The last remnants of sunset bled from the sky as Magister Aldric Venn stood atop the highest tower of the Memoriam Academy. His weathered hands trembled as he clutched a small, ornate box—the culmination of years of research and sacrifice.

"Is it time, Master?" a voice asked from behind him.

Aldric turned to face his apprentice, Thorne. The young man's eyes gleamed with barely contained excitement.

"Yes," Aldric replied, his voice heavy with the weight of his decision. "With this ritual, we'll unlock power beyond imagination. The ability to shape reality itself."

Thorne nodded eagerly. "And the cost?"

Aldric's gaze drifted to the box. "Memories. The most precious we possess."

As the first stars flickered to life above them, Aldric opened the box. A swirling mist of silver and gold emerged, dancing around the two mages.

"Remember, Thorne," Aldric warned, "with great power comes—"

But his words were lost as the mist enveloped them. Aldric felt a tugging sensation, as if hooks were latching onto his very thoughts. Memories began to slip away—his childhood, his first spell, the face of someone he loved.

Panic gripped him. This wasn't right. It was too much.

"Thorne!" he called out. "We must stop—"

Through the haze, he saw his apprentice's face twisted in a triumphant grin. "Oh no, Master. We've only just begun."

As darkness claimed him, Aldric realized his gravest error. The last thing he heard was Thorne's laughter, echoing across a chasm of forgotten moments.