Secrets are like shadows lurking in the corners of our souls. They have weight, and they weigh down our souls, burden our minds, and shackle our spirits. Only when set free can one truly soar.
Hilda Alderman.
The Warren, Sector 12.
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The oath ceremony lasted for almost an hour after the principal began speaking, but when she finally finished, the hall was silent as the students stared in confusion and disbelief. Aodhán didn’t blame them; the topic of the limit was a lot to take in, especially when one realized they couldn’t pass such vital information on to anyone, not even their family.
What surprised and confused him was the fact that the principal had failed to mention the curse or even the Attilan continent, and the look she’d sent him mid-speech was enough to shut him up for a lifetime.
Why then did she tell me? He asked himself, but he already knew the answer. She had told him about those things because of the plans she had in store for him. Daruk was silent beside him, and Aodhán could almost hear the gears in his mind whirring as he put two and two together.
Yet he remained silent, even after the principal dismissed them, but the moment they stepped into the hallway, Aodhán dragged him aside, unable to stand the silence anymore. Andrew shot them a sympathetic smile before joining a group of sober-looking nobles and making his way down the hall.
Aodhán turned back to Daruk. “What are you thinking?
“There’s nothing to think.” Daruk replied, his tone cold and laced with an unfeeling edge that grated on Aodhán’s nerves. He shook his head and sighed.
“Daruk, I know that a part of you might hate me for not telling you, but I hope you remember that I was under an oath.
“How?” Daruk asked, his voice laced with anger. “I know that this entire ceremony was a sham to lure us commoners into taking the oath. I mean, the nobles tried to pretend, but they already knew the truth, even Andrew, which meant they’d already taken the oath, and that was why they were so fearless and eager to come out. But I also know you can’t take an oath twice, which exposes this whole thing for the trickery that it is. If you say you were under oath before this, I want to know how.
Aodhán closed his eyes and sighed. “There are a lot of things about me that you don’t know, but now that you’ve taken the oath, I can finally tell you these things, and trust me, I want to.” He turned his gaze to the now-empty hallway and spoke. “Let's go to my room. I promise to tell you everything.
Daruk observed him for a moment before the cold mask fell away, and he gestured for Aodhán to lead the way. When they reached his room, Aodhán began narrating everything that the oath had prevented him from telling Daruk, starting from how he’d figured it out and told the awakened council of the curse of the Attilan empire.
As heavy as all the secrets weighed on him, he spilled them all in less than five minutes, and by the time he was done, Daruk was staring at him with eyes wide with incredulity and confusion.
“Let me get this straight; Dad knows?” Daruk asked, and Aodhán nodded. “Yes, although he only found out after I told the council.”
Daruk frowned. “The day you all returned from the expedition.
Aodhán nodded once again, and Daruk fell silent. Aodhán let him be, trying to give him time to process the information, but only a second later, Daruk asked
“And this deal with the Attilan continent...” he sputtered, unable to complete his question, and instead asked. “Explain the whole deal with the principal and the Attilan empire to me again; I don't understand any of it.
Aodhán repeated himself, and when he finished, Daruk shook his head, still surprised. “There are mentions of the Attilan continent in various books, but it’s not as mentioned as Gorgon or even Atlas.” His frown deepened, and he shook his head again. “I can’t believe this; how is it possible that I know more about Gorgon and Atlas—continents much farther away—than Attilan, the closest continent to Lutia?”
“Like I said, they’re keeping the information hidden for reasons principal Zatya won’t tell me. I believe only a select few, even among the nobles, might know of this.”
Daruk nodded in agreement, but his eyes suddenly narrowed, and he asked. “How do you know all these, though? If it’s such a well-kept secret, why would the principal tell you, and why won’t she stop you from telling me?
Aodhán sighed. He had refrained from speaking about his identity as a transmigrant, not because he didn’t trust Daruk, but because it was such delicate information that he couldn’t afford to just say it. He wanted to wait for the right time and the right way to reveal his identity so that it wouldn’t cause a rift between them, but how could he possibly answer this question without revealing the truth?
Daruk seemed to sense his internal struggles, and he raised a finger in warning. “You promised to tell me everything.”
Aodhán combed his finger through his hair as he tried to figure out the best way to even begin, but eventually decided to just tell the truth. It still took him a minute to find the right words, though.
“The principal told me because I realized the true nature of the limit on my own.
“Yes.” Daruk waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve mentioned that, but I’m curious as to why that warrants you getting more information than the rest of us. What’s so special about figuring it out on your own?”
Aodhán swallowed nervously, hesitant to take the next step, but if there was anyone who should know his true identity, it was Daruk, the one person whom he’d spent the most time with in this world and the one he trusted the most. Still, it was just so hard to say it.
He stood up from the couch and started pacing, restless as he warred with his own instincts. Not telling Daruk now was potentially dangerous, especially now that the principal knew. He needed someone in his corner. In case things went south and Daruk was still the only person he could trust,.
