“Congratulations, you’ve awakened,” Mokkal said, his voice carrying a weight of significance that hung in the air.

How long did it take? The last thing I remembered was the sun shining brightly outside, casting warm rays through the window. Now, darkness enveloped the world beyond, and a sense of disorientation washed over me. I blinked, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness that clung to my mind like a heavy fog.

I don’t feel all that different from awakening. Mostly, I feel tired.

“Has anything about me changed? I don’t feel any different,” I asked, my voice hoarse and uncertain.

“For now, you’ve formed something akin to a nervous system,” he replied, his tone steady. “Just that it allows spirituality to travel within your body. You have not yet received an aspect.”

“And when will that happen?” I pressed, a mix of anticipation and anxiety bubbling within me.

“A few days, give or take,” he answered, his brow furrowing slightly. “But I’m worried your situation might be different. Who knows how long it might take? Might be years, might be minutes.”

The uncertainty gnawed at me. Yes, that is annoying, but it can't be helped.

After a few moments of silence, I glanced around the small apartment, taking in the dim light and the cluttered shelves filled with books and strange artifacts. “How long did this take anyway?” I asked, trying to break the tension.

“It’s been a little over twelve hours,” he replied.

Twelve WHOLE HOURS! That’s my entire day!

What do I even do now? Just go to sleep? Well, I think not. What can I even do at this late hour?

As these thoughts swirled in my mind, I looked around again and noticed Mokkal moving about the small kitchen area. He returned with a plate of food, steam rising from it like an inviting embrace.

“You should be hungry, right?” he said with a hint of warmth in his voice.

“Yes, I very much am.” Without hesitation, I took the plate from him and began eating eagerly. The food was simple but satisfying—a hearty stew filled with tender vegetables and rich broth that warmed me from the inside out.

“It just came to me,” Mokkal said suddenly, breaking my focus on the meal. “But didn’t you say that all rituals are unique?”

“Yes, I did. Why?”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“So how come you know my awakening ritual?”

“You don’t need a ritual for the fifth rank; just stimulating your spirituality is enough,” he explained with a slight smile. “Fourth rank, on the other hand, requires a unique ritual.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I paused for a moment before asking, “Anyway, do you know what my ritual for the fourth rank is?”

“No,” he replied simply. “You’ll find that out after developing your fifth rank abilities.”

After talking for a little while longer about mundane topics—how he had come to live in this modest apartment and how he spent his days—I bade farewell to Mr. Mokkal. But just as I turned to leave, he stopped me.

“My name is not actually Mokkal,” he said quietly.

His name is not actually Mokkal? Why would he fake his name? Confusion washed over me as I turned back to face him.

Mr. Mokkal—no, not Mokkal—saw my puzzlement and continued gently, “My real name is Alodia Acheim.”

Alodia Acheim? The name felt foreign yet somehow significant.

“Then I bid you goodbye, Mr. Acheim.”

He thanked me with a warm expression that seemed to light up his face. Somehow, I got the feeling that this meant a lot to him—perhaps it had been ages since someone had called him by his real name.

This realization made me happy; it felt like I had connected with him on a deeper level.

---

After returning to my home later that night—my apartment located over an hour away from Mr. Acheim's—I immediately went to bed. The journey had left me exhausted yet contemplative.

While lying in bed, sleep eluded me as my thoughts raced wildly through my mind. The happiness I felt from finally discovering the cause of my dreams clashed with the dread surrounding my possible future. It was strange; I couldn’t exactly say I was entirely pessimistic about what lay ahead. Instead, there was an odd sense of relief at having uncovered the truth about myself—even if it was daunting.

To know the truth about myself—no matter how terrible—was better than remaining oblivious to it all.

As my mind began to settle and come to peace with what I'd learned today—the weight of knowledge slowly easing—I felt a calmness wash over me like a gentle tide. Gradually, my thoughts quieted down enough for sleep to finally embrace me.