Chapter 22 – Daren
The safehouse was silent that night, save for the faint crackle of oil lamps. Shadows danced along the stone walls as Daren unlocked a chest hidden beneath the floorboards. The metallic scrape echoed in the still air, a sound that made Aric lean forward, curiosity burning in his young eyes.
Inside lay old scrolls wrapped in leather, brittle tomes sealed in wax, and fragments of parchment bound together with thread. Their surfaces shimmered faintly, as though resisting the passage of time. The air itself seemed to thicken, mana trembling uneasily around the texts.
"Father…" Aric whispered. "Why does the air feel… heavy?"
"Because," Daren said quietly, lifting one of the scrolls with great care, "what rests here was never meant to exist. Knowledge forbidden, written by those who defied the gods. This is Taboo."
Aric swallowed, eyes widening. "You told me Taboo is dangerous. That it corrupts."
"And it does," Daren replied, unrolling the scroll. Strange glyphs and shifting diagrams pulsed faintly with blue light. "But it is also power. Power stolen from the gods themselves. Those who learn it walk a razor's edge—either they ascend beyond mortal limits, or they fall into madness and ruin."
The boy leaned closer, entranced by the moving symbols. The letters seemed alive, reshaping themselves whenever he blinked. His temples throbbed as if the scroll itself pressed against his mind.
Daren noticed his discomfort and snapped the scroll shut. "Not yet. Your mind is too raw to carry such weight. But you must understand what this means." He set the scroll aside and retrieved a smaller, darker tome. Unlike the others, it bore no shimmering runes. Instead, its cover was plain, scarred, and stained with age.
"This," Daren continued, "is a record of the first mortals who rebelled against the system. They discovered the siphoning patterns, the ways in which mana is stolen from every soul. They wrote the first formulas to cut those chains. That is why the gods hunted them, erased them, and called their works Taboo."
Aric hesitated. "If the gods erased them… why keep this knowledge alive? Wouldn't it be safer to destroy it?"
Daren's eyes darkened. "Safer, yes. But safer for whom? The gods? The system? Or us? Remember this, Aric—the system thrives on obedience. It fears nothing more than mortals who question its design."
Aric fell silent, staring at the tome. A faint fire of defiance stirred in his chest, small but steady. "And you… you want me to learn this?"
"Not now," Daren said firmly. "But one day, yes. Because you will face enemies who draw from divine wells. If you do not understand their power, you will fall before it. But if you master this forbidden knowledge…" His gaze sharpened, voice lowering to a whisper. "…you may stand equal, or greater."
He opened the tome briefly, revealing crude diagrams—circles drawn within circles, connected by lines that seemed to bleed off the page. Aric's eyes caught on one phrase written in bold: "The Chains of Aion."
"Aion…" Aric murmured. "The Entity?"
Daren nodded grimly. "The first and greatest jailer. Everything in the system flows back to him. These Taboo texts call it the 'Cycle of Harvest.' What mortals believe is growth is merely fattening cattle for slaughter. Even the gods are bound to it."
Aric clenched his fists. "So all of us… everyone alive… we're nothing but fuel?"
"Yes." Daren's voice carried both sorrow and steel. "And that is why we must know the truth. Even if it damns us. Because ignorance is a chain, and knowledge—however forbidden—is the first blade that can cut it."
Aric's gaze lingered on the tome. Fear battled with resolve in his young heart, but the latter slowly won. For the first time, he understood why his father bore such a heavy burden.
He met Daren's eyes. "Then teach me, Father. Even if it's Taboo. I want to learn how to cut the chains."
Daren studied him for a long moment, then closed the tome with finality. "In time. For now, you will watch. You will listen. And when the day comes that you are ready, I will place the blade in your hands."
The lamplight flickered, casting long shadows across the chamber. In the silence that followed, Aric felt the weight of destiny settle upon him—heavy, dangerous, and inescapable.