*Arner!*
*Arner!*
*Arner!*
The echo of Patri's voice rang through the café, located along one of the main roads in the northern district of the noble city of Korma.
It wasn't a new café—perhaps seven centuries old or more. Wooden floors, neatly arranged tables and chairs, abstract wall art, and soft symphonic music filled the air. A gentle breeze carried the scent of roasted beans. The weather was clear, the atmosphere calm, and the coffee brewed slowly over medium heat.
*Arner* (startled): Yes… what is it?
*Patri* (in a low, trembling tone): Come on, brother. Did you forget? Today is the day of the Last Supper!
*Arner* (thinking): So the cursed day has finally arrived… I had hoped it would come later. But fate isn't a car you can steer.
(He sighs.)
So, Patri… didn't my father tell you the truth about him and my mother?
*Patri*: He did. But what he told me was different from what you said.
*Arner* (his sleepy eyes fixed on Patri, filled with curiosity and anticipation): How? What did they tell you?
*Patri* (her brown eyes gazing softly at Arner, her face glowing):
He said that he and my mother met during the Patris test. Their bond was built on a long-term alliance. Despite their humble backgrounds, they shared ambition. Their families insisted on forming a proper household, so they married to pursue their dreams without obstacles.
After you and I were born, they began to feel attached to us… we became their legacy.
*Arner*: That may be true for you—he loved you. But I was just a suggestion from Uncle Daitan. A document. A proof to both families that they were serious… you understand?
*Patri* (objecting gently): Arner, you're being too hard on yourself. Try to move past it. I truly love you, and I love our parents. Why would he hate you? You're part of him.
*Arner* (sighing): Let's go. It's getting late. We've stayed in this café too long.
(He thinks to himself.)
This café… it hasn't changed in seven centuries. Technology barely advanced since the rise of the Granting Sovereign, Omberial Kremer.
---
*Half an hour later…*
*Father* (calm and composed):
I am Train Vayern, guardian of this family. Today is the last day we gather. The last supper we share.
As you've been told, this is the Last Supper—a meal where we share food and declare our goals. Each of us has a dream to pursue.
At this table:
Asila, the sharp-featured mother with flowing garments and fierce temperament.
Patri, her daughter, who inherited everything from her.
Arner, the quiet child with a troubling curiosity, sleepy eyes, and uncombed black hair.
And me, the father—clever, strong, and… moderately handsome.
I've given up the Evolution Map. I will embark on a journey to find an old and powerful friend.
*Mother* (in a soothing voice, calming Arner's tension):
I am Asila Raymin. I will take Patri to the noble city of Korma to grow and develop our powers.
*Father* (in a deep, commanding voice):
Arner, speak. Share your goal.
*Arner*, seated at the table, surrounded by food that pleased the eye more than the stomach, in a home that defined comfort, finally speaks:
My goal is to understand the Evolution Map.
Not to imitate you, Father, but out of a burning curiosity about the origin of this world—a world that shifted from normality to defying the laws of nature.
But something troubles me… not my goals, but my identity. I've heard your story, and Mother's. Your clever alliance. But who am I really?
*Father* (interrupting):
Silence. Is that how you see us? You never told us this before.
Yes, our marriage was a strategic alliance. Your birth was proof of that. But don't focus on the origin—focus on the reality.
If we were truly manipulating you, why would Patri exist? Why would we give you a sister?
*Arner* looks at his father, contemplative. He lowers his gaze to the floor and thinks: That makes sense… was I imagining my suffering all along?
*Father* continues:
You must understand—humans are born innocent. We cannot judge whether one is good or evil from birth.
Our recklessness back then led us to treat some aspects of life too superficially.
*Mother* adds:
You are my son. My blood. A mother's chance of abandoning her child is 0%.
But that chance rises if the role doesn't suit her… especially among corrupted women.
*Arner* (shocked, thinking): I can't respond. I can't speak. Was I carrying a false burden all this time? Trying to justify my pain?
*Father* (firmly):
This is our final meeting as a family. From now on, we may become enemies… or allies, if our ambitions align.
Isn't that right, Arner?
*Arner* (thinking): What is Father hinting at?
*Father* continues:
You'll join your uncle Daitan and his son Kard in the city of Korhait.
A new life begins in a new environment.
---
*The next day…*
*Arner* (gazing at his uncle's massive house):
Uncle, how's life? How's the family? You look like someone who just got roasted in front of a million people! Hahaha… ahem, okay, I'll come in.
*Arner*: Where's Kard?
*Uncle*: Training for the Patris test.
*Arner*: Test… Patris ?
He wants to become a Paropatris ?
---
°•°
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