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The Language Mage

I'm Richard, a well-known linguist, and my life was all about decoding ancient and dead languages. I've spent years immersed in the intricate tapestry of countless dialects and scripts. My most ambitious project, the culmination of my life's work, was finally complete. I'd uncovered something that could rewrite the history books and shock the entire world. But fate can be merciless. On my way to celebrate this breakthrough at a restaurant, everything changed in an instant. A car crash, and I was gone. At least, that's what I thought. The next thing I knew, I was waking up, but it wasn't in the cold sterility of a hospital room. No, it was in a young man's body, and the world around me was unlike anything I'd ever seen. Magic was real here, and it flowed through the very air. My name was still Richard, but this was a world far removed from my own. What could I, a linguist, possibly do in a world of magic? My body was physically weak, and I was a stranger in a realm where words held the power to shape reality. As I navigated this bewildering new world, I faced not only the challenges of adapting to my new life but also the potential to use my unique skills to unlock the secrets of this magical realm. The journey that lay ahead was an enigma, but one thing was certain – my life had taken a turn into uncharted territories, and there was no turning back.

RiverGoat · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
48 Chs

The Unseen Enchantment II

— What do we do? — Elena's whispered query, hung in the air like a delicate secret. Richard's mind raced against the encroaching danger, his senses heightened in the absence of sight. Richard sensed the cadence of footsteps, distinct and echoing, heralded the butler's approach. A peculiar awareness, born of an acute sensitivity, distinguished the slow rhythm of his walk from the ambient sounds that had previously colored Richard's perception.

— Get him close to me when I cough. I just need a minute, at most, to make the necessary preparations. — Richard's instructions, delivered in a measured whisper, wove a thread of strategy in the tapestry of uncertainty. The room, with its stone-cold walls standing as silent sentinels, absorbed the weight of their clandestine planning.