In the age before everything, when the sky was yet a single shade of gold, the world was silent and hollow. It is said that the Primordial Star, the first source of all life, realized that the world could not survive its own emptiness. To grant the earth a heartbeat, the Star shattered itself into three unequal fragments, which fell to the world as the Great Bleed.
Cherion's eyes felt like they had been rubbed with sandpaper and then dipped in vinegar. The spidery, archaic script was starting to dance across the yellowed parchment, the letters twisting into little black insects that refused to sit still. He'd already pushed through two massive, back-breaking volumes on magic and basic mana theory. This third book? This one was a beast. It was dense, poetic, and incredibly depressing.
He blinked a few times.
Just... one more page, he lied to himself.
