There is a common misconception that techniques are less powerful or weaker than skills, and perhaps in some way that is true, but what many fail to realize is that techniques are not meant to destroy enemies or to blow up armies. No, techniques are a subtle, yet dangerous, aspect of advancement that, if utilized appropriately, can rival even the greatest of skills.
Scholar José Narosky
Calodan kingdom, year 2273.
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While the academy slept and the golden clouds of sunset roiled lazily above, Aodhán sat in his training room, wide awake. His legs were crossed in a meditative position as he exercised his control and tamed his willpower just to calm his nerves. He would be traveling to the Council’s headquarters in a few hours, and he was literally a sneeze away from a full-blown panic. Apparently, there was only so much {Eye of the storm} could do when faced with a situation like this.
Needless to say, Aodhán hadn’t planned for any of this to happen and would gladly turn back time if he could. He had simply wanted to test out the infusion effect of the skill, and in his excitement, he had simply done so, not really giving much thought to the consequences of his actions as per usual.
Aodhán was no stranger to the laws against using awakened abilities against sleepers and common citizens, but the problem here was that he hadn’t known what effect the infusion of {Eye of The Storm} into {Storm manipulation} would have. He hadn’t anticipated such a wild and drastic effect. However, despite how amazing the results were, Aodhán could barely muster any excitement for it.
Sighing, he returned his attention to his mental task, taming and imbuing willpower with energy. The process was practically instinctual at this point, and it wasn’t long before his mind drifted back to his imminent meeting with the Awakened Council.
The last twelve hours had been a roller coaster of emotions, and right now, the predominant emotion Aodhán was feeling was fear. Never in his life had he ever been to court or even worse, jail, except that time principal Zatya had thrown him and Cyrus in the sink, but with the way things were going, Aodhán suspected it was going to end badly.
A meeting with the Awakened Council would inevitably lead to an interrogation, and Rahim had briefed him on the Council’s definition of the word ‘interrogation.’ It was more appropriate to call it a total invasion of one’s mental privacy, and Aodhán couldn’t help but worry that his days of freedom were nearing a brutal end.
His mind flitted from one troubling scenario to the other, nearly all of them ending with his neck on a noose, but while Aodhán battled with his mind and emotions, Principal Zatya had ransacked the topmost floor of the library for a forbidden technique, and the moment midnight struck, a hooded figure scurried out of the library, moving towards the residential area of the first-years with a speed that was impossible to follow for anyone below the evolved class.
The figure was dressed in a black coat that shimmered subtly with cloaking and obfuscation runes, both of which made the figure's movements even harder to track. The figure skipped across small puddles of water left over from Aodhán’s rain earlier and cursed herself for ever thinking that working for the Bloody Season was a good idea at all.
This hooded figure was none other than Aurelis Swifteye, the eagle-eyed librarian of the 5th academy, and as she dodged another puddle of rainwater, she cursed Principal Zatya for assigning such a dangerous and illicit task to her of all people. Why couldn’t she have sent Kaelith? Or better still, one of her professors? Why in Raol’s name had the principal decided to drag her into this mess?
Aurelis soon reached the first-year residential quadrant. She slipped through the gate, waving dismissively at the guard, who only jerked awake after she released a slight pulse of energy to wake him up. Not bothering to present her ID or even introduce herself, Aurelis tightened her cloak and practically flew towards house 14.
When she reached house 14, she snuck in quietly (not that the students would even notice her presence had they been wide awake) and hastily made her way up the stairs to Aodhán’s room. The subtle movement of air currents deep within the room revealed to her that Aodhán was still awake, just as she’d expected, and without wasting precious time, she disabled the lock, slipped into the room, and bolted the door firmly behind her. Muttering another curse, she made her way to the training room and immediately dodged as a spear of crackling red electricity shot through the area she had been a second ago.
The boy formed another with impressive speed, but at the level of perception she was currently working with, Aodhán could have been a snail for how slow he seemed. Scowling, Aurelis smacked the next attack from the air and snapped. “Sit down, boy. I’m here to help you, albeit against my will. Let that be clear. I am only here because the principal asked me to.”
