Raiden Alaric

I made my way through the arena corridors, boots echoing on polished stone. The back of my shirt was damp with sweat and blood. My face probably looked like I'd gone twelve rounds with a minotaur. And yet...

I looked down. Not a single tear.

My shirt, the front of it at least, was pristine. Untouched. The seams were still sharp, collar still stiff, fabric still clinging like I was fresh out of a designer catalog.

"Really?"

I gave it a tug, checked the sleeves. Still intact.

Not a single stain, let alone wrinkle...

Either Chronos had pulled something without telling me, or Selena had stitched in some kind of protective sigil nonsense when I wasn't looking. Because I definitely was thrown into a wall, kicked off another one, and got slammed into the ground with enough force to make a crater. There was no way this shirt should still be breathing, let alone looking freshly ironed. Also, my body still hurts like a bitch. "Protective sigils" my ass. Chronos, do you care more about the shirt than me?

I made a mental note to ask both of them later. Odds were high it'd been one of their little ideas. Knowing Chronos, it was probably him. The man's sense of humor operated entirely on "watch what happens when he notices."

I turned the next corner and paused.

Sylva was standing there, hands already glowing with that soft, signature light, like moonlight filtered through glass. Her expression hadn't changed. It never really did. Her gaze was as even and cold as a mountain lake.

"You're limping," she said.

"You should see the other guys."

"I did. You left one embedded in a wall."

"So... you're saying you enjoyed the show?"

She blinked once. Maybe a breath thinner than air. For her, that was practically applause.

She raised her hand toward my face, and that's when I really saw it. Her aura. The way it moved.

Ribbons of soft color twisted around her hand, light blues laced with silver and traces of something deeper, lavender or maybe violet, shifting with each breath she took. The energy flowed like liquid silk, each strand weaving around her fingers with deliberate precision. It moved like a quiet stream. Smooth, even, without wasted motion. Her movements showed neither aggression nor strain.

It's beautiful...

It was like watching living art. I nearly forgot to breathe.

The soft coils of her aura drifted around her wrist and fingers like a dance I'd never been invited to. Graceful and gentle, but too precise to be accidental. I could've sworn it hummed a little. Something that resonated in the air itself, vibrating through my bones.

I couldn't help it. My throat tightened. Because I realized something in that moment, something that felt like a blade to the heart and a gift all at once. I never would've seen this before. Words would never have been enough. Seeing this was because of being Awakened.

All this time, and I'd been blind to something like this.

She reached out and pressed her palm against my jaw. Warmth surged into me. Her aura flowed into mine, and I felt it working. The pain began to fade, replaced by a steady hum of healing energy that seemed to rebuild damaged tissue at the cellular level.

I could sense how her aura worked now. It moved in careful layers, identifying injuries, cataloguing damage, then flowing precisely to each wound. The energy wrapped around torn muscle fibers, accelerated cell regeneration, reduced inflammation. It was surgical in its precision, medical in its application.

"You're staring," she said without looking at me.

"Hard not to. Your aura is incredible."

"Because you're bleeding."

"You've got a poetic way of phrasing things, Sylva."

"I could let you keep the bruises."

I chuckled, soft. The sound felt too loud in the silence between us.

Her aura moved again, sealing a shallow cut above my brow. I felt the wound close in real-time. The skin knitting together, new cells forming, the sharp sting fading to nothing. The relief almost made me exhale too hard.

"How's it feel?" she asked, her voice steady.

"The healing?"

"The Awakening."

I looked away from her hand and toward the corridor ahead.

"Loud," I said quietly. "It feels loud in my chest."

She gave a small nod. "You're adjusting."

"Think I'm doing okay?"

"You're upright."

"That's high praise coming from you."

Her hand dropped away from my skin, but the warmth lingered. A faint trace of her healing aura remained, like an echo in my system.

"Thanks, Sylva."

She said nothing, but I saw the smallest pause in her step. The faintest shift in her eyes. It was enough.

I started walking again, but part of me stayed back there, still watching her aura drift in that soft glow, still wishing I could hold onto the way it moved. Some things in this world needed to be seen. And now, finally, I could.

Then Sylva stopped and turned to me. "I'd recommend learning aura suppression soon. It's a requirement otherwise you need to be wearing a bind at all times. I can grab a bind for you back in the viewing box."

My eyebrows rose. "Oh that's right!" I had completely forgot about it. I was so excited about Awakening that I had forgotten about the damn law.

Upon awakening all Ascendants must either learn how to suppress their auras and be certified by the A.A. or wear a bind until you enter an academy and learn it there. Is it dumb? Perhaps, but it makes sense. There are too many cases of people who awaken and accidentally hurt someone.

Hence the creation of a bind. The binds will constantly eat away at your ambient aura and when you try to use it, it basically locks it. I will absolutely never wear a bind. I just got this power, why would I want to lock it away? I'm definitely learning suppression.

"Care to teach me?"

She tilted her head, wondering if I was being serious. "You do know that suppression takes most people weeks to learn properly, right?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Humor me."

Sylva didn't respond right away. She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable as always. Her golden eyes studied me, sorting through a list of reasons not to waste her time.

"You really are serious," she said at last, her voice soft but flat. "You just awakened, and you already want to skip a structured curriculum and certification process... just to avoid wearing a bind."

"Can you blame me?" I said, spreading my hands. "I just got this power. I've waited for it for years. You expect me to lock it away like it's a fire hazard?"

"It is a fire hazard," she replied without missing a beat. "That's exactly the point."

I offered her a grin. "Then I guess you better teach me how to burn the place down safely."

A breath escaped her. It might have been a sigh. Or the ghost of a laugh. Hard to tell with her. Finally, she turned and began walking.

"Come on. We'll find a quiet spot."

I blinked. "Wait, really?"

"You asked to be humored," she said without looking back. "Let's see if you're worth the effort."

I followed after her quickly, heart already picking up speed. No way I was going to let this opportunity slip.