After a few seconds of pacing and restless contemplation, Daruk sighed, shook his head, and leaned back into the couch with folded arms. Aodhán took in Daruk’s testy expression and forced himself to sit down.
“Okay.” He sighed and turned to Daruk, who seemed to be forcibly holding himself back from tearing the words out of his mouth. “The thing is, I—”
He cleared his throat as he searched for a different opening, nervously twisting his fingers. Daruk, though, had finally had enough, and he growled. “I swear to Raol, if you do not tell me the truth, I will kill you myself.”
“I will, I will, I want to tell you, I just—he sighed and continued—just give me a few minutes to put my thoughts together.”
Daruk shook his head and took up a meditative pose. “Call my attention whenever you ‘put your thoughts together.’
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
It took Aodhán another two minutes before he finally felt ready enough to spill his deepest secret, and after letting out a heavy sigh, he said, “I’m not actually from Gishan village.”
Daruk cracked an eye open. “Father suspected as much; he told me your control and personality were too refined for someone from a backwater village like Gishan.
“Ah…right.” Aodhán muttered, wondering why Unrid hadn’t confronted him about it.
“So, where are you from?” Daruk asked curiously, and Aodhán chuckled, but he wasn’t amused in the least. He took a deep breath and replied. “I’m not from the continent of Lutia; I’m from—”
“Another continent!” Daruk exclaimed with wide eyes and immediately asked. “Attilan? Are you a fugitive? Is that what the mark means?”
“No, Daruk, no, I’m not from Attilan, nor am I a fugitive. I’m from a place much farther; we’re talking light years.”
He trailed off, but if Daruk's eyes were wide before, they bulged out of their sockets now, and a long, uncomfortable silence descended between them. Aodhán observed Daruk’s expression, watching as it shifted from confusion to disbelief before finally settling on bewilderment.
“I can't believe it,” Daruk finally replied, staring at him with new eyes, as if trying to spot something he hadn’t seen before. When he found no physical differences, he frowned. “But you look just like us.”
Aodhán chuckled in relief and replied. “I’m human just like you, and I’m from a world called Earth, although it is a world vastly different from this one.
Daruk wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Your world bears the name of that dastardly element?
Aodhán chuckled, still slightly nervous. “I didn’t name it.”
Daruk nodded slowly, fascinated, but under all that curiosity and fascination, Aodhán saw a flash of caution and weariness, but it disappeared the next moment as Daruk shook his head. “I still can’t believe it. How did this happen?
Aodhán paused once more as he prepared to reveal another secret he’d kept. “I lied when I told you I had a normal awakening.”
Before he even finished the statement, Daruk’s eyes widened once again, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words to express the betrayal he was currently feeling, and after a moment, he shook his head. “So many lies, so many secrets—how do you find it so easy?
“I do not.” Aodhán replied immediately, his expression urging and almost pleading for understanding. “I didn’t want to lie to you or anyone else, but I had no choice. Anyone would have done the same in my shoes.
Daruk glared at him; his anger and feeling of betrayal seemed to have subsided a little but hadn’t disappeared as he’d hoped. Aodhán couldn’t blame Daruk for feeling this way; in fact, he would probably feel the same way if their positions were reversed, but it still sucked to be on the receiving end.
“So all this time, while I compared myself to you, thinking you were just a normal genius, you were like me, with the will of an ascendant burning in your core.” Daruk shook his head and chuckled bitterly. “It's all so obvious now—the technique and the advice not to channel my untamed willpower—you weren’t just guessing or making accurate assumptions; you were speaking from experience.”
As light as Daruk’s voice sounded, his expression was pained and betrayed, and Aodhán sighed. “I understand how you feel, and I’m sorry; I truly am, but I’m telling you now because I trust you. I arrived in this world two months ago, with nothing save for the shirt on my back and abilities I had no control over. I knew no one and nothing about this world; I had to protect myself, keep my identity secret, and lie until I finally had people I could trust.”
Daruk closed his eyes and massaged his temples. “I know that; it’s just—it’s not so easy to accept all this; I’m still processing the fact that you’re from another world, but while we’re on the topic, how about you tell me the meaning of your tattoo?
Aodhán nodded. This was the last secret between them. “My tattoo is a picture of the Earth, and it identifies me as a transmigrant. It’s like a memento that serves as a reminder and a connection to my home world.”
Daruk gasped. “That means my patron was...”
“A transmigrant like myself.” Aodhán finished and leaned forward. “Do you realize what this means? You have the willpower of not one but two ascendants burning within your core. You’ll be great, Daruk; one day, you’ll be so powerful that you’ll rock this world to its foundations.”
