I wouldn’t say my life is perfect, but on the other hand I have little to complain about. I’ve always gotten good grades and I am soon approaching graduation from university.

  I imagine most of my peers would be optimistic or terrified of their future, but I don’t feel the same.

  I’m not sure when it started, but at some point in my life I had simply begun to feel numb. It’s not that I don’t feel emotions, but I simply began to care less about the future as it often disappointed me.

  I don't wish to die nor do I fear it. I find the act of dying more terrifying than the eternal slumber itself.

  As the days passed, I found myself talking more and more to myself in search of understanding.

  Even now as I lie here on my bed at 3:00 in the morning, my incessant thoughts give me no rest. My last final exam before graduation is tomorrow, but it is not what clouds my thoughts.

  I better get some sleep or I’ll be miserable tomorrow.

  “He’s still alive, we lost him for a moment, but the body is no longer rejecting the compound.” A voice filled my ears as I struggled to keep conscious.

  I awoke with only a fragment of a strange dream as I began to sort my thoughts. The exam today shouldn’t be too hard, but I should grab something to eat before heading there.

  As my eyes began to process my environment, I realized I was still dreaming…or that’s what I would say if I had ever seen a dream this vivid.

  I appeared to be in some sort of infirmary with about 10 beds by my count filled with 3 other people that didn’t look much older than 13, but I was never good at guessing ages.

  Excited to explore my first lucid dream, I shuffled myself off the bed and on to a cold stone floor with an uneven surface that felt too real to be a dream.

  It wasn’t long before I realized I was not in my own body as I found the ground much closer to my head than it should be. My hands betrayed the nature of my youth as I began to explore the room.

  None of the other patients seemed to be awake so I began to look for a mirror when I suddenly heard approaching footsteps. In a panic I looked for a place to hide, but the beds were raised and there was only one door, the one from which the footsteps approached.

  It became very apparent that this was not a lucid dream as I tried and failed to manipulate the environment.

  Finally an old man appearing to be in his 60s with a bald head and a handlebar mustache reared into the door frame. “Ah, I see you’ve recovered quickly, good. Come quickly boy, Master Korbyn will be addressing the new trainees shortly.

  I stood there in shock for a moment as my mind failed to process the scenario. The dream felt too real and lacked the absurdity my dreams usually carried.

  “What are you waiting for? Hurry up!” the geezer snapped me out of my daze.

  Many questions remained but my every instinct told me to shut up and follow the man for now.

  He led me down a dark corridor lit by few torches, but it did not seem to bother my eyes as I could still see a thick wooden door at the end of the hall to my astonishment.

  The geezer must have noticed my surprise and began to speak, “Impressive, isn’t it? While the addition to the compound significantly decreases the rate of survival for the procedure, the results speak for themselves. Enhanced night vision and long distance viewing capabilities that rival even a three horned owl.”

  I nodded my head in agreement.

  Yep, that confirms it, this guy’s insane. Although they say genius is a step above madness, so for now it’s probably best to try not to get on his bad side.

  We soon reached the doors and the mad scientist finished with his ramblings and ushered me inside.

  The room was as well lit as it could be given the presence of torches and lack of windows. The room remained crafted from stone, evoking a sense of castle architecture.

  I was flanked by two hooded guards, one of which directed me to be seated on the stone floor next to a line of children no older than those I had seen in the infirmary.

  In front of us stood a small stage that was barely raised as if it was a standup comedy venue. We waited several minutes in silence before someone took the stage.

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  The man wore an elaborate black cloak similar to the guards at the entrance but the design was obviously meant to denote a higher rank than the cloak the guards wore.

  That must be the Master Korbyn that the crazy geezer was referring to. I’ll need to listen attentively if I want to blend in while I figure out what the hell is happening.

  Despite my enhanced eyesight, I failed to see under his hood as a darkness my eyes couldn’t penetrate shrouded his face.

  “Welcome initiates, for nearly 300 years our predecessors have been raised and trained here on the Isle of Mist. To be an Assassin of the mist is to be a shadow; To have no form, to leave no trace, and be unseen.” Master Korbyn declared.

  I began to realize that I would not be waking up from this ‘dream’. If I am to survive this ‘cult’ then I need to blend in. With all my knowledge, I should have no problem competing with mere children.

  If I can survive until they let me off this damn island then I can make for the hills and never look back.

  “In order to ensure that you meet that standard, I, Master Korbyn, have been assigned as your instructor. The completion of phase one of your training has granted you four primary enhancements; enhanced vision, enhanced stamina, enhanced reflexes, and enhanced constitution.” Master Korbyn continued.

  Phase one must have been the compound the geezer was describing. The realization made me remember the 3 remaining patients back in the infirmary. A chill ran down my spine as I realized there were only 7 trainees myself included, exactly the number of empty beds.

  These crazy bastards just injected us with an enhancement compound with a 30% fatality rate and expect us to be grateful?

  “Phase two will consist of basic training and sorcery. You will be expected to report to the sundered courtyard every morning at first light. I advise you to do so in a timely manner.” Mastery Korbyn stated coldly.

  Sorcery? It sounds ridiculous but it’s not the craziest thing I’ve heard today. If I can use my earthly knowledge to get a headstart on magic then I should have no trouble exceeding the other trainees.