We reached a quiet overlook tucked behind one of the side halls, just above the arena corridor. The sound of distant conversation and movement echoed faintly below, but up here, it was peaceful. Sylva stopped near the railing, checked that no one else was around, and turned to face me.

"This'll do," she said simply.

I leaned against the wall beside her, flexing my fingers as the ambient hum of my aura continued to roll just under the surface of my skin. Still loud and wild. I could tell people nearby probably felt it, and I hated that.

Sylva raised one hand and snapped her fingers once.

"First, stop thinking about it like a fire. Your aura isn't a flame you have to smother."

She extended both hands in front of her, palms relaxed, fingers spaced. Her aura shifted in a way I hadn't seen before. The ribbons of light that normally flowed around her began to change. Instead of reaching outward, they pulled inward. Compacting. Condensing.

I watched in fascination as the energy wrapped itself tighter and tighter around her core, like silk being wound around a spool. The visible manifestation of her aura grew smaller, more concentrated, but I could sense it was still there.

"It's breath. You let it fill you, then you learn when to hold it. Suppression is about intention. You instruct your aura where to go."

She turned her palm upward, and I saw it more clearly now.

Her aura hadn't vanished. It wrapped tightly around her wrist and fingers like silk drawn through a needle. Quiet. Contained. But every bit as potent as before.

"You want to anchor your presence within. Let the aura settle into your core, and guide what leaks out. Too much tension, and it'll fight back."

I nodded slowly, trying to mirror the stance.

"Okay, so... inhale. Picture it like breath."

Sylva stepped closer and gently touched my sternum with two fingers.

"Here. That's your center. Your aura originates from your core, radiates outward through your meridian pathways. Direct your aura back into this point. It doesn't vanish. It folds inward."

I closed my eyes. At first, nothing happened. My aura flared again in response, like a reflex. The energy pushed outward harder, as if rebelling against the idea of constraint.

I grit my teeth. "It's flaring worse."

"Because you're impatient," she said, voice calm. "You've spent years learning to pull power out. You've had exactly ten minutes trying to rein it in."

"Fair," I muttered, focusing again.

I took a breath. Long. Measured. And this time, instead of trying to suppress the power, I listened to it. I gave it direction. Instead of "stop," I tried "stay."

I could feel my aura responding differently this time. Instead of pushing against an invisible wall, it began to slow. The wild energy that had been radiating outward started to curl back toward my center. Slowly, the pressure around me began to fade.

The sensation was strange. Like learning to control a muscle I'd never known I had. My aura wanted to expand, to fill the space around me, but I was teaching it to coil inward instead.

The air around me didn't feel heavy anymore. The oppressive weight that had been pushing against everything nearby began to lift.

I opened my eyes. Sylva studied me carefully.

"It's crude. Incomplete. But it's a start."

I grinned, wiping sweat from my brow. "Think I'll pass certification?"

"Eventually."

I laughed, and for a moment, just a moment, I swore I saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

Progress.

I closed my eyes again and took another breath. This time, I didn't rush it. I thought back to what she said. Anchor it, guide it.

So I tried something new.

I let my aura spread through me first. Let it roll along my limbs, curl around my shoulders, settle low in my stomach. I watched it with that new sense I'd only just started tapping into. Then, I began folding it inward, but differently this time.

Instead of trying to pull everything back evenly, I focused on the excess. The spillover. The noise. I pulled that back toward my core like a thread being reeled in through a spindle.

I started with my fingertips, drawing the energy back along my arms. Then my shoulders, pulling it down toward my chest. My legs came next, the aura flowing upward like reverse lightning, collecting at my core.

I directed it in layers. Surface, then depth. Arms, then spine. Legs last.

After a few minutes, the tension around me faded even more. The air felt still. I wasn't leaking anything anymore.

Sylva's voice cut in quietly.

"Wait."

I cracked one eye open. She had stepped a little closer, watching me with her usual deadpan expression, except this time her eyes were slightly narrowed. Curious. Focused.

"Do that again," she said.

I tilted my head. "Which part?"

She motioned faintly with her fingers. "The way you coiled it along your limbs before you pulled it inward."

I raised a brow, but did as she asked. I flared my aura slightly, just enough to feel the warmth rush back into my arms and legs, then gradually wrapped it inward again. Starting from my fingertips and working toward my center. Like rolling up sleeves, but with energy instead of fabric.

Sylva stared at me like I had just casually recited a technique scroll meant for intermediate Ascendants.

"How are you doing that?" she asked flatly.

I blinked. "Doing what?"

"That layering. Most people just try to shove it all back at once and smother themselves in the process. You're folding it in sections, like muscle groups. That's advanced technique. Where did you learn it?"

I scratched my head. "I didn't. I just... it made sense. I noticed when I tried to pull it all in evenly, it pushed back. But if I let it flow and gave it space to settle, it felt easier to move. Like shifting your balance in a fight."

She stared at me for a long moment, silent.

"That's advanced thinking," she finally said.

"Is that a compliment?"

"It's a medical concern," she said, almost dry enough to be believable.

I grinned. "Well, don't worry. I'm figuring it out."

Sylva gave a long blink, then turned her head slightly away.

"You're learning too fast," she said quietly.

"Another medical concern?" I asked with a grin.

She didn't answer. Instead, she gave a soft, barely-there sigh, then turned on her heel.

"We're going back," she said, walking ahead at a steady pace.

I blinked. "That's it? No dramatic declaration? No test number two?"

Sylva didn't slow down. "You passed the first one by rewriting it. And I'd rather return you on time."

I jogged a few steps to catch up, falling into step beside her. The corridors of the arena felt calmer now, or maybe it was just me. My aura hummed quietly under my skin, no longer flaring out like wildfire. It was manageable. Mine.

She didn't say anything else as we walked. But every so often, she glanced sideways at me. I caught her doing it once. Her gaze flicked away immediately.

Yeah, she was surprised. Maybe just a little impressed.

Illya Vel'areis

The wine was finally starting to taste better now that I wasn't drinking it out of tension. I swirled it gently in my glass, legs crossed, body relaxed into the seat. Most of the nobles had returned to idle conversation. Some were even laughing again. A few still hovered near the snack table, pretending they hadn't devoured half of Raiden's cooking like starved animals.

