The sound of whispers echoed in the halls of Rithmere Academy, a prestigious school known for producing brilliant minds and noble figures. Yet, behind its polished marble floors and towering arches lay a silent cruelty—a cruelty that often sought to tear down the brightest stars among them.
Rheus Marcellion, top of his class, had long become the target of that cruelty.
He sat alone in the corner of the courtyard, his face buried in the pages of a thick, weathered book, oblivious to the taunts that floated his way. A group of boys passed by, muttering under their breath as they shot him envious glares.
"Thinks he's better than everyone, doesn't he?" one of them sneered, nudging his friend.
"Bet he's never even thrown a punch in his life," another added with a chuckle.
But Rheus heard none of it. He didn't need to. He had long mastered the art of tuning out the world. His solace came in the form of words, bound in leather and inked with knowledge of faraway lands, ancient battles, and lost civilizations. Whether it was a novel filled with heroic adventures or a manual on martial arts, Rheus devoured it all, his mind sharp and vast, far beyond his years.
What no one knew—and what Rheus preferred to keep hidden—was that he had taught himself every skill imaginable from the very books he held in his hands. He could wield a sword as well as the knights of old, shoot arrows with precision, and even master the complex strategies of war. He had practiced alone, in the dead of night, far from the mocking eyes of his classmates. To them, he was just the quiet, bookish boy who seemed to have no friends. But to himself, Rheus was more than they would ever know.
He closed his book with a soft sigh, watching as the shadows of dusk began to stretch across the academy grounds. It was time to head to his usual sanctuary—the library, his haven, the place where he could escape the harshness of reality and drown himself in knowledge.
The library was near empty as he entered, a gentle quiet resting upon the rows of shelves. He ran his fingers along the spines of countless books, each one familiar, each one already devoured by his eager mind. That was the problem. Rheus had read them all.
For a brief moment, a sense of loss tugged at his heart. What would he do now? Where could he find more to quench his thirst for knowledge? He thought about visiting another bookshop, or perhaps traveling to the city to search for rarer texts.
As he walked towards the exit, something strange happened. The door—solid and wooden just moments before—began to shimmer, its surface fading into a brilliant, pure white. Rheus blinked, rubbing his eyes, convinced it was some trick of the light, or perhaps his exhaustion playing tricks on him. But the door remained glowing, as if beckoning him toward it.
Curiosity tugged at him, stronger than his confusion. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped forward, his hand outstretched to touch the gleaming surface. And then, without warning, the world around him shifted.
In an instant, the familiar walls of the library dissolved, replaced by the sights and sounds of a bustling village square. Rheus blinked, disoriented, his heart racing in his chest. He turned in a circle, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Cobblestone streets stretched out before him, lined with stalls selling fruits, tools, and trinkets. People walked past him, laughing and chatting, entirely unaware of his sudden arrival.
Where... Am I?
The thought drifted through his mind like a wisp of smoke. The familiar academy, the library, the cruel whispers—they were all gone. In their place was a new world, strange yet inviting. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread and blooming flowers, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Rheus felt... free. No longer was he the lonely, bullied boy from school. Here, in this strange, vibrant village, no one knew who he was. No one cared that he was top of his class, or that he preferred books to people.
For the first time in his life, Rheus felt an unfamiliar but welcome sensation: happiness.
His eyes fell on a small bookshop nearby, its door slightly ajar, and the shelves inside filled to the brim with books he had never seen before. A spark of excitement lit up inside him as he stepped through the threshold, feeling an odd sense of belonging.
The shopkeeper, an elderly woman with kind eyes, greeted him with a nod as he wandered through the aisles. He reached out, touching the spine of a worn-out book when something caught his attention. Tucked between two old tomes was a piece of parchment—a map.
Rheus pulled it out, unfolding it carefully. His brow furrowed as he studied it. It was unlike any map he had ever seen. The land depicted on it seemed ancient, almost mystical. At the center of the map was a bold inscription: The Lost Kingdom.
His heart skipped a beat.
"What's this?" he asked aloud, approaching the shopkeeper.
She glanced at the map and smiled. "I don't see anything, dear. It's blank."
Rheus blinked, confusion clouding his mind. Blank? But... the map was clear to him. Every line, every mountain, every river was perfectly visible.
He tried again, showing it to a passerby outside. "Do you see anything on this?"
The man shook his head, uninterested. "Just a blank piece of parchment."
But to Rheus, the map was as real as the books he read. The Lost Kingdom—a place no one else could see but him. Why? And what did it mean?
His pulse quickened with excitement and a strange sense of destiny. Perhaps this was why he had been brought here, to this new world. A world where the whispers of envy and cruelty no longer followed him. A world where he could finally be more than just the boy with his head in a book.
As Rheus stared at the map, the beginning of his new journey unfolded before him.
And this time, he wasn't going to be the one left behind.