The one thing Ray enjoyed above all else about his infrequent visits to the orphanage was the peals of carefree laughter unique to children.

Well, most children. Some who arrive at these ancient doors, arrive too late, having grown up too fast.

“Seems quieter than usual today,” Ray said, as he and Norina passed one of the smaller dorm rooms that housed a dozen beds, holding almost twenty kids aged between ten and fifteen, all girls. They were being instructed by Marina, Norina’s elder sister, on the proper way of arranging their beds, especially the ones on the floor, which were reserved for the older kids.

Even with more than three dozen such rooms in the massive orphanage, they were operating well above their maximum capacity, reminding Ray of one of those bizarre races where the game is rigged, as supply never can catch up to demand, yet everyone keeps laying bets because that is the only bet the house, or in this case, life, allows.

“One of the girls,” Norina said in a subdued voice, “Miranda…the Guards fished out her body from the Telis today.” Her voice remained steady, even when her face was contorted in rage and regret.

“The girl who ran away last month?”

“Yes.” Norina’s tone turned frosty. “One of the Madame’s from the Riverside found her before I could. Didn’t even last the month.” She hesitated, glancing up at Ray. “Master, could you perhaps…”

Ray let out a sigh. “I could, but it won’t do much good in the long run. Might even reduce the number of intakes at the orphanage. Or even the University,” he said. “There is a delicate balance maintained by all parties concerned. Guards wouldn’t look kindly upon the Clerics infringing on what they view as their domain. The nobility would regard this as some sort of ploy concocted by the Clerics to further our power and influence. Even the very people we would be trying to help – the masses, the down-trodden youths of Riverside and the Narrows – they think associating with us will somehow corrupt their soul. Height of stupidity. The most benevolent soul in history and their Creator was one of us.” Ray shook his head, venting his long-held frustration. “Even the free kitchen we offer only attracts those driven to desperation through hunger.”

Norina pursed her lips and gave an unhappy nod. “Any word from the Chancellor about the renovation project?” she asked as the two of them passed yet another overflowing dorm. “We could definitely use the extra rooms.”

Even this ancient complex of half a dozen buildings had an old wing, as it was called. It had been here since before the death of Allfather. “Not yet, I’m afraid,” Ray said. “But it’ll be done before next winter. More for the optics of being able to proclaim we’ve restored a building created by the hand of Aimin himself, than any urgent need for housing hungry and cold children.”

“As long as it gets done, reason matters not. At least not to those who need it the most,” she said. “Ah, here we are.”

The sturdy teak door of the room before them was closed, although calling it a room might be a bit of a stretch. Barely ten feet by six, it had initially been a cupboard, used for storing cleaning supplies. Despite the general mistrust of the populace at large, the growing number of children meant that it had found a better use.

It was currently only half filled, holding a solitary occupant, one who was undoubtedly aware of their presence, as his head turned to follow the two of them even through a foot of solid rock. There was a possibility of their voice penetrating through stone and timber, but the way his head tracked their movements indicated that the reason behind his unusually acute senses might be something less mundane.

A momentary frown flashed across Ray’s face. The situation was even more delicate than he’d imagined.

“I’ll introduce you, Master,” Norina said, looking at the door, clearly nervous.

“No need. I’ll handle it from here. You have enough on your plate as it is,” Ray said in a genial voice, and then, gently pushed the door open.

The room beyond held no furniture other than a two-story bed. A tall gangly aditarun boy with sharp angular features, who looked to be in his late twenties, sat on the lower of the two beds, mind tense and body rigid, unerringly following his face with cloudy unseeing dark-blue eyes.

Ray gave him a greeting nod. “I’m Master Ray. You must be Venkat,” he said, keeping his voice relaxed and tone friendly.

All he got in return was an almost imperceptible nod of the head. Then, the boy’s eyes locked onto Ray’s Heart Chakra.

