Chapter 35: Ties That Bind and Break
As the morning sun filtered through the window of Darius's room, he finally set his quill aside. Leaning back, he stretched, a sense of purpose flickering in his eyes. "So much to do," he thought, a smile playing on his lips as he reviewed his notes.
"The Arcane Ascendancy System, it's akin to a hammer. It forces the body to adapt, bending mana to its will. Barbaric, yet undeniably potent."
Following the duel with his parents, Darius had seized the opportunity to delve deep into the intricacies of their systems with them, eager to refine and enhance their capabilities.
During this time, he also took pains to convince his parents that the presence of the Elemental Kings was unknown to him. Concealing the truth weighed on him, yet he believed some secrets were best kept unshared.
"I can't ask them to start from scratch; they lack dantians to rebuild. Gaia's systems are too brute-force, becoming one with the user once they establish an aura," he mulled over the observations scrawled across his pages.
In this world, once a child was tested and found compatible with the Arcane Ascendancy System, a crucial next step unfolded. They were entrusted to the guidance of a 3rd tier Inceptor Mage, one whose elemental affinity matched their own. This mage then became the initiate's mentor, steering them through the intricate initiation process. This tradition ensured that the novices were well versed in the foundational practices of their element.
Darius reflected on his mother's interpretation of this tradition. On its face, it offered guidance to initiates, yet beneath that, it harbored ulterior motives. It acted as a means to forge alliances between families, intricately stitching a network of relationships and power. Additionally, it served as a way to subtly influence and direct the minds of newcomers, sculpting their views to align with the prevailing interests of the towers. This understanding unveiled the complex interplay of mentorship with the maneuvers of political control and influence.
"The sects and clans did the same, always seeking to control what they cannot. It seems humans, no matter the world, follow the same pattern," Darius noted.
He considered the peculiar initiation process within Gaia, specifically the transition to the Melding Sanctum. This chamber, painstakingly built with specialized materials and spells, was pivotal for an initiate's elemental affinity alignment. Darius felt a mix of intrigue and skepticism as he learned that, from a distance, an Inceptor Mage would guide the initiate through exercises and breathing techniques via a communication crystal.
But really, his mother shared, the sanctum did all the work aligning the elemental mana. The exercises didn't do much except distract the initiate from the isolation. Yet, despite these precautions, some still crumbled before the process concluded, unable to withstand the intense solitude and the relentless, invisible force of the sanctum.
The Melding Sanctum fundamentally bound the Arcane Ascendancy System to the initiate, by immersing the individual in a constant flow of elemental mana, the sanctum begins a profound transformation. It gradually replaces the person's innate life force aura, akin to the natural energy field that surrounds all living beings.
Through this intense immersion, the chamber effectively rewrites the initiate's core energy signature, transitioning it from its natural state to one deeply infused with elemental mana. This process lays the groundwork for the formation of a mage's aura, a manifest shield and wellspring of their power. It's a transformation that entwines the Arcane Ascendancy System so closely with the user that their very essence becomes a conduit for elemental force, marking the birth of their aura as a tangible, wieldable extension of their will.
"Father mentioned that the Manaforged Knight System begins the same way, but knights face this stage alone, without a guide. You're left to navigate the process by yourself," Darius mused. The thought of a young child, barely six, enduring such solitude weighed heavily on him.
Then, out of nowhere, a scent wafted into the room, pulling his thoughts from the arcane. Darius paused, inhaling deeply.
"Tilly is making breakfast," he realized, a sudden awareness of his own hunger washing over him as his stomach loudly complained. It had been days since he last ate.
"Bet Haku is already there," he muttered, slipping into his boots. A smirk crossed his face. "I wonder if Tilly has noticed anything yet?" With that, he strode from the room, drawn by the inviting smell of breakfast.
Darius ambled through the mansion's halls, his steps light. "What a beautiful day," he remarked, pausing briefly by a window to admire the view of the lake.
He resumed his pace, approaching the kitchen door he inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar scent. "I really don't know how I ever lived without this woman's cooking."
He pushed open the door, his smile spreading, "Morning, Tilly!"
Tilly, busy at the fireplace, turned with a flat "hmm," barely acknowledging him as she continued her work.
Darius's smile faltered as he stepped inside, "You look lovely today!...What a beautiful day too, don't you think?"
His attempt at sparking conversation was met with the same indifferent hum.
Ever so slightly, Darius buried his head in his shoulders, "Is it...the library?" He ventured, his tone cautious.
"The library? What's wrong with the library?!"
"Nothing! Nothing, I just, we made a bit of a mess in there, but, I swear I'll help clean it up." Darius's face reddened as he rushed to change the subject, "but you look bothered, are you and Danny arguing again?"
Her expression flat, Tilly repeated her dismissive "Hmm."
Darius cleared his throat, "Did I do something?" Anxiety tinged his voice as sweat beaded on his forehead.