Across from me, Ella sat with her shoulders down and her hands resting lightly in her lap. Her expression was calm, and for the first time tonight, it wasn't forced. That alone said plenty.

"He really changed the mood," Ella said, her voice soft, almost surprised, as she turned the stem of her glass slowly between her fingers.

I nodded slightly, letting the rim of my glass brush against my lower lip. "He completely owned it. Everyone here was locked up tight when we arrived. Now they're laughing, gossiping, pretending they belong here again."

I tilted my head slightly, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. "Are you sure his family isn't of noble lineage? He has some impressive social skills. Although... I'm not sure if it's intentional or if he just doesn't care who's watching."

Ella let out a small breath, almost a laugh, but it fell quickly into something quieter. She looked down, fiddling with the stem of her glass again. A faint flush touched her cheeks, and she tried to hide it by focusing too hard on the swirl of her drink.

I took another sip of my wine and set the glass down carefully, the stem clicking softly against the table. I turned my head slightly toward Ella, my voice low but easy.

"So," I said. "Have you applied to any academies yet?"

She blinked, caught off guard, then shifted in her seat to face me more directly. "Yes," she said, brushing a hand through her hair. "I've been applying quietly. Some here, but... mostly overseas. Anywhere far enough that House Vel'aeris won't be able to drag me back into politics the moment I turn eighteen."

I smiled faintly, watching the way her fingers tightened just slightly around the fabric of her dress. Good, she was planning instead of drowning in her thoughts.

"And what about Raiden?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. "You are planning on letting him go, yes?"

Her breath hitched, just a fraction. "W--what do yo—" she started, but I gave her a look that stopped her cold.

"You know exactly what I mean, Ella."

She hesitated, lips pressing into a thin line.

"You're using him," I said, voice calm but deliberate. "To keep Vaelik off you. To stall the marriage."

Ella set her glass down firmly, the clink sharper than intended. "You're right," she said quietly, meeting Illya's gaze directly. "I have been using him. And the worst part is, he probably knows it." She looked toward where Raiden had disappeared. "But I don't know how to stop without losing the only person who's ever made me feel like I could choose my own path."

"If the Sentinels weren't keeping such a close eye on things due to recent events," I continued, "he would have been removed already. Quietly. Without any of this ceremony. We still have no clue as to who his backer is. Even the Brightmoors appear to want to avoid provoking him."

The room around us hummed with soft conversation and occasional bursts of laughter. A world that only existed right now because of him. I reached over and picked up my glass again. I took a sip and leaned back into my chair and let my eyes flick lazily across the box.

"He made this happen, you know."

Ella blinked and looked up.

I gestured slightly with my glass. "The way everyone is laughing. Eating. Pretending they were never tense when they walked in here."

Ella said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed a little.

"He eased the tension and made it easy to forget it was ever here."

Ella exhaled, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth before she caught herself and looked away.

"He made me feel comfortable too," I admitted with a smirk. I saw her fingers tightening slightly around her glass.

I softened my voice, letting the edge fall away. "I know he helped you as well."

She looked down again, staring into her drink like it held all the answers she didn't want to say out loud. I didn't press further. There wasn't any need.

We both knew the truth. Raiden had made it easy for everyone to breathe again. But Ella couldn't keep clinging to him when she leaves. And I couldn't afford to tell her that I might have pushed the situation even further without her knowing. Then again, it was his idea.

I can't tell her just yet.

I leaned back, letting the conversation dissolve into a comfortable silence. The tension was finally gone. But something told me it wasn't going to stay that way for long.

The quiet between us lingered, broken only by the soft clink of glassware and the low murmur of nobles rediscovering their fake smiles. I let myself settle into it, one leg crossed neatly over the other, swirling the last of my wine in the glass, savoring the taste now that it no longer felt like medicine.

Then something shifted. I stilled, glass halfway to my mouth. It was faint at first, like a ripple traveling across still water. A low thrum pressed against the edges of my senses. Barely there, but impossible to ignore once noticed.

Ella remained unaware, her attention still on the idle conversation around us. Her bind muted everything, kept her comfortably insulated from the slow, deliberate build of pressure I could feel brushing against the box.

This is the aura I sensed before...

The pressure crept closer. Every second stretched thinner. The conversations around us blurred into soft, meaningless noise, like the murmur of a crowd before a storm rolls overhead. I kept my posture relaxed, my hands resting loosely against my lap, but my focus sharpened to a fine point.

The approaching aura was... interesting. For a Green rank, the suppression was remarkably clean. Not the fumbling, uneven control most newly Awakened managed, but something deliberately crafted. The energy itself was modest, as expected, but there was an oddly mature quality to how it moved. Like watching a novice swordsman who somehow understood perfect form despite lacking strength.

Buried beneath that control, there was something else. Something oddly familiar. A resonance I couldn't place, like hearing a melody I had forgotten I once knew.

I tilted my head slightly, letting my gaze flick toward the entrance without turning my body. I needed to see who it was. I needed to confirm what my instincts were already whispering.

The aura wasn't alone.

Another followed beside it, smaller, more delicate. Áine. My eyebrows rose after sensing her near this individual. They were walking side by side. They were close. Closer than I had expected.

There was no mistaking her. Even muted, even restrained, her presence was unmistakable. Clean. Sharp. Like water flowing around a blade's edge.

The realization tightened something in my chest. Father had sent out Áine to investigate quietly. She never lingered where she wasn't needed. If she was returning now, and someone was following behind her, it meant she had found something... or someone.

I sat up a little straighter.

The aura trailing her was restrained. Almost unnaturally so. It pressed against my senses with a strange, sharpened weight, like a blade hidden beneath silk. Whoever it was, they were suppressing their presence with an eerie precision, one that mirrored Áine's own muted hum.

Actually... it's almost identical to Áine's.

