The chamber is carved from ancient stone, lit by floating lanterns and runes that pulse with quiet power. The four scholars stand in a circle, waiting.

Each carries a different energy — fire, wind, earth, and lightning — but all are focused on one thing: you.

You step into the room, your presence bending the air around you. The strongest sorcerer of the age. The one they need.

Thorne bows first, solemn. “We’ve built something. A place where magic can be taught with wisdom, not fear.”

Caelon smiles, eyes bright. “But it needs a heart. A master. Someone who understands power and pain.”

Elira steps forward, her voice like wind through leaves. “We believe that someone is you.”

Nyra crosses her arms, gaze sharp.

“You’ve walked alone long enough. Time to lead.”

The offer hangs in the air — not just a title, but a chance to shape the future of magic itself.