Ingrained prejudice of the lower stratum of society ensured his first and instinctive reaction was fear. It also meant that his senses, or more specifically his Space Senses, were newly Awakened and lacked range, which in turn meant Ray could be more relaxed around him than around a fully-fledged Maestro. He had more than enough preparations to handle even them of course, but this would definitely be a good exercise in masking his kernel signature from a user capable of perceiving the world through Space Senses, albeit a new and inexpert user, with only the Heart and Spine Chakras Awakened, the latter being the defining trait of an Enfolder.

But he had to be careful so as not to reveal the fact that he himself possessed such senses. It was nothing short of a miracle that the boy had Awakened both the Heart and Spine at the same time. But as a result, he must be drowning in new and utterly confusing sensations.

“Do you know what you sense?”

“Chakra. Heart Chakra,” came the timid but certain reply.

While both emotions were genuine, the certainty was pure. The timidity hid a deeper fear. Children aren’t born afraid. Life teaches them fear, if they live long enough. An adult, in this case a very young adult, learns to mask that fear, unfounded as it may be.

Stuck in a room barely large enough to even stretch his long legs, the young man was intimidated by the presence of a Master Cleric. Which explained his fear.

As for the timidity, it made him sound younger than he looked – or in other words, he didn’t hide the fear as well. Not surprising, if what Ray suspected about his heritage – and thus age – turned out to be correct. Despite his physical appearance which suggested he was in his late twenties, his behavior and speech patterns indicated he wasn’t a full-blooded aditaru, but a half-born probably no older than twenty.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

A possible Enfolder who had grown up surrounded by humans, and shared their sentiments – humans who happened to be Arunian.

It was fortunate for the boy that he’d met Ray after coming to the orphanage. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or not at this turn of events.

“Anything else?”

The boy’s eyes darted downward from the Heart. “Stomach Chakra. Awakened Stomach Chakra. You’re a Power Cleric,” Venkat said, sounding even more frightful than he looked, or felt. Lacking the training to be able to control his kernel signature, even with his Heart Chakra opened, the boy’s emotions were quite transparent, and continued to be genuine, Ray was glad to note.

“I hear you were involved in an accident. Can you tell me about it?”

A somber and somewhat resigned nod followed. He’d probably been asked this very question far too many times already. But it couldn’t be helped.

“We were coming here from Tropia. In an ox-cart. Left almost everything behind.” His voice dropped. “Promise of silver makes fools out of us all. Should never have left home.” With cloudy eyes gazing into something only he could see, the half-aditarun boy’s mind was lost in some memory. A painful one, judging by the signs of intense grief on his face.

“We?” Ray prompted.

“My parents and I,” Venkat said. “Past Lake Brulin was a narrow stretch of forest, with the stone road cutting across many streams. We were crossing a bridge over one of those streams when I spotted a horse-drawn carriage coming the other way.” His head dropped, and he held onto his tears with admirable determination.

“Then?”

Blinking his glistening eyes, Venkat continued. “Pa got a new job here in Jivanpur, as a cook at a fancy inn. The teamster, my Pa’s friend, had agreed to bring us here at half the price.” He paused. “The last thing I remember was one of the horses of the carriage neighing in fright. Then the cart swerved right off the bridge,” he said, voice numb with shock. “Don’t even remember hitting the water. Next thing I knew, I was lying face down in the dirt at the other end of the bridge, on the banks of the little stream, belly full of water and body in agonizing pain.”

An old and yet fresh memory came unbidden to the surface of Ray’s mind. “And your parents?”

“Once the pain subsided, I was over the moons to learn that, for the first time in my life, I could sense the surroundings. What I sensed made me wish I’d remained blind.”

Ray had underestimated the boy’s upbringing. His style of speech was distinctively Eastern, and Ray had limited interactions with natives of that particular Satrap of Arunia. Or rather, most of his interactions with people of that region involved members of more affluent background. The boy was from lower middle-class stock.

“My mother had saved both me and Pa. Was bleeding badly though. Internally,” Venkat said. “Bade me to run to the nearest town, no more than five miles away. Back the way we’d come.” After another poignant pause and a couple of attempts at swallowing, he finally managed to say in a cracked voice, “Sprinted all the way there.”