Yet, woven underneath that suppression, there was something else. A faint thread of familiarity that tugged at the edge of my memory. I couldn't shake that feeling. More like a ghost of a feeling I had once brushed against and forgotten. Now it stirred awake, elusive and half-formed, like a dream slipping through my fingers.

I shifted slightly, crossing one leg over the other under the pretense of getting more comfortable. My gaze stayed locked on the door. My pulse quickened, but I kept my face neutral.

The door to the box eased open with a soft creak.

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The air shifted immediately. Stretched. Every beat of my heart seemed to echo longer than it should have, every breath thickened in my lungs as if time had grown heavy.

Áine stepped through first. Her composure was immaculate, every strand of hair in place, her expression as placid and smooth as a still pond.

Yet when her eyes passed over Ella and me, she winked. It was so fast, so slight, I almost doubted I saw it.

Áine never winked. She was professionalism embodied. For her to let even the ghost of amusement pass through her eyes sent alarm bells ringing through my mind.

Beside me, Ella stiffened. She noticed the change in behavior even if she didn't understand it.

Áine moved to the side with the grace of a whisper, positioning herself neatly without drawing attention to anything other than her brief and shocking breach of decorum.

Then the doorway widened, and someone else stepped through.

Raiden entered the room with quiet confidence. His skin was unmarked, the injuries from whatever he got into completely healed by Áine's careful work. But something had changed beyond the physical. There was a new energy about him, a presence that hadn't been there before. His hair was still damp from exertion, his shirt rumpled from the battle, but his body carried no signs of damage.

Just what did you get yourself into?

His shirt hung loose and rumpled, but still somehow unscathed. The collar sagged low enough to catch glimpses of his collarbone and the faint sculpting of his chest. There was nothing performative about it. He had crafted this image through violence alone. It was simply what remained after the storm.

Ella's breath hitched, her eyes catching on Raiden's blood-smeared jaw, that damn impish grin of his. I couldn't blame her. I felt it too, a pulse of heat under my skin as I took him in: sweat glistened on his brow, his broad shoulders still carrying the tension from whatever hell he'd just walked through.

That raw, untamed energy hit like a shot of whiskey, stirring something reckless in me. And then there was that trademark smile, impish, infuriating, like he'd just won the universe and wanted everyone to know it.

Gods, Raiden, tone it down before I do something stupid...

There was no slump to his posture, no heaviness in his steps. The signs of injury and fatigue were carved into his skin, but none of it weighed him down. If anything, it sharpened him. There was a rawness to him now, an intensity that made it hard to look away. His body carried the marks of a fight, but none of the weakness. Only the edge.

Beneath that bruised exterior, I could feel it clearly.

His aura was properly contained, barely registering compared to the Violet and Nexus-ranked presences in the room. But there was something noteworthy about the way it was suppressed. Too refined for someone who should still be learning the basics. Most Green ranks either leaked energy everywhere or choked it off entirely. His flowed in controlled patterns that spoke of natural understanding rather than brute force. His didn't leak or strain. It wasn't brute discipline either. It felt... intuitive. Like watching a beginner swordsman land clean technique without knowing why it worked, just that it did.

The surge I had felt earlier had been his. That flash of power cracking through the distance like a blade drawn too fast to see. It had been Raiden all along.

Ella still hadn't realized it. Her bind dulled her completely. She sat there, eyes wide, hand still clutching her dress, drinking in the sight of him without understanding why the space felt so different now.

Gods, get it together, Illya. You're sitting here drooling over blood and sweat like some... like some...

I paused mid-thought, blinking hard.

Wait.

My gaze snapped back to him with sudden clarity. The controlled aura. The precise suppression. The layers of energy that shouldn't exist in someone who just—

Oh!

The realization hit me like a brick to the face. Raiden had Awakened.

My heart kicked into overdrive, and I was on my feet before I knew it. All those stuffy rules, stay composed, keep it proper, burned to ash in a heartbeat. None of that mattered when he'd crossed the threshold every Ascendant dreams of. That deserved more than a polite golf clap.

I crossed the space between us in quick strides, drawn to him like a moth to a bonfire. His eyes found me just as I reached him, that grin flickering with surprise at my sudden approach.

I threw my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight. He froze for a split second, probably blindsided, but then his shoulders eased. His arms came up, slow, deliberate, his calloused hands grazing my back.

His breath warmed my ear, and that damn grin, sharp, impish, all Raiden, pressed against my shoulder as he murmured, "I finally did it."

"You did it," I said into his shoulder, my voice thick with more emotion than I'd planned. "Congratulations, Raiden. You really did it."

His laughter rumbled against me, warm and wild, and it made my grin split wider.

I finally stepped back, keeping my hands lightly on his arms a second longer than necessary, reluctant to let the moment slip away. His Wicked Ember Grin hadn't dimmed, sharper now, more alive, flashing against the blood streaking his cheek, sweat still gleaming on his throat from whatever battle he'd just survived.

Movement caught the corner of my eye. It was Ella.

She rose before he'd fully entered, her glass abandoned on the table.

"Raiden," she breathed, and there was something raw in her voice, relief, pride, and a fear she couldn't quite name. She crossed the distance between them with determined steps, no longer the hesitant noble, but someone acting on pure instinct.

Her steps faltered as she crossed the distance. There was something different about Raiden now, something that made approaching him feel like stepping too close to a wildfire. The blood smudged on his jaw, the way his shirt clung to his chest, that grin blazing like a beacon. It all combined into something that made her cheeks flush pink.

When she reached him, she paused just a breath away. Her lips parted, but for a second, nothing came out.

"Congratulations, Raiden," she said, and then surprised herself by reaching out to touch his arm lightly. "I know how much this means to you. How long you've fought for it." Her voice grew stronger, more certain. "Whatever happens next, with academies, or whatever you pursue. I want you to know that watching you never give up taught me something about not giving up either."

Raiden's grin softened just a fraction, his gaze still sharp from adrenaline, warming for a heartbeat as he nodded back.

That was all it took.

