Two days had passed since Roric's departure, and the heavy, oppressive cloak of authority over the house had lifted
Aurelion moved like a shadow in the twilight of his own room. For two days, in Roric's absence, he had meticulously followed his own program. During the day, under the curious gazes of Brynja and Sigrid, he performed the tedious basic physical exercises the Captain had ordered, skillfully wearing the mask of an obedient student. But the real work began in these first, untouched hours of night and dawn.
His destination was clear. The Training Room. In Roric's absence, this place was ideal for the inner energy experiments the Captain had forbidden. The walls were thick, the door sturdy, and most importantly, Roric's presence was miles away.
Just as he was about to turn into the corridor leading to the training room. Brynja. The woman, holding a small oil lamp, had probably woken up for the first preparations of the morning. Their paths crossed.
"Aurelion? Are you up at this hour? And... to the training room?"
Aurelion put a calm, almost spiritual expression. "Yes, Brynja. I'm going to do the mind training Captain Roric taught me. These early hours of the morning are when my mind is clearest."
Brynja hesitated for a moment. This little Elf was always strange. Instead of running and playing like his peers, he would sit in corners lost in thought, and now he was talking about getting up before dawn to do mind training.
But he was the Captain's new apprentice, and the orders were clear. "Alright," she said simply. "But we'll check on you when lunchtime comes. The Captain wouldn't want you to go hungry until he returns."
"Of course," Aurelion said with a slight nod. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't disturb me. It requires deep focus."
Brynja nodded returned to her chores. Aurelion waited for the woman to turn her back, then pushed open the heavy door of the training room and slipped inside.
When he gently closed the door behind him, a smile appeared on his face. This smile was a reflection of the progress he had made in the last two days. He was getting closer to that feeling... He was really getting closer.
He sat cross legged on the mat in the middle of the room.
He closed his eyes. The outside world vanished. His mind once again embarked on that familiar but each time differently felt journey.
Nothingness.
First, he summoned that loneliness to his mind. Then came the icy breath of infinity. And deepest of all, that pressure that permeated his very soul. That wearing struggle against the raw, merciless power of existence...
But this time, these feelings weren't just frightening memories. They shine with a different light in his mind. That old world... That suffocating, gray monotony.
The existence where he was a grain of sand crushed between the gears of rules, expectations, that giant, soulless machine called society...
Personal power had no meaning there. Will was ground between the cogs of the system. He hadn't enjoyed that life, no. He had wished for it to end. He had always dreamed of a life that was fairer, freer, more his own.
And then nothingness had embraced him. That immense void, that terrifying infinity... it was horrible, yes. It had caused pain. It had slammed the meaninglessness of his own existence in the face of the universe's vastness.
But at the same time… it was a salvation. It was proof of escape from the tyranny of that past life, from that suffocating system. The fact that he still existed despite that nothingness, that he hadn't lost his consciousness, that his soul had withstood that cosmic pressure…
That was the victory of his will. And this new, merciless but potential filled world he was now in was the reward for that victory.
That's why he loved those frightening feelings. That infinite nothingness, that cosmic loneliness, that pain… They were the price and proof of his freedom. He was ready to embrace them, not fear them. They were the cornerstones of his new existence.
With that strange smile appearing on his face, he completely surrendered his consciousness to that feeling of nothingness. He wasn't seeking fear, but the pure, thoughtless awareness that feeling brought. He anchored his mind to that cold, allowing his consciousness to float in that infinite darkness.
Hours flowed by. The only sound in the training room was Aurelion's deep, regular breathing. Outside, the sun had risen, climbed high, perhaps already approaching noon, but he was on that inner journey beyond time and space.
His consciousness floated in that deep, calm, yet ever ready to devour void of nothingness. He was getting used to that void, becoming one with it.
And then, right at the center of that stillness, he felt he was ready. He pushed aside all external echoes from his mind. Only one thing remained. That pure, observant consciousness. He embraced the infinite darkness, became a part of it.
In this moment of absolute focus, something he had never seen before appeared at the very center of his consciousness. A small, but intense, warm, golden light. It was like a miniature sun beating in the center of his chest. Calm but holding immense potential within it. Was this the Core? That center where his soul was bound to this body?
The golden light throbbed faintly. And Aurelion felt tiny, sparkling droplets of energy seeping from within that light, as if born from a spring. These weren't physical, no. They existed entirely within his mind, in the space his consciousness had created in that void. They were like water droplets. Clear, mobile, and controllable.
Curiously, he directed his will towards one of those droplets. Surprisingly, the droplet reacted instantly. It moved with his thought. He made it float within his mind, circle around the other droplets, merge with them, then separate again.
