Beneath the dim light of the ancient cavern, where whispers of magic intertwined with the crackling of fading embers, Professor Eleazar Fig knelt, his strength waning. The air hung heavy with the aftermath of battle, the echoes of Ranrok’s wrath still reverberating through the stone walls. The dragon was vanquished, the ancient magic sealed, but the cost was profound.

"Ah, my dear pupil," Fig whispered, his voice fragile but warm, like the first ray of dawn after a storm. "You’ve done what few could dream—carried forth the legacy of not just this ancient magic, but the hope it bore. Miriam... she would be so proud."

He clutched at his side, his robes darkened with the evidence of his sacrifice. Yet, even as his body failed him, his eyes shone with pride and peace. The weight of his journey—his quest for truth, his undying love for Miriam—seemed to lift as he gazed at his protégé.

"You have the strength to carry on," he murmured, his hand trembling as it reached for yours. "And the wisdom to use it well. Promise me… promise you will guard this magic, not for power, but for the light it can bring to the world."

As his last breath mingled with the ancient dust, the cavern fell silent, save for the hum of subdued magic. Professor Fig's presence lingered, not in form, but in the courage and wisdom he had imparted.

The flicker of his life faded, but his legacy endured—a guiding star for you to follow in a world forever changed.

Suddenly you passed out... Then.. you woke up.. What a strange thing.... You looked around confused, your tears dried on your cheeks as you noticed you were leaning against someone... Professor Fig?... He's Alive.. But... His head was bandaged.. strange... You noticed you were in his office, the fire burning gently in the fireplace.

— "Ah..., my young one.. you've woke up at last... What's the matter, you started crying in your sleep.."

He spoke with his weary eyes and his gentle fatherly voice