The others, the ones who'd been sitting, sipping, pretending to ignore the shift in the room's energy, finally stirred. Chairs scraped back. Conversation thinned. One by one, the nobles rose, each trying to mask the sudden urgency.

It always went like this. Someone Awakens, and suddenly everyone remembers they have manners. Or at least ambitions.

The nobles swept in with practiced smiles and calculated congratulations. Raiden accepted it all with that easy grin, seeming to enjoy how his presence had shifted every power dynamic in the room.

Ella drifted back to my side, her eyes following his every movement. I couldn't blame her, he carried himself like he owned the world now.

And honestly? He deserved every bit of it.

The last of the nobles drifted away, leaving us room to breathe. Their congratulations hung like a haze, but Raiden was already itching under the spotlight. His shoulders loosened, sweat still clinging to his collar, blood crusting his knuckles. That damn grin flickered back, sharp and mischievous, like he'd just danced with death and loved every second.

Ella edged closer, her gaze catching on that grin, blood still smudged on his jaw. "So... how did you do it?" she asked, voice soft but genuine, fingers nervously brushing her skirt as her cheeks warmed. "You've been struggling for so long. What finally changed?"

Raiden scratched the back of his neck, blood-dried knuckles flexing a little. "I finally got the push I needed," he said, voice light but honest. "It was close a few times... but this time, I clung to it. Didn't let go. That's all it was."

It was obvious there was more to it, but he wasn't about to unwrap the entire story here in the middle of a celebration. I could see the way his gaze shifted, distant for half a heartbeat, like he was still replaying pieces of it in his mind.

I leaned one hip against the table and smirked. "You gained your revelation, then?"

He looked at me, and that grin curled a little wider.

"Yeah," he said. "I did."

I tapped my finger lightly against my cheek, pretending to think. "So what was it?" I asked, eyebrows lifting.

Raiden clicked his tongue once and wagged a finger at me, a mock-scolding look crossing his face. "Nuh uh," he said with a playful drawl. "We talked about this, remember? Law of equivalent exchange. You wouldn't tell me yours until I gained mine." He crossed his arms casually, still grinning. "So you first, Illya. Fair's fair."

Ella laughed softly under her breath, the sound like the first real spark of warmth she had let out all night. She pressed a hand lightly to her mouth as if to stifle it, but the amusement lit up her entire face.

I rolled my eyes dramatically, but a smile tugged at my lips anyway. Of course he remembered. It wouldn't truly be Raiden if he wasn't going to make me pay up.

Before I could come up with a clever excuse to dodge Raiden's demand, a new presence shifted into my awareness. Two, actually.

I straightened slightly as Ruvyn and Yrathea approached.

Even without looking, you could feel when they entered a conversation. It was the kind of natural gravity that came from a lifetime of people making space for them.

Raiden, to his credit, didn't flinch. Didn't shrink. He just turned to meet them, posture loose but alert, that same easy grin still playing at the corners of his mouth.

Ruvyn was the first to speak, his voice low and even, carrying a weight that made nearby conversations quiet just a little.

"Congratulations, Raiden," he said, offering a hand.

Raiden accepted it without hesitation. Their hands met in a firm, brief shake. Ruvyn's expression didn't change much, but there was a slight nod of approval that spoke volumes more than any flowery compliment would have.

Yrathea stepped forward next, her movements smooth, calculated as always. Yet even she allowed the faintest smile to flicker across her lips. "Few manage to make such an impression before their Awakening," she said. "You've made a strong beginning. Make sure you continue the momentum."

It might have sounded like an order from anyone else. From her, it was genuine acknowledgment. High praise in a room like this. However, I know my parents. They don't praise you because of your achievements. Rather if you are complimented by them, they now deem you as something valuable.

I swear if this woman tries to set Raiden up with someone...

Raiden gave a small, respectful bow of his head. "It's all thanks to you," he said simply. He avoided both overplaying the moment and awkward fumbling. Just enough humility to show he understood the weight behind their words without groveling for it.

A brief silence followed. Ruvyn and Yrathea exchanged a confused glance. They had done nothing to help his Awakening. If anything, their political maneuvering had made his situation more difficult. Illya tilted her head slightly, brow furrowed. Even Ella looked puzzled.

But Raiden's expression remained perfectly sincere, as if his words made complete sense. Only he understood what he truly meant.

"Father, Mother," Ella interjected quietly but clearly, drawing surprised looks from both parents. "Raiden has been nothing but respectful to our family, despite... everything." Her chin lifted slightly, a flash of her own steel showing. "Perhaps we should focus on congratulating him rather than analyzing him."

Ruvyn and Yrathea exchanged a brief glance, surprise, reassessment, and perhaps a touch of pride at their daughter's unexpected steel. Ruvyn's expression softened slightly as he turned back to Raiden with a more genuine nod of acknowledgment. Yrathea's calculating gaze shifted, as if seeing both Raiden and her daughter in a new light.

The surrounding space finally decided to settle. The tension that had ruled the box earlier was gone, replaced by something calmer, more genuine. Even the nobles lingering at the edges of the gathering watched from the corners of their eyes, calculating quietly what this shift might mean.

Ruvyn and Yrathea exchanged a brief glance before returning to their seats, giving Raiden the room to breathe again. It was as clear a sign as any: for now, they recognized him. And by extension, so would everyone else in this box.

Raiden exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders once, the smile tugging wider for half a second before he turned his attention back to us.

"So," he said, looking pointedly at me with that dangerous glint returning to his eyes. "About that revelation you owe me..."

I narrowed my eyes at Raiden, but he just grinned wider, rocking back on his heels with an ease that made it obvious he had no intention of giving me even an inch.

"You really are stubborn," I said, folding my arms with exaggerated patience.

He shrugged, casual and entirely too pleased with himself. "A deal's a deal. Equivalent exchange. You agreed."

"You love me and you know it," Raiden said, voice low enough that only Ella and I could hear it.

I met his gaze evenly. "Keep dreaming."

"You hugged me like you were greeting a returning war hero," he said, smile widening into something almost dangerous.

I pointed at him, arching an eyebrow. "That was tradition. You Awakened. It would have been rude otherwise."