This... This was incredible! And… yes, unlike in Linnea's office, this was easy. This state of nothingness, this state of pure consciousness, was the key to feeling and mentally controlling energy!
For a long time, he occupied himself with this mental game. He danced with the energy droplets, shaped them, sped them up, slowed them down. He was tasting the first fruits of his inner potential, and this was more fantastic than anything he had ever felt.
Finally, he felt it was time to move beyond this mental game. He had to project this power outward. He selected a few of those droplets, separated them from the center of the golden light, and in his mind, slowly directed them towards his left hand. He felt the energy flowing out of his consciousness, towards his physical form. A bridge was being formed.
He took a deep breath, his lungs filling with fresh air. And slowly, he opened his eyes.
The dimness of the training room greeted him. His gaze immediately turned to his left hand. Slowly, almost reverently, he lifted his hand towards his face.
And there it was.
A thin, trembling wisp of smoke rose from his palm, from between his fingers. Like steam rising in warm air. But it was real. Visible.
And most importantly… There was no pain. No headache, no nausea, no that burning feeling of exhaustion… Only a light, controllable warmth he felt in his hand and this faint smoke created by that warmth.
Aurelion looked at his smoking hand. A cold smirk slowly, irresistibly, spread across his face. This wasn't the savage satisfaction of defeating Nazgûl or the mocking pleasure of humiliating Grok. This was something much deeper, much more dangerous.
This was the pure triumph of the power he had desperately longed for for two lifetimes, finally awakened.
The smoke rose one last time, trembling, from between his fingers, and then completely dispersed in the dim air.
Aurelion, without erasing his smirk, carefully examined his hand. He opened and closed his palm. He moved his fingers one by one. There were no negative symptoms.
"This is it… this is the way," he thought, his eyes shining. "That state of Nothingness… Completely abstracting the mind from the noise of the body, from the chaos of the world… That's when the Core speaks, that's when energy becomes controllable. This is the key."
This discovery was more valuable than anything Roric or Linnea could teach. This was his own path.
However, the euphoria brought by this discovery was immediately balanced by a cold reality. Yes, it was surprisingly easy to feel and mentally direct energy in the state of nothingness.
But that final step… Turning a mental command into a physical manifestation, and doing it with his eyes open, within the reality of this world… That was the real difficulty. And though his first attempt was successful, he didn't know how sustainable or repeatable it was.
He had to try again. But without rushing. Calmly and carefully. He shouldn't get carried away by the first success.
He focused on his hand again. He tried to conjure that golden light, those energy droplets, in his mind. He didn't close his eyes this time.
He reached inward, trying to catch that feeling… He couldn't. Or at least, he didn't feel it with the clarity and ease of the state of nothingness. It was as if there was a curtain in between, a parasite, the noise of the physical world clouding his mind.
He tried a few more times. Different focusing techniques, breath control… Sometimes he felt a slight heat in his palm, sometimes nothing. There was no smoke. And most importantly, there were still no side effects.
So forcing it was the wrong method. What mattered was reaching that correct mental state. But how would he do that with his eyes open, within this physical reality?
"A bridge… I need to build a bridge between mental control and physical manifestation" he thought. "There must be a way to maintain the nothingness focus while in the physical realm, while consciously moving."
Roric's basic training came to mind. Stances… Breath control… Rhythmic movements…
His eyes lit up. Yes! Push-ups! This simple but effective exercise required both focus and provided perfect harmony with breath.
Moreover, for some reason, he liked doing this exercise. Rise and fall of the body, the layered pain that gradually built up in his muscles. Yes, he really liked this exercise.
He quickly got up from the mat and he moved to the empty space in the middle of the room and assumed the familiar push-up position.
He closed his eyes. He took a few deep, calm breaths. He focused again on that state of nothingness, on those memories of bodiless consciousness. He summoned that feeling of cold, infinite emptiness to his mind. He held onto it.
Then, slowly, very slowly, he began to lower himself. As his elbows bent, he inhaled in a controlled manner. And as he inhaled, he focused on that golden light in his mind, imagining he was storing a tiny droplet of energy from it in his consciousness, as if drawing in air. As his inhalation deepened, that feeling of inner energy also strengthened.
He stopped just before his body touched the ground. He waited for a moment with that stored energy and the focus of nothingness. Then, as he slowly exhaled, he began to push himself upwards. And as he exhaled, he imagined releasing that small droplet of stored energy, as if blowing it out with his breath, towards his arms, his chest, his entire upper body.
This required incredible concentration. To maintain the focus of nothingness, to synchronize breath with energy flow, and to perform the physical movement flawlessly… His mind and body were simultaneously trying to perform different but harmonious tasks.
