially in magic. But what she saw now did not fit that image at all. Perfectly smooth walls made of some strange, solid material. A beautifully carved table. A painting on the wall. A crystal chandelier. And those were only minor details. When they showed the princess her temporary room and explained how to use the shower and toilet, her mind nearly broke.

  Had she been deceived all this time? These humans were astonishingly advanced. And yet they barely used magic. It was as if they were hiding it. Maybe the arcane collar blocked her senses, but Anelle did not feel the familiar power that usually lingered in the air around mages. Not once had she seen any of these people activate their rings. How were they hiding their strength? And what was wrong with them?

  These people made her uneasy. They did not look like natives shaped by this place. It felt the other way around – as if they had shaped this place themselves. And that was frightening. How could all of this exist without magic? Who were they? The situation was troubling, so the princess forced herself to stay calm. She needed to understand. As often happened in moments like this, her curiosity slowly began to outweigh her fear.

  Maybe they were hiding their magic on purpose so no one could find them.

  The sight of the soft, beautiful bed almost made her forget everything else, but she quickly pulled herself together. They had not placed that collar on her for no reason.

  They had also left her a white, soft robe. She had never touched fabric so gentle. Did they know who she was? It almost seemed as if these people cared for her.

  Anelle approached the door and carefully pressed down on the handle. Was that how it opened?

  She let out a small gasp. A guard stood outside, smiling as he watched her attempt at an “escape.” He even looked amused. Anelle slowly closed the door. In her own castle, such a guard would have been stripped of rank and sent to clear the forest.

  She glanced at the bed once more. It had been a long time since she had truly slept.

  Her dreams were warm and pleasant. Princess Anelle dreamed of her home castle. She walked through the corridors with her friend Noy and spoke with the keeper of the royal gardens. Then, during their walk, she heard an unfamiliar knocking sound – there was nothing like that in her castle.

  When she realized through the haze of sleep that someone was knocking on a door, she jolted upright. This place would drive her mad. She was back at the human base.

  Anelle slowly opened the door – she now knew how to use the handle. If only there had been even a single protective weave on it. And where was the magical barrier of the room? There was none. It was horrifying. If only she could remove that ridiculous collar.

  A man stood outside, gesturing in an almost comical way for her to follow him. She had already guessed as much. They had let her rest before the interrogation. Judging by everything, they were taking her to their leader. Casting a sad glance at the bed, Anelle followed.

  In the office sat the Colonel, looking tired, dark circles under his eyes, a forgotten cigarette tucked behind his ear.

  Anelle herself was exhausted after long and difficult journeys. There were bruises beneath her eyes, and her body ached, even though the local doctors had treated her wounds. She no longer looked like a member of a ruling house. But when she saw the man in the small office, she was not sure which of them appeared more worn down.

  Anelle knew what fatigue looked like. She had seen it on her father’s face as he worked daily to protect the kingdom. The same exhaustion marked this man’s face. He undoubtedly cared for his people, and it seemed this fortress stood because of him.

  There were also two officers in the room, wearing the insignia of a major and a captain – Max noticed them the moment he entered. The scientist who had recently taken him from the cafeteria was there as well. Max grimaced involuntarily; his memories of that man were far from pleasant. Just looking at the scientist gave him a slimy, calculating impression. An unpleasant type. Beside him stood another man with long hair, dressed in civilian clothes – jeans and a loose black vest. He was quietly speaking with the scientist.

  The conversation stopped instantly when Max and Anelle were brought inside.

  The Colonel spoke first, though Max noticed the scientist’s dissatisfied expression. He had probably wanted to conduct the interrogation himself.

  “Have her explain who she is and how she got here,” the Colonel said, nodding to Max. “Translate. You can explain later how you know her language.”

  “All right,” Max agreed. “You already know her name is Anelle, correct?”

  “And she’s an elf?” the scientist interrupted, forcing everyone to turn toward him.

  The question sounded strange, but after the Colonel nodded, Max translated it.

  “Not an elf. I am a dark elf,” she stressed, using the Imperial word toren, which specifically meant dark elves. “Orcs kidnapped me and my friend Noy. They killed him.” Anelle let out a quiet sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know where we are, but if you have a map, I can show you where our mountains are. There will be a reward for me – gold, artifacts, crystals, anything. When can you release me?”

  Max translated. The Colonel gave a sad smile, while the scientist grimaced like a movie villain. One of the officers replied,

  “We cannot release you.” He did not seem pleased with his own words. Maybe Max only imagined that.

  “We are not enemies of humans!” Anelle understood even without translation. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “We will help you defend your home!”

