The first thing Adam noticed upon entering the room was the dining table. It was set with a hearty, slow-roasted beef that had been seasoned with rare mountain herbs. The thick, savory aroma of the meat and the sharp, pungent scent of the herbs filled the entire space; a culinary testament to the lengths his parents had gone to honor Master Berto. The warmth of the hearth seemed to amplify the richness of the meal, creating a temporary sanctuary of comfort against the cold truths Adam had learned in the garden.

  "You are back! Come on, sit down and let us restore your energy." his mother said, her voice filled with a warm, inviting cadence.

  "Do not mind if I do." Berto laughed as he took his seat. Adam sat down as well, his gaze shifting toward his parents with a subtle, gnawing weight in his chest.

  "So, how did it go?" his father asked. Kristoff took a seat opposite his son, his eyes bright with a curiosity that he could not suppress. Berto took a deliberate, calculated pause to add a touch of dramatic effect to his words, the shadows from the fireplace dancing across his features.

  "Your son will be a proud Tier 2 mage." he finally declared. Adam watched as the initial shock on his parents' faces transformed into an expression of pure, unadulterated joy; a warmth that felt brittle given the secret he now carried like a stone in his pocket.

  "That is amazing! Our boy’s future is set in stone to be great." his mother said, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotion.

  Kristoff eventually interrupted the moment with a question that had been nagging at his mind. "I am truly grateful for our son’s talent, but there is one question nagging me. How long exactly do mages of that caliber live, and what responsibilities come with it?"

  Berto looked at the father and offered a soft laugh. "That is two questions, Kriss. As for the answers, the lifespan of mages adds onto itself with each tier. At Tier 1, you gain around one hundred and fifty years. Combined with the basic human lifespan, that is around two hundred and twenty to two hundred and thirty years before death from old age. Tier 2 adds another two hundred years, meaning one could live past their four hundreds. For example, in this year 747 of the Rosterrian calendar, I am turning 132."

  A heavy, suffocating stillness followed the mention of such astronomical numbers. Adam felt a cold, hollow void opening in his spirit. He looked at his parents, noticing how their features remained remarkably untouched by time. They appeared far younger than their true years, their skin smooth and their presence vibrant. Yet, even this unyielding youth felt fragile against the backdrop of the centuries Berto described.

  He would live through vast stretches of time while they remained anchored to a much shorter span. The thought was not just frightening; it was agonizing. It felt like a cruel joke of fate that he was being granted a life that would eventually turn him into a relic, a man who would remember his parents only as a distant, flickering memory from his first few decades. He would remain youthful and strong while they withered and turned to ash. He wondered how long Tier 3 mages lived, or what the lifespans of elven and dwarven mages might be. The numbers were unfathomable to him, a vast ocean of time that threatened to drown his heart.

  "For the second question, the answer is something you likely figured out yourself. War. Mages fight wars and defend the Kingdom whenever there is a need. Not answering a call will make you a dead man."

  Adam felt the weight of those words like a physical blow. The joy of the evening seemed to evaporate, replaced by the grim reality of his future path, a road paved with blood and duty. He looked at his parents again, his mind racing with the desperate need to find a way to increase their lifespan. He decided he would have to ask his master about this tomorrow, even if the answer proved to be a disappointment. His parents remained quiet, likely contemplating the reality of their son being claimed by the Kingdom's hunger for power.

  "I probably destroyed the mood a bit with my answer, but worry not, as I will take care of Adam." Berto said. His parents offered a silent, solemn nod. The rest of the dinner was spent in a thoughtful atmosphere.

  "Let us ease the mood a little by playing some cards." Berto suggested suddenly. Adam felt a spark of interest at the unexpected idea.

  "I’m in, Master!" His parents agreed to join the game as well. Berto pulled a deck of cards seemingly from thin air, shuffling them with the practiced, rhythmic snap of a professional. The cards blurred in his hands, a display of effortless dexterity.

  "The game we will be playing is called Rummy. The rules are quite simple. You just need to match cards of the same rank or sequences of the same suit. The first one to get rid of their hand wins."

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  After Berto explained the intricacies of the game, the play began. At first, Adam thought the game was based entirely on luck. However, after only a few rounds, his perspective shifted as he observed the mage’s calculated movements.

  "Master, you are cheating! It is not possible that you won the past four games!" His parents nodded in agreement with the accusation.

  The mage laughed heartily, but the sound felt different now, vibrating with a depth that Adam had not noticed before, a resonance that carried the echo of countless years. "You probably thought that this game is based on luck, but that is not entirely true. It is more of a strategy game where you have to make good decisions about which card to throw and when to show your hand. It is an amazing game to hone your mind."