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"Nope, not at all, not a single bloomin' thing," Tilly retorted, her whisking growing vigorous. "Not a word, not a 'how are you, Tilly?' It's fine, I just worry is all. But who am I? Just the Ole maid."
After furiously mixing a bit more, she slammed her bowl down. "You think I can't recognize your voice?! You think I wasn't there every day of your life?!" Pointing at Darius, her face flushed with anger, her voice trembling, "You think I couldn't tell it was you?"
Overwhelmed, she crumbled, burying her face in her hands, collapsing as her sobs broke through, "Those horrible, horrible, horrible screams."
Darius rushed to Tilly's side, wrapping his arms around her, "I am so sorry, Tilly, I...I should have told you. You should never have had to hear that."
Tilly's arms enveloped him in return. Through her embrace, Darius felt the profound impact of his actions, the pain and fear she harbored. Mocking his earlier trivial concern, 'What's for breakfast?' served as a grim reminder of how his choices affected those he held dear.
Tilly's sobs subsided into quivering breaths as she looked up at Darius, her eyes searching his for answers. "What's happening to you, Darius?" she asked, her voice trembling. "I can see you're changing, and it's not natural. All these secrets, the screams... The chaos and explosions, the entire village heard them yesterday. It's all too much."
Darius furrowed his brow, a storm of thoughts gathering behind his gaze, 'We've asked too much of her, she deserves to know.'
"Tell the villagers that my mother was experimenting with a new spell, that there was an accident," he began, his voice steady. "That should calm their worries." Taking a deep breath, he looked into Tilly's eyes, a solemn weight in his admission. "I've developed my own magic system, Tilly. It's different from the mages and knights. I'm no longer a dud."
Shock and awe painted Tilly's face, her eyes wide as she drew a sharp breath, the implications of his words settling like a heavy cloak around her.
Darius continued, the gravity of his journey reflecting in his tone. "Since this is all new to me, I really not sure what will happen as I train. I'm deeply sorry for keeping this from you and for all the worry I've caused. It's just...until I get stronger, I have to keep it a secret, or the mage towers will come for me."
"If they hunt me down, they will come for those I love, everyone close to me," Darius's voice broke, a shiver running through him as his hands clenched into fists, knuckles whitening. "Dragging you all into this... I regret it. But harm to you or my family," he paused, the silence a heavy cloak, tears edged the brim of his eyes, "that, I cannot allow."
Tilly watched, the initial alarm in her eyes softening to understanding as she took in his trembling form, the tears that refused to fall, and the rage simmering beneath. She leaned forward, her embrace enveloping him, "you're still a child, Darius. Your world doesn't have to be so big. And you should have told me, cause there's nothing I wouldn't face, no mage tower I wouldn't spit on, to stand with this family."
"I know...and I promise, no more secrets," Darius murmured, his voice muffled as he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, a sniff breaking through the quiet. He lingered in the embrace, the rigid set of his shoulders easing, the fortress of tension he'd built brick by brick starting to crumble in the warmth of Tilly's embrace. In her arms, a sense of calm enveloped him, a tranquility he seldom admitted needing.
Tilly, though not his birth mother, held a place in his heart as profound as any maternal bond. In the world he hailed from, where the concept of motherhood could stretch across many depending on one's lineage, Tilly's presence had blossomed into something deeply valued, a connection as significant as that with his own mother, a treasure he wished to never part with.
Pushing Darius gently away, she met his gaze, "Everyone has their secrets. I don't expect you to share everything with me; there are things I know I'm not meant to know. However," she paused, a softness in her tone, "you can at least tell me you're alright. And a hug now and then wouldn't hurt." Her smile, framed by the lines of years and wisdom, held a depth only a mother could embody.
"Here, let me give you a hand," he said, reaching for her arm to assist her to her feet.
"Tilly?"
"What is it?"
"Have you seen Haku around?" He inquired, brushing off his trousers.
She paused, turning back to retrieve her bowl. "Now that you ask, no, I haven't seen him for a few days. Figured he'd be with you." Sniffling into a cloth, she continued, "Perhaps he's found a girl."
Darius chuckled, settling at the counter to lend a hand with the meal. "With his attitude? I highly doubt it."
For the next few hours, Darius lingered in Tilly's company, together they completed the morning's cooking, then shared a meal with his parents. The conversation lightly danced around the edges of Darius's Arcane Talisman Technique, careful to skirt the depths of its mysteries. It was a morning draped in tranquility, a rare break for Darius, until Tilly, armed with a bucket, ventured towards the library. Her reaction upon entering sent a audible wave of shock through the estate, a disturbance potent enough to stir the wildlife in the surrounding forest.
----
In the depths of Fang Root Forest, where sunlight dared not tread, ancient trees towered, their trunks twisted by time. Moss glowed faintly, a subtle hint of the magic infused in every leaf and stone. Vines draped heavily, weaving through the air, suggesting paths hidden from the untrained eye.