Aodhán’s expression lit up with hope, and he asked. “How can you help me?”
Aurelis waved a finger angrily at him and scowled. “You know, ever since I saw you reading Az’marthon’s biography, I just knew you would be trouble. Are you trying to follow in his footsteps? Because if you are, I’ll have you know that the law has changed drastically in the last 500 years, and we will not have another slaughterer running rampant and fucking things up for everyone.”
She folded her arms at him and continued angrily. “Do you fancy yourself his student because you have the same affinity? I should have known.” She shook her head in resignation, gray hair peeking out slightly from her hood. “It’s the bloody cult all over again. Kids these days. No one wants to be Von-Amyl Argent or the Peacemaker, but they’ll jump at the slightest chance to be the slaughterer and follow his bloody path.”
“I am not trying to follow in his path.” Aodhán replied with a scowl, more to himself than to the librarian. “I’m trying to avoid it.”
“Well, you’re doing a bloody terrible job.”
Aodhán sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration. “It was a mistake. I didn’t expect any of this to happen.”
“Of course you didn’t.” She scoffed, but her expression soon turned serious, and she raised a finger in warning. “That’s what you should say to the council tomorrow. Do not plead guilty, ever, even if you are guilty.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Guilty of what?” Aodhán asked in confusion. “I’m not guilty of anything!”
“Good, you’re following.” Aurelis replied and shut the door of the training room behind her before shifting her cloak to reveal a small, worn-looking scroll that shimmered faintly with golden runes. She cradled the scroll gently, hesitant to hand it over, but after taking a deep breath, she took out the worn scroll and scowled. “I don’t know what you and the principal are hiding, and I don’t care to know, so you guys don’t rope me any further into this mess. This is a permanent technique called the veil of shrouded mind. It works almost exactly as an oath, one that involves the willful binding of one’s core to protect one's secrets.”
Her scowl deepened, and she continued. “This technique won’t fortify or shield your mind from mental intrusions. However, it will create a veil within your mind where you can keep all your dirty little secrets without fear of them ever being found out.”
Aodhán gently collected the technique, eyes wide as he traced the complex runic script with a trembling finger. It was vastly different from the common techniques he knew, which could simply be passed from one person to another by simply sharing the functions and technicalities behind the technique. This one was a lot more complex than that, and from what he could see, Aodhán suspected it was a sacred technique or perhaps even a forbidden one.
Aodhán traced the glowing runes on the script, mesmerized by their complexity. They pulsed faintly, yet hummed with so much power that holding the script felt like holding back a dam with nothing but a glass panel.
Aodhán hesitated, knowing the value of what he was being offered, and weighing this option against the others he had come up with in the last few hours. After a moment, he looked up and asked. “What is the cost of using this technique?”
Forbidden techniques usually came with a cost or a drawback that usually impacted the user significantly, affecting either their advancement or their physical state, and Aurelis’s response confirmed Aodhán’s suspicions as to the nature of the technique.
“The activation of this technique will drain an immense amount of your willpower, but it’ll also take something far more precious—the emotions attached to whatever memory or thought you hide behind the veil. The veil won’t prevent you from accessing your secrets or even thinking about them, but that is the limit of which it would allow. You will never truly connect with those memories anymore. You will never think fondly of them, nor will you ever fear them.”
Aodhán shuddered, studying the script and weighing his options delicately as fear curled tightly in his gut. He had two options: a complete emotional detachment from his memories and secrets or to be dissected and torn apart by the council when they eventually found out his identity as a transmigrant?.
The decision should have been an easy one, but Aodhán hesitated as memories of his time in the monastery rose within his mind. The constant prayers and sermons the monks had forced him to take part in, the other boys who had later become his family, his real parents, and the brutal way in which they had died, the simplicity of life back on Earth…
The memories rose within his mind like a slide show, each one coming with its own bundle of emotions: pain, joy, indifference, anger, but most of all nostalgia. Using this technique would rid him of all these beautiful emotions. His memories of Earth would become nothing more than a footnote or a statistic in his mind.
Aodhán didn’t want that, but faced with the threat of death, did he really have a choice? Still hesitating, Aodhán asked. “Is that all the drawbacks? Is there anything more that I should know?”