He laughed under his breath, clearly seeing through the flimsy excuse, but he let me have it.

Without warning, a broad arm slung itself casually around Raiden's neck. One moment, he stood freely, smiling, breathing easy. The next, he was caught in a loose headlock, his hair being thoroughly and unapologetically ruffled.

"YOU FINALLY DID IT, YOU BASTARD!" the man's voice boomed, cutting through the room like a hammer through glass.

Every conversation died mid-breath.

The reaction was immediate and visceral. Guards stationed along the walls jerked upright. Several of them, Blue rank and lower, reached for their weapons, feet sliding instinctively into combat stances.

The smarter ones, the Violet ranks, the Nexus Ascendants scattered among the box, froze completely. They understood that someone entering the secure viewing box unnoticed, silently, and without triggering any alarms meant unthinkable power.

I stood frozen, heart pounding painfully against my ribs.

A spartan physique characterized the man towering over Raiden. Broad-shouldered, thick with muscle, every inch of him spoke of honed brutality, controlled strength. Sun and wind had tanned his skin, and the simple coat hanging loose around his frame darkened it further.

A crucifix glinted against his bare chest where his shirt hung open.

Dark brown hair, slicked naturally back, framed a face that looked like someone had carved it from stone, worn and sharpened by experience.

And his eyes.

Crimson. Bright as molten metal, burning against the arena lights. They held an awareness that seemed to take in everything at once, amused and calculating.

He didn't throw his aura out. He didn't need to. His presence alone made the room feel heavy, like the walls had shrunk in on themselves, like the air had thickened too much to breathe normally.

The man finally released Raiden with a rough, affectionate shove, then grabbed a tray of loaded nachos off the nearest table without asking. He scooped up a dripping pile of cheese and toppings, completely unmoved by the silent panic threading through the box.

Nobody stopped him. Nobody dared.

Raiden, meanwhile, wiped his hand through his hair, shook his head with a grin, and looked at him like he had just expected it.

"Come on, Chronos," Raiden said, voice light, almost teasing. "I just Awakened and the first thing you do is ruffle my hair? Seriously?"

He offered only his first name, nothing more.

Chronos... Raiden's mentor.

The name slammed into me like a blade. Both Ella and Raiden had mentioned that name before. This was the teacher Raiden had spoken of.

The nobles still sitting tried to mask their fear, offering strained smiles or stiff nods. The ones standing stayed frozen, torn between the urge to fight and the deeper, colder knowledge that they wouldn't survive two steps toward him.

Ella stepped slightly forward, positioning herself between the unknown threat and the other nobles. An instinctive protective gesture that surprised even her. Her bind might have dulled her senses, but her noble training recognized danger. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

Because standing this close to him, even without a flicker of killing intent, even with his aura tucked neatly away, it was like standing beside a sleeping leviathan. A creature that could awaken with a yawn and break the world without meaning to.

Raiden smiled like he belonged there. Like he was part of that same chaotic force, carrying it in his blood and bones.

Chronos crunched another bite of his nachos and turned, his crimson eyes sweeping the room lazily. They landed on Ella first. Then on me. He tilted his head, chewing slowly, studying us like we were more interesting than the arena still rumbling faintly in the distance.

I straightened instinctively under that gaze, refusing to let my expression falter. Ella, on the other hand, looked ready to sink through the floor.

Chronos grinned around the mouthful of food, swallowing with a heavy gulp before nudging Raiden sharply with his elbow.

"So, I didn't know you were actually planning on expanding," he said, voice pitched just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "Consider me impressed, one elf wasn't enough, so you got yourself two."

Ella made a strangled sound that might have been an attempt at a dignified protest. I covered my mouth with the back of my hand, pretending to cough so I wouldn't laugh outright.

Raiden, to his credit, just gave a lopsided grin. "You know, you're the worst influence I've ever had."

Chronos shrugged, entirely unbothered. "Best, worst, same difference. You survived, didn't you?"

He finally turned back to Raiden properly, a more genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Tell me. How'd it feel?"

Raiden's grin faded into something real. Something deep. The sharp, teasing edge fell away, replaced by a slow, deep satisfaction that settled over his face.

"Like breathing for the first time," he said. He raised his hand and watched the aura flowing off his fingers like thin lines of smooth smoke.

The energy was visible now, barely perceptible ribbons of light that danced around his knuckles. It moved with purpose, responding to his thoughts, his intentions. There was no wild flailing, no uncontrolled surges. Just clean, directed power.

Chronos' grin widened slightly, eyes gleaming with pride. The quiet, weighty kind.

"Good," Chronos said simply. "Because that's what it should feel like. If it doesn't burn through you and rebuild you from the inside out, you didn't really Awaken."

Raiden nodded once, the two of them locked in a strange, silent understanding.

Chronos leaned in a little, voice dropping lower, almost private.

"Hold onto that feeling, Rai," he said. "Because it's crucial when you begin advancing through the ranks. You need a deep understanding of yourself each time you do."

A nervous shuffle scraped the floor behind us. One noble, dressed in a deep green coat, finally worked up the courage to approach. He cleared his throat once, a thin, reedy sound that barely cut through the heavy silence.

Chronos didn't even glance at him. He reached out lazily, still chewing, and without even looking, grabbed the nearest chair with two fingers and dragged it across the floor between himself and the noble. A casual, silent barrier.

The message was obvious. Wait your turn. If you even get one.

The noble's face turned a shade paler, but he froze in place, clearly realizing that pushing further would end very badly.

"By the way," Raiden said, stretching his arms lazily, "Selena's got some explaining to do if she was the one behind making my shirt indestructible."

Chronos snorted through a mouthful of nachos. "You think she'd waste a protection sigil on you?" He frowned after a second, chewing thoughtfully. "Actually, I take that back. She'd probably build you a mech if it meant she could have you to herself for a day."

Raiden's eyes lit up immediately. "Wait, really?"

"Ask her yourself," Chronos said, shrugging. "But that shirt was mine. Gift for when you finally stopped being a disappointment."