The air vibrated with mana, a physical presence that saturated the soil beneath the thick canopy. Creatures, their forms shaded by the underbrush, darted silently, leaving trails of light that flickered and faded. Eyes, glowing and watchful, peered from the dark recesses.
Far within the forest's embrace, a zone of eerie quiet reigned, an unnatural pocket where the bustling life and vibrant sounds of Fang Root were strangely absent. Wildlife steered clear, an instinctive avoidance of something alien to their home. The cause of this silence was an impromptu camp, an intrusion of civilization in the wild's domain.
A single large cart stood central in the camp, drawn by scaled horses. Their tails, serpentine and precise in movement, complemented the frilled splendor of their manes.
Tents dotted the area, most of which were worn and nondescript, blending into the background of the forest floor. However, among the modest dwellings, two tents commanded attention. One was notably large, draped in fabrics that shimmered even in the muted light of the forest, its opulence a stark marker of importance. The other was unique for its architecture, tall and slender, rising like a spire or beacon.
Guards encircled the camp, consisting of knights and a mage. The elemental gauntlets shimmering over the knights' arms marked their rank as tier 2 bronze knights. Nearby, a youthful fire mage, with an aura flickering faintly, barely extending beyond his form, revealed his status as a tier 2 apprentice.
The spire-shaped tent's entrance suddenly swung wide, revealing a bald man robed in red. His figure was portly, with a broad, flat nose and small, deep-set eyes that gave his face a distinctly stout, almost swinish appearance. Encircling him, a fiery aura pulsed, its size and density unmistakable identifiers of an inceptor mage. He surveyed the camp with visible disdain, spat contemptuously on the ground, and marched towards the opulent tent. With a deliberate thrust, he cast the flap wide, entering with an air of authority.
"Ramman! The tower has sent a request," bellowed the mage, his voice slicing through the camp's stillness. "Enough with that vile creature! And for the my sake, cover yourself this time." Recoiling, he pinched his nose, eyes narrowing. "What in the realms is that stench?"
Behind a silk partition at the tent's rear, a shadowy figure hunched over an unseen object, its form grotesque in the dim light. Two legs, unnaturally extended from its shoulders, arched into the air. The eerie silence was broken only by a starved slurping, abruptly stopping as the figure straightened.
The form, addressed as Ramman by the mage, swept an arm across its face. A voice, oddly delicate for its grotesque shadow, responded, "That is the smell of love, you mages wouldn't understand the concept." Rising to its full height, Ramman's silhouette was slender yet awkwardly proportioned in a manner unbecoming of a man. It extended a hand, grasping a garment to drape over its body.
"Disgusting," the mage muttered under his breath.
Then, a sudden burst of green and white light shattered the dimness behind the silk partition. Emerging was a figure marked by a long, narrow face, topped with greasy curls piled atop his head. His pale brown skin contrasted sharply against the garish yellow of his silk robe. Covering him were spectral gauntlets and vambraces, carrying with them the weight of hot, stifling wind mana—a Tier 3 Iron Knight.
"Watch it, Hoggle," came the retort, laced with a feminine yet menacing undertone, "you just interrupted my meal." His eyes, ignited by a sinister green gleam, fixed on the mage. "State your business and leave," he continued, his hand leisurely cleaning his mouth with a rag, "I haven't finished eating."
Casting a wary eye beyond Ramman, Hoggle could only offer a shake of his head. "Your...preferences in these lesser beings escape me," he remarked, his aura flaring a touch brighter as he dared to lower his hand from his nose. "The tower master has set our sights on Atlas Crab next."
"Atlas Crab?! So, we're now errand runners?" Ramman reclined on a nearby couch, draping himself languidly as he spoke, "And just how much longer are we to linger in this wilderness? The humidity here wreaks havoc on my complexion."
"It's among his favored delicacies. Personally, I find it delightful with honey and a dash of spicy sauce. We might as well secure a few more for our return journey."
"Return?" Ramman bolted upright, his gaze sharpening.
"Once we've secured the crab, we make for the tower," Hoggle revealed with a smirk. "And with that, I'll be spared your incessant rambling on love," he added. Casting a disdainful look towards the back of the tent, Hoggle exited with a scoff.
The moment Hoggle departed, Ramman's features twisted into a grotesque grin. "Fucking hypocrite. Someday, I'll eat that juicy pig, until then...."
Behind the veil, a nest of pillows, ripped and stained, sprawled across the floor. The chamber bore the marks of violence, drenched in shadows and dried blood. There, amidst the chaos, lay a male elf, bare and broken. Dirt clung to his green locks; his eyes, once vibrant, now stared empty into the void, each breath a struggle.
Back outside the tent, Hoggle navigated through the camp to the laden cart, its load a collection of boxes, sacks, and cages. His attention snagged on a significant enclosure, within it a being of night-black fur, its bushy tail adorned with white stars converging towards its end, and blue flames flickering at its feet.
There, amidst captivity, lay an ember fox, his gaze flitting nervously. Once splendid fur now matted with grime, a dark stain of dried blood marred his side.
'Darius, help.'