Ray ran a hand over his face, touched not just by the boy’s story, tragic as it undoubtedly was. He had more in common with him than he’d first thought. Not just three Chakras, but a past experience. The most traumatic experience of his life. Suffered on a day etched indelibly in his Heart Chakra.

The day he’d lost his mother.

Only instead of an unfortunate road accident – an act of Aimin – it had been as a result of their caravan being ambushed by savage bandits.

Arunian refugees.

Ray could still feel the pounding of his heart as he ran to fetch the healer from the nearest town, large and prosperous enough to warrant the presence of even a Cleric Healer. But even the greatest Healer cannot bring a soul back from the Eternal Halls.

“Brought the only healer, a herbalist, back with me,” Venkat continued, thankfully unaware of his tumultuous heart. “Pa was already beyond his help. Mother died in my arms,” he finished.

Then, the dam broke, and the tears finally flowed.

Ray didn’t even get the closure of being able to bury his mother. He’d brought the Healer back only to find a smoldering pile of freshly burned corpses, valuables stripped and bodies denied even the dignity of a proper burial. The bandits reputedly were members of a sect newly arisen in Arunia, one that worshiped Om. Former and excommunicated members, but still.

The memories of the next few weeks of his life were a bit of a blur, but the events of that day had set Ray on a path that has led him here. Every single major event of his life could be traced back to that day. It has shaped his destiny, as he will shape the destiny of millions. A destiny molded and guided by faith, forged in the fire of knowledge, knowledge imparted to him on that momentous day.

The day he had been reborn.

Less than a year after her death, his foster-father, Mirror – or Hawk to use the less favorable sobriquet – had offered him the opportunity to avenge his mother. Ray was offered a gift beyond reckoning, and was asked to take on a duty – a service – of great importance.

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation on his part, as he knew, in the depths of his Heart, that it was the true purpose of his existence.

He still got goosebumps recalling the glowing light of the High Priest, and the Heavenly Symbols of his Heart Chakra which projected a kernel signature that had reduced Ray to a quivering mass of dread and delight.

Touched by the Allfather, he’d been, on that day.

Literally.

After the final preparations in the legendary Chamber of Creation, the same light had entered the very core of his self, and then, while Ray was still floating inside a pod filled with viscous luminescent purple fluid, the pain had started.

After how many days Ray still didn’t know, he’d become cognizant of his surroundings, and sensed His presence. A mere projection of light and kernel, he’d been, a shadow peeking through the Veil. But even that shadow had been strong enough and familiar enough to make a grown man weep, let alone a teenager like Ray. It’s like Allfather had always resided within him, but was hidden till then. Next coherent thought had revealed the miracle he’d been promised had indeed become a reality. Despite his initial misgivings, Ray had embraced the power of the enemy.

And thrived.

Gathering his thoughts on the present, on the sobbing young man, Ray gently placed a hand on Venkat’s shoulder.

“I’m not certain,” he lied smoothly, having ascertained the boy’s capabilities, “but I suspect, in the not too distant future, we may be welcoming a couple of Maestros who would be able to help you more than I ever could.”

Venkat glanced up, unseeing blue eyes bloodshot with tears. “But no matter how powerful I become, they’ll still be gone.” Then, an ember of hope was rekindled in those eyes. “Maybe I’ll see them again. In the Eternal Halls.”

Taken aback by hearing an apparent aditaru utter those words, Ray gave the boy a genuine smile. “I’m certain you will.”

“What should I do now?” asked the lost boy.

In his mind’s eye, Ray could still see his mother’s doting and proud smile while she rebuked him for his overenthusiastic use of fire.

Prompted by a memory from that day, the day he’d undergone his Second Awakening, Ray gave Venkat the same piece of advice that had been given to him by his mother.

“Make sure you use the Gift of Aimin to the fullest extent possible by serving others, and not yourself.”