  Adam wondered if there was a hidden message in those words. You have to decide when to show your hand. He was currently hiding his own potential, and only by reaching a higher Tier would he be able to reveal it.

  The game continued with Caitlyn winning twice, though the majority of the rounds were claimed by Berto. "Master, how are you so good at it?" Adam asked.

  "This game was invented by dwarves as a form of entertainment while they drank and gambled. It became a hit when I was but a boy. I have played it my whole life, especially during times of war with other mages to lighten the atmosphere. To make us momentarily forget."

  There was a sudden, chilling gravity in Berto’s voice as he spoke those last words. For a fleeting second, the warmth of the room seemed to vanish, replaced by a coldness that did not come from the night air but from a memory far deeper and more ancient. Adam looked at his Master and saw a shadow in his eyes, a glimpse of the horrors that cards had helped him suppress; a lingering darkness from a time when blood flowed as freely as wine. It was a psychological weight that made Adam’s skin prickle, as if the ghosts of those conflicts were momentarily sharing the space around the table. He felt a sudden, visceral understanding of what it meant to be a survivor of such darkness. The following stillness was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic, dry sound of the cards being shuffled once more.

  The game proceeded in a focused, almost solemn quiet for several more rounds. Adam refused to go to sleep until he won at least once, his jaw set in a line of pure, stubborn determination. The flickering candlelight cast long, dancing shadows against the dark wood of the walls as the night deepened. Finally, in the last round, he managed to claim victory.

  "Good job, Adam. You are slowly getting it." Berto said, the grim shadow finally lifting from his features as he turned to Adam’s mother. "I did not expect Cait to become so good at it so quickly."

  "It was purely luck." she replied while poking her husband slightly.

  "I did not win a single time. Tomorrow I will outplay you all!" Kristoff declared, and the room was filled with the warmth of shared laughter, the previous tension dissipating like mist under the sun.

  As the night grew late, Caitlyn offered the guest room to Berto. "Adam, do not try to meditate instead of sleeping. Get enough rest so you have strength for tomorrow." Berto warned as he headed for the stairs.

  Adam went to take a bath, hoping the heavy steam and warm water would relax his body. Submerged in the tub so that only his head remained above the surface, he watched the ripples on the water’s surface, their concentric circles expanding and fading like the brief lives of mortals. This day had made him realize the fragility of mortal life compared to the longevity of mages. He understood that the path of a mage was anything but easy. He would have to learn a great deal to avoid the dangers lurking in every corner of this world, a place where knowledge could be as lethal as any blade.

  He also thought of his parents and whether there was a way to prolong their lives. He knew he might have to accept their eventual passing, but the thought was a jagged, painful thing to bear. He wanted to secure whatever time he could, even if their lifespan was only increased by a small margin. Then there were those whispers. One part of him wanted to listen to them, but the memory of Berto’s serious face held him back. Perhaps the whispers were related to his Tier 3 potential, a resonance that only he could perceive. This would explain why his Master had no knowledge of them. Adam decided to listen to his more experienced mentor until he was strong enough to explore the truth for himself, or until the whispers left him no other choice.

  As the hearth fire finally died down to glowing embers, Adam went to his room, but sleep did not come easily. The information he had received today was too much to process. When he finally drifted off, it was not into a peaceful slumber. He found himself in a dark, dimly lit place where weird objects stretched far into the distance. He eventually realized they were stars, the same ones seen in the night sky, yet they appeared different from this impossible vantage point. They were colossal, indifferent entities of burning fire, cold and distant. Suddenly, the whispers returned. They were louder and clearer than they had ever been, echoing through the empty void of his mind. He tried not to listen, but they grew in volume until he had no choice. The words were foreign and ancient, carrying an enormous power that made his skin crawl and his blood freeze.

  He tried to pinch himself to wake up, but nothing happened. A sharp, piercing pain erupted behind his eyes, as if his skull were being slowly pried open. His head began to spin with a sickening, chaotic intensity. The void around him seemed to tighten, the stars becoming blinding points of agony. Just as the pressure felt like it would break his mind, the whispers stopped. The world whirled in a violent vortex, casting him back into his bed in an instant. Adam launched himself upright in pure terror, his heart racing with a frantic, uneven rhythm. He sat in the dark, drenched in sweat that felt as cold as ice. His muscles were screaming with exhaustion, and his body continued to shake. He saw the first rays of the sun beginning to rise through his window. It was morning already, and he knew he had to tell his Master everything.

  "What the fuck was that?!" he whispered to the empty room.