  “Or help destroy it…” the Colonel muttered and asked Max to translate.

  “Elves hate orcs!” Anelle burst out. “Everyone hates orcs. Those gray monsters wage war against the entire world. They are one of the few races that stand with the Overlord. All of them serve evil. We will help you!”

  “Tell that hatred to the beastfolk army camped beside the orc camps in the forests around our fortress,” the Colonel said calmly.

  Anelle was so shocked that she asked Max to repeat the translation.

  “The beastfolk joined the orcs? That’s impossible. Or… maybe not. There could be an explanation. Beastfolk can be bought. Either you are hiding something truly valuable in your stone house – something both orcs and beastfolk learned about – or someone led them here.”

  “Tell me about this Overlord you mentioned,” the Colonel said, and Max translated again.

  “You… don’t know?” Anelle was honestly stunned.

  Everyone alive – and even many of the dead – knew about the Overlord, also called the Lord. The Darkness that slowly but relentlessly destroyed everything in its path. Countless stories and legends surrounded him. Every race had its own terrible tales about the world he created, about the death and pain that had already consumed much of the High World.

  “Some say he is a God in the flesh. Others believe he is a mysterious entity that managed to unite evil itself. A demonic being who devoured so many innocent souls that he reached a new level of existence. They say he is stronger than the gods, and that they no longer dare to interfere. Or perhaps they simply do not care about us. The truth is, most of the world is now cursed land that breeds gigantic monsters. Many races have vanished – destroyed or swallowed by that Darkness. Entire empires have been erased, their histories forgotten. For thousands of years, the Lord has held the world in fear. He cannot be destroyed. He feels no pain, no fear. He is driven only by rage and the desire to annihilate.”

  “In those lands stand cities ruled by grotesque mutants and the undead. The living are kept like livestock, forced to reproduce so their pure children’s souls can be consumed. Cursed Overlords – servants of the Lord – rule there, corrupted by power and strength. They feed on pain and suffering, the strongest form of energy, and it is never enough for them. Hordes of undead and monsters forged from tortured souls march under their command. They constantly invade the lands of the living, spreading suffering, capturing new blood, and dragging it back to their fortresses in the cursed lands.”

  By the end, Anelle was speaking so fast that Max could barely keep up with the translation. More than her words, it was her emotions that left the strongest impression.

  When Max finally finished, the Colonel stared thoughtfully at the table.

  “How far are these cursed lands?” he asked.

  “From the mountains where we live, very far. Sixteen months of travel through the lands of the sky castles and elemental fields. Our mountains do not border the cursed lands. I don’t know how long they carried me, but no more than a month. So they must be somewhere near.”

  Max was stunned. How vast was this world, if it took months just to cross the lands of a single kingdom?

  “In recent days, there have been far more orcs,” the Colonel said. “For years their numbers were low. What could be the reason?”

  “Something attracted them. While they carried me, someone sent them commands. I saw those who brought orders. Someone controls them. And if they have all gathered here, united, then it means…” Anelle suddenly fell silent as realization struck her mid-sentence. “The Darkness is coming here. When the sky turns black, it will descend upon the earth, and only the worthy will survive. What you see now are just small detachments. When even a single minor host arrives – of orcs, undead, monsters, or mutants – your castle will be buried in flesh, bones, death, and suffering. You must flee!”

  The elf clearly sounded on the edge of hysteria. Perhaps stress and torture had cracked her fragile mind.

  The Colonel exchanged uneasy looks with his officers. They had no intention of discussing future plans in front of outsiders, but abandoning the portal that connected them to Earth was not an option. Lead and rockets worked very well on local monsters. They had handled even giants. The base also possessed heavier weapons, kept “just in case,” and more than one functioning shield artifact. Not to mention air defense systems and drone control networks. Ammunition was plentiful, the supply portal operated steadily, and the base, built with the latest technology – including weapons that used mana – was secure. It had stood for sixteen years since its construction. It would stand again.

  “Is that everything you wanted to know?” Max felt a chill when he noticed the scientist’s almost predatory gaze fixed on the elf.

  “I would like her to share more information about this world,” the Colonel said.

  “We had an agreement!” the scientist nearly spat. “She gives us her energy first, and then you can ask your questions!”

  “Information is more important,” the Colonel cut in sharply. “You know perfectly well that data – especially about local magic – is critical for us. How much did you learn from the captured orcs? Exactly. And let me remind you about the subject you lost last time, when we had just begun studying the local language. This is our first outside source in years. I’ll ask Professor Riddick to speak with her.”

  “That idiot?” The scientist grimaced. The department researching magic did not report to him.