Raiden gasped dramatically and clutched his chest. "And here I thought we had something real."

Chronos glanced at me, crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, I trust you. Just not with anything I want returned in one piece."

Before Raiden could throw something back at him, a voice chimed in from nearby.

"Tell me about it..." Ella muttered, rubbing her temple with two fingers.

All three of us turned toward her, amusement breaking across our faces at the same time.

"What?" Raiden said, throwing his arms out. "I take great care of my clothes."

Ella rolled her eyes. "The shirt I got you lasted a month before it ended up in ruins."

Raiden shook his head. "Hey, they attacked me first. How was I supposed to know they were going to grab me by the shirt?"

Ella gave him a dull stare. "You called that beastkin an ass sniffing pup with anger issues."

"I only ever speak the truth. Illya, back me up here."

I gave him a look that said "Sureeeee..."

Raiden frowned. "Don't look at me like that. You know I always keep my word."

Chronos laughed openly, the sound loud and sharp, thumping Raiden hard enough on the back that he stumbled a step forward.

"You hear that?" he said, still chuckling. "Even she knows you're a walking disaster."

The rest of the viewing box was silent. Watching. Nobody else dared to move. The silence around us was survival instinct, pure and simple.

Chronos finished off another handful of nachos, wiped his hand lazily on a napkin, then tilted his head toward Raiden with an easy, crooked smile.

"Oh yeah, Rai," he said, voice warm and way too sweet to be innocent. "Where are my Anchors?"

Raiden blinked, still caught halfway between laughter and confusion.

"Your what?"

Chronos gave an exaggerated, almost sympathetic sigh.

"You know," he said, waving a chip vaguely in the air, "the fancy bracelets you've been wearing for four years? The ones that made sure you didn't accidentally turn a jog into a ballistic missile test."

I watched Raiden glance down at his wrists. His eyes widened slightly.

"Uh..."

Chronos' grin widened, positively beaming now. "Well?"

"I, uh..." He scratched the back of his head. "I might've... left them outside."

Chronos just clapped his hands once, still smiling. "Be a good lad and go fetch them, would you?"

Raiden stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Chronos said cheerfully, "walk your happy self back to wherever you left them, pick them up, and bring them back here."

"But I—"

"No buts. Just walking. It's good for your circulation."

Raiden hesitated, clearly considering whether being set on fire would be preferable to the walk of shame he was about to undertake. He knew better than to argue.

With the world's most dramatic sigh, he turned toward the door. Before leaving, he paused and turned around. Slowly lifted his arm towards Chronos, mimicked reeling in a fishing line, then raised his middle finger at full mast and shook it at Chronos before leaving.

Chronos lifted his tray of nachos in a mock salute.

"Don't trip on the way there!" he called after him, voice full of laughter.

The room's tone shifted once more, tension thickening like smoke. Raiden had taken his easy energy with him. What remained was the heavy, almost tangible presence of the man who had materialized in the center of the viewing box.

Chronos brushed crumbs off his coat with a lazy swipe, then turned toward my parents with a smile that was all teeth.

"It's roughly a ten to fifteen-minute walk there and back," he said casually, pointing one chip toward them. "And while we're waiting, I'm sure you've got questions."

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The silence stretched uncomfortably.

Finally, Ruvyn moved first. He rose from his seat with deliberate ease, knowing exactly how dangerous this moment could be. My mother, Yrathea, stood beside him a second later.

They approached Chronos with steady, measured steps. The same way you approached a strange beast when you weren't sure if it would bolt or bite.

My father stopped about a body-length away. "A pleasure to meet you," he said, voice polite but wary. "Ruvyn Vel'aeris, of the Vel'aeris family. This is my wife, Yrathea."

Chronos looked up from his nachos, gave them a once-over, then nodded. "Chronos."

No House name. No title. Just that.

"We wanted to personally congratulate Raiden on his Awakening," my father continued carefully, "and those responsible for his guidance. We assume that would be you?"

Chronos shrugged. "He did the work. I just kicked him in the right direction when he got lazy."

My father hesitated, searching for the right words. "Regardless, it is no small achievement. Especially given the circumstances."

Chronos smiled, but it wasn't friendly. It was sharp. "You mean the ones you helped create?"

The air between them tightened. My mother's gaze sharpened slightly. My father's hand twitched before he forced it still.

Chronos wiped his hands on a napkin, tossed the empty tray onto a nearby table, and leaned back casually against the railing.

"No hard feelings," he added lazily. "Actually, ended up working out better this way. Thanks for that."

My father didn't bristle. He simply inclined his head again, lower this time.

"We're glad to see he rose to the occasion," he said.

Chronos smiled wider. "Oh, he hasn't even started yet. But he's done with the likes of you."

My father cleared his throat quietly. "We are nobles of the Celathandria realm, members of the Skyhaven Sect. A sect recognized and respected across multiple realms."

It was an assertion. A reminder of status.

Chronos tilted his head, curious. "I know what you are. You lot love throwing around titles but always fold when your name means nothing."

He crunched loudly on another chip. "You think 'noble' and 'sect' means anything? I know your class system."

He lifted his fingers, counting. "One. Deities. Two. World Leaders. Three. Sovereigns of Power. Four. Nobles. That's you. Politics in nicer clothing. Five. Sect Officers doing the actual work. Six. Civilians keeping society from crumbling. Seven. The forgotten ones at the bottom."

He looked at Ruvyn again. "So when you say you're a noble of House Vel'aeris, I hear: you're ranked four out of seven. Still at Nexus, so nothing to boast about."

He smiled wider. "You think that ladder means anything to me?"

No one answered. The nobles nearby shrank in their seats.

"Rank, bloodlines, reputation," he said, tapping his chest, "none of that matters when you're eating dirt."

Chronos cut in, voice distracted. "Oh right. I also hold particular disdain for swine who use their children as bargaining chips and then call themselves parents."

There was no rise in tone. No dramatic pause. He said it with calmness that made the words hit harder.