The first few repetitions were difficult. Sometimes he lost focus, breaking away from the feeling of nothingness. Sometimes his breath lost its rhythm, the energy flow was interrupted. But he didn't give up. Each time he focused better, tried to find the rhythm.
He did the push-ups very slowly, storing energy with a deep breath on each descent, and spreading that energy through his body with a breath on each ascent.
He could now feel that he was moving not just with muscle strength, but also with that inner energy. His arms tired less, his movement became more fluid. There was no pain, only intense concentration and an awareness of that thin, vibrating bridge being built between his body and mind.
He didn't know how long he continued this way. But finally, he stopped, not from fatigue, but from a kind of inner satiation.
He slowly straightened up, sat cross-legged on the mat again. His eyes were still closed. That golden light was still there within him, the energy droplets still calmly floating in his consciousness. That bridge… had been built.
He took another deep breath, this time gathering all his consciousness, all his will. Then he slowly opened his eyes. The room was still in the same dimness. As he exhaled, he focused all his attention on his left hand again. He summoned those energy droplets in his mind, commanded them to flow towards his fingertips.
It was harder this time, yes. To maintain that nothingness focus with his eyes open, within the reality of this world, to reach that state of pure consciousness, required more effort. But it wasn't impossible. The push-up training had shown him the way.
And he succeeded.
From his palm, from between his fingers, that thin, colorless smoke began to rise again. Perhaps it wasn't as intense as the first time, perhaps it lasted a little shorter. But it was there. Summoned with conscious will, with his eyes open. And most importantly, there was still no pain.
Aurelion, for the second time, this time with his eyes wide open, looked at his smoky hand. The smirk on his face deepened even further. He was sure now. He had opened the door. Now it was time to pass through that door and discover what lay inside.
Aurelion savored that feeling of pure triumph for a moment. As the smoke gently dispersed from between his fingers, he took a deep breath, calming himself.
This was just the beginning. Now it was time for practice. Without closing his eyes, trying to maintain that nothingness focus still fresh in his mind, he continued to feel the slight warmth in his palm.
That golden light, those energy droplets... They were still there in a corner of his consciousness. Keeping the mental bridge open, he used his will. He directed the warmth in his palm towards the tip of his index finger.
It was difficult at first. But the push-up experiment had shown him the way. He controlled his breath, locked his mind onto that single point.
And he succeeded. A thin, trembling wisp of smoke began to rise from the tip of his index finger. No pain. Then he shifted his focus to his middle finger. The smoke rose from there. Ring finger... Little finger... Thumb... In turn, he managed to make that colorless smoke rise from each finger.
This wasn't as easy as the fluid control in the state of nothingness, yes. It required more concentration, more willpower. But it was happening! And there were no side effects! He was playing with this energy, moving it between his fingers, feeling its presence. Maintaining this bridge, strengthening it... That was his training now.
Just as he was in the midst of this fascinating discovery, he was startled by light but approaching footsteps from outside the door. It must be lunchtime!
He quickly took a deep breath, focusing on that golden light and droplets in his mind, and with his will, gave the command Retreat!
The slight warmth and smoke in his fingers instantly vanished.
He quickly stood up, letting his hands fall casually to his sides, trying to put on a tired expression.
Could there still be a faint smell in the air of the room? Would it be noticeable?
Knock... Knock...
T"Aurelion?" It was Sigrid's softer voice. "Are you alright? You've been quiet for a while..."
"No problem, Sigrid. I'm fine. Just... resting a bit. Is lunch ready?"
"Yes, it's ready," Sigrid said from behind the door. "Brynja tried a special fish dish for you today. Come on now."
"Alright," Aurelion said. "I'm coming now."
He hadn't been caught. But this interruption reminded him of another truth. He was never completely free in this house. Even with Roric gone, eyes were on him. To learn more, to practice more freely, he had to get out of here.
With that cold smirk on his face again, he lay back on the stone floor, arms spread out to his sides, his eyes fixed on the patterns on the ceiling.
"Yes… More training is essential. But that's not enough. Knowledge… I need more knowledge."
His mind began to scan potential sources. "Linnea? No, too controlling, she ties every piece of information to a condition. Roric? Never. He keeps his secrets to himself. Maybe the parchments in the library? Not enough, most are basic or misleading. Other Elves? There's no one here…"
Then it came to him.
"That woman…" he thought, his brows furrowing slightly. "She's dangerous, for sure. Manipulative, unreliable… But she was also clearly knowledgeable. About seals, maybe about energy…"
He hesitated for a moment. "This could be a bit risky… But who else can I learn from? She probably has the information I need."
The decision was made. He would find that woman. But how? Roric's house was a cage.
Then his eyes lit up. Viggo's invitation! Ylva! This was a perfect excuse.