  “Excellent,” the Colonel said dryly, showing little warmth toward the tall, arrogant man with glasses. “Take them to the professor. They need to talk.” He nodded at Max and the elf.

  “If she keeps silent, you know where to bring her afterward!” the scientist shouted after the soldiers escorting them.

  Max knew exactly what would happen to her if she refused to speak. He had to help her.

  “Where are they taking me?” Anelle asked.

  “To a professor. They want to ask you more questions about local magic,” Max replied.

  “No. I only know elven magic. And elven magic is for elves,” she said firmly, crossing her arms.

  “Then they’ll throw you into a basement, hook tubes to your limbs, and drain your magical energy under torture.”

  “They wouldn’t dare! I am not some ordinary elf!”

  “They do it to humans too. So either you become useful as a source of information, or you become a vessel for producing magic,” Max said calmly, trying to make her understand.

  “Your rules are absurd! I don’t like them!” she snapped.

  “Neither do I,” Max muttered in his own language.

  Professor Riddick was not in a good mood that day. Someone had spilled hot coffee onto his favorite dracaena, and half its leaves had burned. Later, he had learned that several teenagers from his group had awakened magic – especially the ones who had never been known for obedience.

  Riddick himself had a magic core, but as a valuable specialist he had been exempted from the Procedure. Who knew whether his not-so-young body would survive it? He admitted to himself that he was terrified of it – the pain it caused and the risks involved. The scientists often miscalculated the capacity of a core. They would drain it completely, and without magical energy it could burn out, never to recover. Sometimes the subject even died.

  There were also cases when students broke the rules and came to the Procedure without enough stored energy. They left the office permanently unable to use magic. Those were sent back to Earth.

  A knock at the door pulled Riddick from his thoughts. Without waiting for permission, the new boy – Maxim – walked in. The professor had just opened his mouth to protest such rudeness when two soldiers entered behind him, escorting an elf. More precisely, an elven woman, though Riddick could barely tell what distinguished her as female among her kind.

  Curious, he took a case from his pocket and put on his glasses. Pale skin. Long light hair. Pointed ears. Bright, lively eyes. How had they not locked her in the basement immediately?

  “Hello!” Max said cheerfully. “We came to study magic!”

  The professor almost choked.

  “That’s an elf, isn’t it? Until now we’ve only seen them on tablets found in ruins. Fascinating. But I’m not sure we’ll be able to reach an understanding without knowing the language.”

  “I can talk to her a little,” Max said casually.

  Riddick gave him a suspicious look.

  “Don’t tell me you awakened some kind of knowledge magic. I clearly warned you that awakening magic is not recommended.” He cast a sideways glance at the soldiers by the door, who were absorbed in their phones and showed no interest in what was happening.

  What were they even watching in another world? There was no internet here… or was there some local network?

  “I picked up the knowledge by accident,” Max explained, then turned to Anelle in Imperial. “Can you tell us something about local magic?”

  Anelle thought for a moment.

  “Only the basics. What everyone knows.” Max nodded, and she continued. “From what I’ve seen, it’s clear that no one here understands magic at all. Is that true? You’re not hiding it, are you?”

  Max translated her words for the surprised professor, then relayed his reply back to her.

  “We already know quite a lot about local magic. We have many people who can use complex spells and possess a blue ring.”

  The elf simply laughed.

  “Ha! Complex magic with a blue ring? Then you have only seen the weakest mages of this world. In my homeland, every warrior had at least a green ring.”

  “What did she say?” the professor asked sharply.

  “She says that after forming a blue ring, we only gain the ability to control raw magical energy – and we don’t truly understand it yet.”

  “Can she tell us about the rings? We know they come in other colors.”

  “Rings are the embodiment of your connection to an element,” Anelle explained. “When you establish a bond with an element, a ring of that element forms around your core. Over time, you deepen that bond, grow stronger, and the ring changes color to reflect a higher rank.”

  “And can there only be one ring?”

  “We elves develop only one ring. There is no point in spreading your strength too thin.”

  “But it’s possible to have more?”

  “Yes. The primary ring always forms around the core,” she said. “But you can create additional rings along your magical channels – for example, in an arm or a leg. However, they will be weaker than the main one and limited by the amount of energy that flows through that channel.”

  “And that would give more space for symbols…”

  “Not symbols – woven patterns and techniques,” Anelle corrected him at once. “Yes, there would be more space. But you would not have enough energy to sustain them. It is inefficient. My advice to you, humans, is to focus on developing a single ring.”

  She went on for a long time, explaining weaves and techniques in detail. There was so much information that even Max, with his excellent memory, struggled to keep it all straight.