There were rules about what you could say to sect leaders. Lines you didn't cross. Chronos crossed them without hesitation, smiling like he was doing everyone a favor.

"So," he said to no one in particular, "we still have roughly eight minutes. Anyone else can ask questions if you want to stop pretending you aren't about to piss yourselves."

I nearly choked trying not to laugh. Ella squeezed her eyes shut, battling similar urges.

My parents returned to their seats, choosing their words very carefully. The entire room was suffocating under the tension, but Chronos still looked completely relaxed.

Raiden Alaric

When I stepped back into the viewing box, I could feel the eyes. The Anchors dangled from my hands, feeling lighter than before. My awakened body had finally been given permission to function at full capacity.

Chronos was waiting, licking cheese off his fingers like he hadn't just terrorized a room full of nobles.

I held the Anchors out like borrowed library books.

He didn't take them right away. Just gave me that slow, deeply patronizing smile.

"Aw, you brought them back. I was starting to think you'd leave them like old shoes."

"You weren't specific on whether that was off the table."

"Should've known you'd try to cheat freedom." He plucked them from my grip, spinning one around his finger. "Still intact. Good. Alright. Arms up."

I blinked. "What?"

"Go on. Nice and easy."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm serious. But the Anchors are even more serious."

I started backing away. "I had those on for four years straight. I earned a break."

"Exactly. Which is why I upgraded them."

Before I could protest, he closed the distance, raised both my arms, and with two practiced motions, clipped the Anchors onto my wrists.

They clicked.

I collapsed completely. My entire body dropped like the floor had been ripped away. My knees hit stone, arms pulled down hard enough to wrench my shoulders. My fresh aura tried to flare, but the Anchors clamped down, converting it into crushing pressure.

I hit the ground with a grunt, gasping for breath. My fingers clawed at the air instinctively.

The weight was heavier. So much heavier.

It felt like gravity had decided to personally remind me who was in charge. The Anchors were actively draining my aura, forcing my body to compensate with raw physical strength I didn't have anymore.

"No... no, no, no..." I wheezed. "I just got them off. I was free..."

Chronos crouched down in front of me, resting an elbow on one knee, still smiling like a proud uncle.

"Potty training's over, Raiden," he said. "Now the real work begins."

I glared up at him through sweat-soaked hair. "I hate you."

His grin widened. "I'm counting on it. You'll figure out how to properly use your aura to strengthen your body soon enough."

I stayed on the ground, breathing through clenched teeth. Sweat collected along my jawline, dripping to the floor.

But I wasn't helpless anymore.

I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, let the pain dull into background noise. I thought back to the fight. To how aura could be directed, compressed, focused.

I can do that.

My aura stirred, clumsy at first, slipping across muscle and bone. The Anchors fought me every step, trying to drain the energy before I could direct it. But I pushed back.

I felt my aura respond, sluggishly at first, then with more purpose. Instead of letting it flow wild and free, I compressed it. Concentrated it. I drew the energy into specific muscle groups, reinforcing them against the artificial weight.

My legs first. I felt the warmth surge through my thighs and calves, giving them strength to support the crushing load. Then my arms, pulling aura into my shoulders and biceps until they could bear the weight without shaking.

My feet planted firmer. My arms lifted an inch, then more. My knees locked. My spine straightened.

I rose slowly, one breath at a time, aura flowing steady and controlled through my body. The weight remained, but it became something I could shape around rather than collapse beneath.

When I stood at full height, a little shaky but upright, Chronos clapped once.

"That," he said with a grin, "is how you start getting used to it."

I turned my head, still catching my breath. "You increased their weight. You really couldn't help yourself."

Chronos shrugged. "You're stronger now. Your training needs to match."

"Any chance we dial them back?"

"Not a chance."

I flexed my arms again. The strain wasn't unbearable now that my aura was doing some of the work.

The sensation was fascinating. I could feel my aura working like an internal support system, flowing to wherever I needed extra strength. It was like having a second skeleton made of pure energy, one that could shift and adapt.

Chronos stepped beside me, tone dropping slightly. "Applications for academies are in a few months. I've got plans for you. Serious ones. Full aura drills, control tests, kinetic manipulation, maybe even elemental interactions if you can stop breaking your own ribs."

"Sounds painful."

"Pain is part of the curriculum. Also, I noticed you're already using aura suppression. You're figuring it out on your own, good."

I tilted my head. "Was it that obvious?"

"Only to me. You're masking your aura, but it's not consistent. I'll teach you how to wrap it cleaner."

"That sounds ominous."

"Oh, it is," he said with a wink.

He gave me one more heavy pat on the shoulder, nearly buckling my leg again, then strolled back toward the others.

I flexed my fingers again. The Anchors pulled. My aura resisted. And for the first time, I didn't feel caged. I felt ready.

I could see the way my aura flowed now, could sense its patterns and rhythms. The Anchors were a teacher. Every step forced me to be more precise, more intentional with my energy. Every movement required me to understand exactly how much power I needed and where to direct it.

It was exhausting. But it was also exhilarating.

I took a few experimental steps, feeling my aura adjust automatically to compensate for the weight. My body was learning, adapting, growing stronger with each breath.

This is just the beginning.

I rejoined the group, moving carefully but steadily. Illya and Ella both watched me with expressions that were part concern, part admiration.

"So," I said, settling back into the conversation like I hadn't just been crushed to the floor and rebuilt myself from scratch, "where were we?"

Chronos laughed, loud and genuine. "That's my boy. Ready to get back to work already."

I grinned, feeling the weight of the Anchors with every movement, but also feeling the strength of my aura pushing back against them. "Always."

The viewing box had returned to something resembling normalcy, but the undercurrent of tension remained. Everyone had witnessed something tonight that they wouldn't soon forget. Raiden Alaric had Awakened, and his mentor had just reminded an entire room full of nobles exactly where they stood in the grand scheme of things.

And somehow, standing there with upgraded Anchors weighing down my arms and my aura flowing like controlled lightning through my veins, I felt more alive than I ever had before.

The real work was just beginning.

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