  I’m not sure how hard it will be to survive this mess, but it’s better to stick out in a good way than be at the bottom of the class.

  These lunatics clearly have no qualms about killing children so it’s best to avoid their ire.

  “A guard will escort you to your rooms now. I welcome you into the mist trainees, and hope that I will one day call you brothers and sisters.” Master Korbyn finished.

  One of the guards proceeded to escort me to a small room down a few corridors. I’m not sure how they expect us to just know our way to the sundered courtyard, but I seemed to be the only ignorant one.

  Perhaps the other trainees have been here longer than I expected but I recall no memories from this body's previous owner.

  The guard led me to a small room that reminded me of a monk’s cell. There was little in the realm of furnishing; containing just a bed, desk, and small wardrobe.

  The wardrobe contained half a dozen sets of clothes and a small black cloak with no markings.

  On the desk stood a book with strange markings. On the cover was written ‘Guide book’. My eyes opened at the sudden realization that I could read the foreign script.

  I guess I retained at least some portion of knowledge from this boy’s memory.

  I discovered the book is actually quite useful as it contained a map of the citadel and a marking showing my room.

  It also held a schedule and number of basic facts which were probably boring to the average reader but very useful since I just got here.

  I quickly learned that we resided on the Isle of Mist, a small island in a stretch of Rapforth bay known to be plagued with a continuous fog. The island is a considerable distance from the mainland.

  While this world’s scholars debate the magical or natural origins of the fog, most sailors stay clear and the few that enter rarely return.

  Because of this, the assassins of the mist have thrived hidden on the Isle of Mist for nearly 300 years.

  There were no descriptions of any motivations or benefactors for the organization. I guess the top brass keeps the fine details to themselves.

  My stomach growled, making itself heard. from the window in my room I could see it was getting dark, so I decided it was best to grab some dinner since tomorrow would be an early start.

  The rest of the evening was uneventful except for discovering that the complex had a bath. I guess with magic they don’t need advanced plumbing for bathing to be widespread in this world. I can only hope the rest of my earthly hygienic procedures would be commonplace here.

  The next day soon arrived and I finished my morning routine and headed to the sundered courtyard as I had been instructed. The courtyard was an atrium with a large tree in the center that reminded me of a willow tree from earth. On the left side of the tree was a stone floor with practice weapons racked on the wall while the right side of the courtyard was covered in grass and other small flora.

  The other 6 children and I gathered around the tree in the center as we waited for Master Korbyn. They consisted of 4 boys and 2 girls. All of us appeared the same age, at least physically. I moved to introduce myself to my peers since I did not wish to make any more enemies than necessary.

  I had learned my name from the guide book assigned to me. “Nice to meet you all, my name is Marcus” I declared to a mixed reception.

  Three of the boys and one of the girls ignored me but the other two introduced themselves. “I’m Austin.”, “Mara” the boy and girl responded respectively. I was hoping for more connections but these two would have to do for now.

  Austin was about the same height as me and had light brown hair and vibrant green eyes. Mara was half a head shorter than us and had long black hair and deep blue eyes. From what I could see of it my hair was black but the rest of my face remained a mystery to me until I could find a mirror.

  After a short time of getting acquainted with my new peers, Master Korbyn had arrived in the courtyard and the first sunlight could be seen lighting the sky. We all gathered around and class began shortly after.

  The first half of our day was spent training in traditional combat; swords, spears, knives, hand to hand, axes, and more. The instructor explained that we would reach a level of proficiency in each weapon before picking one to pursue a specialization. Today’s lesson consisted of just hand to hand combat. I had no combat experience from earth so I held no apparent advantage over the other students.

  When physical training had come to an end we were given a short break for lunch and the second half of the day was dedicated to magic class. We returned to the courtyard and Master Korbyn began to instruct us on the basics of magic.

  “Magic is the manipulation of mana to strengthen physical capabilities through infusion or to project and control the elemental attributes. The six elemental attributes consist of earth, water, fire, air, light, dark. The elements of light and dark are considered ‘higher order’ elements because they contain the extraordinary power to heal and erase respectively. Every person has a mana core and is capable of wielding all forms of elemental magic, however most people are incapable of detecting their own mana flow and even fewer receive formal training. While your mana pool starts small, your mana core will expand the size of your mana pool the more you use it. Spells are divided into 10 grades, with a grade 10 spell being the highest class of magic known. Just because you have a large mana pool however, doesn’t mean that you will be able to cast higher grade spells. A spell consists of runes of power which are like an instruction set for your mana. Without a proper high grade spell, your mana may spiral out of control and the spell will explode killing its caster. It is for this reason that there are very few high grade spell casters.”

  Magic is a powerful tool, but it is clearly as dangerous as it is powerful. I’ll need to learn the basics before attempting to craft a spell.

  The rest of the lesson consisted of the professor teaching us the basics of infusion magic and providing us with a written copy of the grade 1 air spell ‘silence’ which creates a small vacuum bubble to contain sound. It was a lot to take in for the first day, but I couldn’t fall behind. I began making a habit of heading to the library after class to learn as much as possible about this world. If I was going to survive in this new world, I needed to learn to defend myself before I made my escape.