Daruk simply stared, wide-eyed and mouth-agape, as he took in the new information and added it to the million other things he was still processing. The curse, the Attilan empire, the limit, Aodhán’s true identity, or the fact that he was an alien—none of those things shook him more than the knowledge that he had the willpower of two ascendants burning within him.
“I need—I think I need a moment to process all this information.” Daruk said, still in shock as he stumbled to his feet, but when Aodhán tried to help him, he denied his help and muttered. “I’ll be fine; I just need a few hours or days to come to terms with all this.
“It's alright; I’ll text you at night then.” Aodhán replied, but Daruk didn’t respond as he slowly walked out of the room and began making his way to his own house.
Aodhán sighed. He felt relieved now that he’d told Daruk the truth, but he was worried about the effect it would have on their friendship. Things didn’t look too bad, though, and he hoped that after a day or two, Daruk would come to terms with things and return to his usual self.
Control training had been cancelled for the day to give the students enough time to process the information they’d just received on the limit, but Aodhán had nothing to process, so he decided to spend the time in his training room.
It had been a while since he sat down to hone his control, and there was no better time than now to do so. He spent the next few hours training his control, and although, at the end of the long session, he only managed to increase his number of imbued strands by 1, bringing him to a total of nineteen strands, he still counted it as progress.
It was only an hour past noon when he stepped out of the training room, so he decided to use the free time to catch up on his numerous tasks. Before that, though, he released Varéc from his spirit and let out a hint of his aura, causing the familiar to growl in contentment and curl up on his bed to resume his nap.
He began with runic practice, trying to implement all the tricks and tips he’d learned from the library yesterday, and after an hour, he felt like he was making decent progress. He was about to draw Fehu—the first runic alphabet—the 76th time when a ding came in, and he checked his notifications to see that the leaderboards had been updated yet again and he’d been pushed down to the 7th position, which had pushed Eren out of the top ten list.
The familiar burn of competition returned, but as much as he wanted to challenge the tower and bring his name back to the top of the list, he had other problems to deal with.
Still, he was going to do it, as he didn’t intend to drop below the top ten. After scrutinizing the list for a moment, he returned to his scripting. It was Friday, so the weekend began today, but the forge matches would begin tomorrow.
He had to challenge someone to ascend the forge list, so before he forgot, he opened up his status screen and began scrolling through the forge list until he found his name occupying the 36th slot.
Rahim had said they couldn’t challenge anyone more than 5 levels above them, so he settled for Halima Sahiri, an air awakened at the 31st level. Immediately after he selected her name, both their names turned red, indicating that they could no longer be challenged until next week.
Now that he’d gotten that out of the way, Aodhán once again returned to his scripting practice, drawing each line with as much precision as he could manage, and by the time the sun set, his scripts could no longer be mistaken for the scribbles of a two-year-old.
He dropped his pen after the 207th scripting of Fehu and wiggled his fingers to enable blood flow. He had made astounding progress, and at this rate, he should be able to correctly draw the rune before the start of next week, which was only, well, a day away.
He gathered his notes and was just about to place them in his storage space when a notification ping came in, and he opened it to find a message from Rahim.
Your family has arrived in the 5th sector and is now settled in Norbuik, a city only a few miles from the academy. I’ve sent an attachment containing their address so you can exchange letters.
Aodhán sighed in relief, only now realizing just how worried he’d been about their safety. He quickly thanked Rahim and forwarded the message to Daruk, wanting to share the good news with him.
Sadly, he received no response from Daruk, which slightly dampened his excitement, and with no one else to share the news with, Aodhán plopped down on his bed and rested his head on Varec’s sleeping form until the clock struck 8.
Immediately the alarm sounded, Varéc jerked awake, and every sign of sleepiness or drowsiness disappeared from his expression. He growled, mentally urging Aodhán to get up and soar. Aodhán resisted at first, not really in the mood, but as Varec’s emotions bled into his own, he soon found himself grinning and shouting. “Okay, okay, give me five minutes.”
This time, when Varéc rushed back into his spirit, he had enough presence of mind to put on a shirt, and after adjusting the storm scarf around his neck, he jumped out of the window.
Varéc emerged from his spirit barely a second later, and they shot towards the sky once more. Aodhán laughed as every iota of sadness within him melted away and was replaced by an overwhelming feeling of exhilaration.
Rather than soar among the golden clouds of dusk this time, Aodhán urged Varéc forward, and they tore through the clouds until they reached the shimmering veil of the Nexus of sunsets.
If Aodhán had been in his right senses, he would have hesitated, but he wasn't, and he didn't hesitate. Varéc shot through the veil the next moment, and the night sky presented itself, boundless and beautiful.
Stars littered the sky like grains of sand, and at their current height, it was even more beautiful. Dark, brooding clouds surrounded them, and Varéc roared in excitement as he dove through them, leaving only a vague outline of their shape behind. Unwilling to let go of this feeling, both bond and familiar soared through the real sky until the telltale shimmer of dawn appeared.
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