Safe Haven: Haverix

Chapter 10:

Alex stood there in a daze, overwhelmed by the sheer spectacle surrounding him. He might have stayed rooted to the spot forever if a student in a red robe, accented with glowing blue runes, hadn't shoved him forward.

"Move along, mundie," the student muttered, clearly impatient.

Alex stumbled, turning to look back at the large sigil he had just stepped off. The intricate design pulsed with a soft, rhythmic light, large enough for six people to stand on comfortably. Around him, nine other sigils were arranged in a circle, each flashing intermittently as new arrivals materialized. Most of them appeared as bewildered as Alex, their wide eyes drinking in the strange new world. Occasionally, someone stepped through with an air of confidence, barely sparing the sigils a glance before striding purposefully away.

He tried to gather his thoughts but froze when he truly took in the crowd around him. Not everyone was human. Some figures had elongated, pointed ears, their features sharp and elegant. Elves? Alex thought, stunned. His eyes darted to others—short, stocky beings with braided beards that practically screamed dwarves, and towering figures with skin that shimmered like gemstones. One figure seemed to be made entirely of fire, though when Alex blinked and looked again, they appeared perfectly ordinary.

The diversity was staggering, and it sent Alex's mind spiraling. These weren't costumes or prosthetics. These were real, living beings from worlds he'd only ever dreamed about.

"Hey, you're holding up the line," the robed student snapped again, giving Alex another shove. "Follow your system, or get out of the way."

Alex stumbled to the side, still in shock. He swore he heard the student mutter "mundie" under his breath, a derogatory tone dripping from the word. He found himself on a quieter side path, far enough from the sigil platforms to no longer feel the rush of arriving students. For several minutes, Alex stood there, trying to piece together what he had just experienced. The enormity of it all was suffocating.

Finally, he shook himself out of his stupor. Focus. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

'System. Task.'

A faint, almost mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

Current Task: Make your way to orientation.

Hint: Think 'directions' to find your way there.

'Directions,' Alex thought, and immediately his vision shifted. A pale blue line materialized on the ground before him, stretching ahead and curving around a distant corner. The line pulsed gently as if beckoning him to follow.

He took a cautious step forward, and the line advanced with him, disappearing behind his foot while extending further ahead. Fascinated, Alex spent the next half hour testing the system's responsiveness—doubling back, taking wrong turns on purpose, and even standing still to see how the line adjusted. The way it adapted in real-time was mesmerizing, but eventually, his curiosity gave way to the practical need to get to orientation.

As he followed the blue path in earnest, his awe only deepened. The city around him was a vibrant blend of the fantastical and the academic. Towering spires of marble and crystal loomed above cobblestone streets. Bridges arched gracefully overflowing streams of liquid light. Students hurried past, their robes trailing behind them, carrying spellbooks that hovered obediently at their sides. Merchants hawked enchanted wares from floating kiosks, their voices amplified by small, glowing runes.

He even passed a group of students huddled around what could only be described as a miniature dinosaur, its leathery wings fluttering as it perched on one student's shoulder. He blinked, convinced he was imagining things, but it was gone before he could get a better look.

After nearly an hour of wandering in stunned amazement, he finally arrived at his destination: a colossal domed building labeled The Biblioplex. Its grandeur was almost overwhelming. The entrance was flanked by massive statues of ancient scholars, their eyes seemingly alive as they tracked the movements of those who passed by. The dome itself glittered in the light, its surface etched with intricate patterns that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles.

Inside, the Biblioplex was a marvel of magical engineering. Infinite shelves stretched into the distance, filled with books, scrolls, and artifacts from countless worlds. Floating platforms hovered silently, ferrying students and faculty between levels. Enchanted lanterns bathed the space in a warm, golden light, and every so often, a whispering breeze carried the faint sound of turning pages and murmured incantations.

Alex's directions led him deeper into the building, to a set of grand doors that opened into a vast auditorium. Rows upon rows of seats stretched out before him, already filled with thousands of students. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of where to sit, but ultimately decided on a spot near the front—his less-than-stellar eyesight demanded it.

As he descended the seemingly endless stairs, his attention was drawn to an empty seat next to a striking young woman. She was about 5'8", her olive-green dress clinging elegantly to her form. A small, grey hat perched at a slight angle on her shining chocolate head of hair, and her hazel eyes scanned the pages of a book she held delicately in her hands. Her tan skin seemed to glow faintly in the auditorium's light, and Alex noticed a faded tattoo peeking out from the low-cut back of her dress—a coiling dragon entwined with musical notes.

Summoning his courage, Alex cleared his throat. "Uh, excuse me. Is this seat taken?"

The woman looked up, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before she gave a curt nod. "Go ahead."

Alex settled into the seat, stealing a glance at her book. The cover depicted a dark-skinned elf wielding twin scimitars, with bold letters spelling out The Biography of Drizzt Do'Urden. His heart skipped a beat. Wait, what? Drizzt Do'Urden? That was a fictional character—at least, back on Earth. Yet here it was, labeled as a biography.

A wave of panic set in. If Drizzt was real, who else might be? All those fantastical stories he grew up with—could they have been based on actual people, actual events? He felt a rising tide of existential dread, his mind racing through the implications.

Baron Samedi was real. Drizzt was real. His grip tightened on the edge of his seat as the room around him seemed to blur and fade. What have I gotten myself into?