With the plans swirling in his mind, the small figure lying on the floor suddenly straightened up with agility and walked towards the door.
When he entered the kitchen, Brynja was at the stove, and Sigrid was busy setting the table.
There was still an involuntary smirk on Aurelion's face, brought on by his inner triumph and new plans. Both women noticed it.
"Well, look at you," Sigrid said, smiling, as she placed a steaming plate of fried fish and root vegetables beside it in front of him. "You look happy, Aurelion. I guess the mind training is going well?"
Brynja also turned around, wiping her hands on her apron, and nodded. "Yes, you usually scowl all the time. You look different today. I guess you made some progress?"
Aurelion didn't erase the smile from his face. This time, he used it consciously. "Let's just say I'm reaping the fruits of my labor," he said, his voice light and cheerful.
Sigrid giggled. "Good to hear that. Enjoy your meal." Brynja also nodded slightly.
Aurelion sat at the table and attacked the food. He was really hungry, and this fish... was wonderful. Everything was wonderful after the porridge at the orphanage, but this was different.
After scraping his plate clean. He lifted his head and turned to Sigrid. "Sigrid," he said, adjusting his voice to that innocent, childish tone again. "I want to go out."
Sigrid turned to him. "Oh? Where would you like to go? Shall I get ready, we can go out together?"
"No," Aurelion said immediately. "You don't need to accompany me."
He saw Brynja's brows furrow slightly. He quickly continued. "When Clan Leader Viggo came the other day, remember? He invited me to their clan. He has a granddaughter about my age, her name is Ylva. I want to go to her." He paused, presenting his most crucial argument. "And I don't want anyone with me when I go. Their clan is just in the next district. I don't want to be seen as a little child who goes everywhere with someone, who can't go anywhere alone."
Sigrid and Brynja looked at each other. There was an understanding and a little amusement on Sigrid's face. "Well, well, our little man has grown up and wants to go out alone," she said with a slight tease.
Brynja cleared her throat lightly, silencing Sigrid. She turned to Aurelion, her face serious. "I understand you, Aurelion, wanting to be independent. But the Captain's orders are clear. We must not let you out of our sight."
Aurelion immediately frowned. "No! If you insist on following me, then I'm not going, alright?" he said angrily. He got up from his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and went to the armchair by the fireplace with a sulky face, turning his back to them.
He was throwing a complete childish tantrum.
Sigrid looked helplessly at Brynja. "I think we're putting too much pressure on the child, Brynja," she whispered. "He's just going to the next street. Besides, the place is crawling with Silver Guards, they know he's under the Captain's protection. It won't be a problem. Let him get some air, socialize a bit. Look at him, he'll just sit there and sulk all day again."
Brynja closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Roric's order was clear, but the child's state was also annoying. She took a deep breath. "Alright," she said wearily. "But only for two hours! He have to be back here in two hours, or I'll have all the silver guards looking for him, understood?"
"Okay!" she said cheerfully. She immediately went to Aurelion's side.
Aurelion was still looking at the fire with a sulky face. "Aurelion," Sigrid said softly. "You can go. But Brynja said two hours, don't forget."
Aurelion's face instantly lit up. "Really? Thank you, Sigrid! Thank you, Brynja!" he said, his voice filled with feigned joy. He quickly jumped up from the armchair. "I'll get ready and come right back!" he said and ran to his room.
A few minutes later, he came down wearing cleaner, dark colored clothes and the black woolen cloak Sigrid had given him. That childish excitement was still on his face.
"I'm going!"
Sigrid accompanied him to the door. "Be careful. And two hours!"
"Okay!" Aurelion darted out the door. Sigrid watched him with a smile, then closed the door.
Outside, the moment the heavy oak door of the house closed behind him, the childish happiness on Aurelion's face vanished as if cut by a knife.
It was replaced again by that smirk. "It's a little embarrassing, but after all, I'm still a child."
He quickly looked around, making sure no one was following him. Then, with calm steps, moving away from crowded streets, he headed towards a quieter corner of the Upper District.
His destination was clear. That solitary bench under an old pine tree, which he had spotted while walking with Sigrid earlier.
He arrived there, checked his surroundings one last time. No one. He calmly sat on the bench. He leaned his back against the tree. And he began to wait. His eyes scanned the surrounding shadows, the entrances to narrow streets. For the past half hour, only a few people had passed by. No one paid him any attention. He waited patiently.
Just as his patience was beginning to wear thin, that familiar, sweet voice came from behind him.
"What are you doing here all alone, little light?"
Vespera.
Aurelion didn't flinch. He didn't turn around. Only that smirk on his face became a little more pronounced.
"It took you," he said in a calm, mocking tone, "longer than I expected you to arrive."