“No.” Aurelis replied, her expression a little somber. “The Veil is one of the less demonic forbidden techniques out there.”
“Okay,” Aodhán nodded. “So just how many memories can I fit into this veil?”
“As many as you want. There’s just one catch, though, and that is the fact that the veil technique will only protect the secrets you place within it during the activation. Like I said earlier, it is permanent and can only be used once. Whatever memory you fail to place within the veil at the moment of activation can no longer be added into it. If that happens, you will need to create another veil within your mind, and that… let’s just say it’s not advisable.”
Glad that he had asked, Aodhán began making a list of memories he wanted to lock away forever. Everything about Earth had to go, obviously, as well as his conversations with Daruk and Principal Zatya about Earth and its inhabitants. His visions of Az’marthon had to go too, as well as every conversation about his tattoo.
The list of things that needed to be locked up grew with each passing second, and by the time Aodhán finally became satisfied that he wasn’t forgetting anything else, nearly an hour had passed. He scanned the list one last time before taking a deep breath. “I think I’m ready, but before I do it, I just have one more question. If a telepath scans my mind, will they find the veil, or is it hidden from their senses too.”?
“Both.” Aurelis replied with a shrug. “They’ll certainly find the veil if they search hard enough, but the veil naturally tries to hide itself. It doesn’t matter if they find it, though, because the only way they can get to its secrets is by killing you, shattering your core, and then harnessing what remnant of your mind lingers.”
The fact that his secrets would be safe forever gave him a bit of comfort, and ten minutes later, Aodhán felt ready to take the next step. With slightly trembling fingers he held out the scroll, took a deep breath, and without further hesitation, he recited the words of the technique.
“By shadowed veil, my mind I bind,
In silent depths, no truth you’ll find.
No will shall breach, no force break through,
My thoughts are mine, hidden from view.”
The words echoed like thunder in his mind, and as he read out the activation words of the technique, they took on a life of their own. They dove into his mind, creating a vacuum of space surrounded by a shimmering red veil made from runes. The veil constructed itself slowly, draining an immense amount of willpower with each runic block it added to the growing vacuum within his mind.
The drain caused Aodhán’s body to spasm uncontrollably, and he groaned as willpower drained from him like water through a sieve. Aodhán pushed every single memory in the list he had made inside the veil, not wanting to make the mistake of leaving anything behind; however, when he got to the memory of the Raventhorn, Aodhán hesitated.
As painful as the memory was, it was a vital part of his identity. The memory had practically shaped his life here on ÆFLYM, and throwing it behind the veil seemed like throwing another major part of his identity away forever. It was too much all at once, and after pushing all his memories of Earth away, never to be remembered fondly again, Aodhán was unwilling to let this one go even though it was filled with blood and pain. He spent more than a few seconds deliberating, but in the end, he decided to keep the memory. The veil disappeared from his mind's eye an instant later, sealing a major part of his identity away forever.
Aodhán would have loved to say he was relieved, but that was sadly not the case. He harnessed his memories of Master Gyatso and all the other boys, waiting for the familiar burst of nostalgia that usually accompanied those thoughts, but nothing came.
It was like watching a movie without color or sound, and Aodhán sighed heavily, knowing he had done this to himself. He began searching through his mind, but before he could come up with a decent analysis, Aurelis snatched the scroll from his hand and scrutinized it for a moment before placing it back into a corner of her robe.
After securing the scroll, she turned to him and scowled. “I was never here, and I never gave you this forbidden scroll. After I step out of this room, do not even think of me, and just in case the Council finds this memory, let me just reiterate that I have no part in this, nor do I have any idea what you’re hiding. I don’t get paid enough for this, and I would much rather be left to my books than dragged to court as a witness.”
She tightened her cloak around herself, raised up her hood, and, faster than Aodhán could follow, Aurelis slipped out of the room and disappeared, leaving Aodhán to worry about the repercussions of the decision he had made.
SYSTEM ALERT: MENTAL FORTIFICATION DETECTED!
MENTAL FORTIFICATION FULL!