Maxi woke up without dreaming—a rare case, but a welcome one. No worthless effort chasing that stupid book, no endless voids.
He stretched, his bones cracking slightly as he stood from the soft embrace of his bed. The morning air was cold, but not unpleasant. After a brief bath, he dressed in a light blue shirt and a pair of pants that balanced between light brown and peach, soft to the touch and oddly comforting.
As he buttoned the last of his shirt, his mind wandered.
Now that Techxin had stopped training him, he was supposed to find another sibling to continue his combat training. The thought made his stomach turn. Techxin, for all his psychotic craziness, was probably the nicest of his siblings—if only because their mother had instructed him to be.
A memory bubbled to the surface. Maxi was still a baby then, a bundle of flesh and wonder in his mother's arms. She had shown him off like a trophy to each of her co-wives, the other mothers of his half-siblings. One moment, in particular, stood out. They were in the garden, sunlight spilling like golden syrup through the trees, when Techxin's mother arrived.
She was… beautiful. No, beautiful didn't even begin to describe it. Ethereal, maybe. Her hair, partly braided with flowers of varying colors, shimmered in the daylight like pink sapphire. She radiated grace. She had held him that day, and it felt like being embraced by a garden of dianthus—sweet, fragrant, and safe.
Then came the boy.
Fourteen years old. Dead red eyes. Steam-cold presence. He walked like a killer in silence. Even thinking about it gave Maxi a shiver. Yet, Techxin's mother only smiled, gently wiping a smear of blood off his cheek. How could such a savage come from someone so sweet and bubbly?
"My sweet, bloody, messy prince," she had said, eyes full of love. "Do you want to hold your brother?"
Maxi laughed to himself, the memory playing out like a vivid scene.
"My sweet messy prince," he repeated under his breath with a grin, chuckling softly.
He remembered Techxin didn't flinch. Didn't get embarrassed. He simply nodded, and his mother handed Maxi to him. Maxi had expected death. But what he received was… warmth. Cold at first, then slowly warmer. Then, the smallest smile broke across Techxin's face.
"Can you do me a favor, my sweet prince?"
Another nod.
"Can you protect him for me? And Auntie Ray?"
Techxin had looked down at him—small, defenseless—and said in a quiet voice that would later echo in Maxi's heart for years:
"Of course. I will protect him with my life."
Maxi shook his head, smiling softly. One of his first memories in this world. And still one of the best.
A knock on the door brought him back.
"Come in," he called.
A maid with cold blue eyes and ink-black hair stepped inside.
"Do you need new books, Young Master Maxi?" she asked.
"Yes, please."
She bowed and exited. A few moments later, another knock.
"Come in."
This time, it was Angelina.
"Hello, Young Master," she said brightly.
"Hey, Angelina. How are you?"
"I'm good. You?"
"Good… I guess."
She tilted her head. "That's the first time you've ever asked me that."
Maxi shrugged. "It crosses my mind every single time."
"Only took you two years," she said, arms crossed.
Maxi frowned. "I don't know what to say half the time."
Angelina sighed. "So what are you still doing here?"
"Waiting for my books."
She groaned.
"By the way… is Tengen still sick?"
"Yep."
Another sigh. They waited together until another knock came. The maid returned with six books, setting them neatly on the shelf beside his bed. Maxi nodded.
"Thank you."
She curtsied and left.
Maxi picked up the first book, sniffing the spine. It smelled of mint, lavender, and the faintest trace of lemon—his favorite blend. His sanctuary. With a soft sigh, he cracked it open and let the world fall away.
An hour passed. One book down.
He stood up and glanced at Angelina, who was now lying dramatically on the floor, staring at the ceiling like a ghost who had given up on life.
Maxi chuckled. "Let's go to the main castle library."
Angelina groaned. "Why do you hate me so much?"
Maxi just walked out.
Angelina grumbled, dragging herself to her feet before following him out of his small castle and toward the main one.
"You're not going to struggle every time we enter, are you?" she asked.
"Well," Maxi replied, "I don't really have a choice. My blessing hasn't awakened yet."
She rolled her eyes but opened the grand door for him. As he stepped inside, the pressure pressed down on him like a god's palm. Still, he managed to stand tall.
Angelina shook her head. Drama king. But she kept her mouth shut. She had a garden sprite, after all—no room to talk.
They walked the left hallway, thankfully avoiding any of his siblings. After descending the spiraling stairs, they reached the heart of the main library. The scent hit Maxi like a gentle wave: mint, lavender, lemon—stronger now, richer, alive.
His smile returned.
Without hesitation, he wove through the maze of shelves to the center, where Colen always sat. As usual, Colen was dressed well—black wool cable knit sweater, dark blue blazer, black pants, and matching dark shoes. He looked like a shadow carved from thought.
Maxi approached the long table. Colen didn't look up.
"So you're here," he said, his voice cold but not unwelcoming.
Maxi nodded and took a seat across from him.
"I'm ready to finally learn the main history."
Colen met his eyes, nodding once.
"Then let's begin… with The New Age of Blessings."