Stale air entered Aiden’s lungs as he returned to the room. To his world.
It had been a long time, but his body did not register the passage of time as his mind did. He looked up at the ceiling and realized how much he had lost in ‌a moment. With a sigh, Aiden sat on the bed and ignored the concerned looks of Helvan, Myra, and Finn.
“Six hours,” Helvan rasped. “You had some of us concerned.”
Finn chuckled. “I always knew you’d come back—”
“Weren’t you just saying he was a goner?” Myra shook her head at Finn’s embarrassed face. “It’s all well and good to have you back. Now spill it.”
“I was back in a few minutes. What can I say? They call me a genius for a reason.” Finn crossed his arms with a proud smile. “White door showed up out of nowhere. Felt like I walked in that damned place for hours, though.”
Myra whistled. “The Dream Path. Not bad! It’s the most unpredictable—you’re either really strong or super weak, truth be told. But, hey, don’t let that get to you. You’ll be fine. Probably.”
Finn’s expression soured.
Hours? Aiden couldn’t help but chuckle. It sounded like a blessing if he ever heard one. He was unsure how long he had braved those empty halls, but it had to be years. It sure as the abyss felt like it. The only thing standing between him and insanity had been the Sixfold Corridor’s mysterious nature.
“What’s so funny?” Finn turned away from Myra with a decided harrumph. “What did you get?”
“More questions than answers,” Aiden said absently.
Helvan remained silent, but his eyes never left Aiden. The aura that emanated from the old man brushed against him, harmlessly passing through his flesh. Just as the feeling caught Aiden’s attention, it disappeared without a trace.
A small smile tugged at Helvan’s lips. Myra caught the look. A violent breeze burst out from her, freezing Aiden within an instant.
“How?” Her mouth dropped open. “How do you have… an astra?”
Aiden had never seen her so shaken.
“A what? Are you also gonna speak in riddles?” Aiden snapped back.
“Also,” Helvan hummed to himself. “So he still lives. Which door chose you, Aiden?”
“Red.” Aiden wanted to ask about Asthagon, but the slight shake of the old man’s head stopped him. “What’s an astra?”
It sounds a whole lot like Astrais…
“Allow me to start from the beginning. There’s much you need to understand,” Helvan said.
“The human mind can’t fathom the workings of the Sixfold Corridor, but some of our wisest have come up with a simple analogy. Each person—each soul—is born with an affinity, a predisposition to adapt to the greater powers beyond this world. The six doors of the corridor.”
“It’s only possible to attune to one path, no matter how you try, no matter what you do.” His words faltered as the shadow of a memory passed through him. “With the exception of the man known as the Maker.”
“The Maker is real?” Finn blurted out, taken aback. “I thought he was just a dumb story made up by the Sovrans.”
“He is real.” The severity of the old man’s tone was off-putting. “Listen, you two, listen well. If you ever learn his name, you must never say it out loud.”
Aiden remembered the words said by Asthagon, Why wouldst a hunter shield its prey?. Helvan shared the same sentiment. For some reason—a mystery Aiden was not sure he should utter aloud—the Maker was not merciful, as the stories told.
“Why the abyss not?” Finn gave voice to Aiden’s doubt. “Is he shy or something?”
“Speak his name only if you’re tired of living. But don’t think death will be swift; he watches over the abyss, and that place is worse than people make it out to be.” Helvan nodded as he saw understanding dawn on the grim faces of the young men. “You asked what an astra was?”
Aiden nodded.
“It’s a reservoir of hexion within oneself, but you can think of it like a door that connects you to the realms stranded in the Sixfold Corridor. Open that door, let the hexion flood you, and you can wield the strength held only by the most prestigious of Sovrans—Empyrean magic.”
“So we can do the same thing you and Myra do?” Aiden asked. True power. The strength of an Empyrean. It was what he needed to get his life and family back. “How do we do it?”
“Not quite. Touching one of those doors makes one attuned, yet only those who are Heightened can bend hexion to their will and channel it to perform the Empyrean Arts,” Helvan hesitated.
“Well, that goes for Finn and the rest of normal people, at least.” Myra paced the room with a bone-shivering enthusiasm. “But what about Aiden? I’ve never heard of someone forming an astra without undergoing Heightening. Gramps, what’s going on here?”
“It’s rare but not unheard of.” Helvan turned his attention to Aiden. “But I don’t recommend you try anything yet. Your astra is too frail, even compared to the weakest Reverences out there—the lowest ranking an Empyrean can be. Straining it at this point will cause instabilities in your foundation.”
It doesn’t seem like that bad of a trade-off, Aiden thought.
“To put it in a way even an idiot can understand, you will never beat the weakest Empyrean if you ignore my warnings.” The old man held a severe frown, the weight of his words falling onto Aiden like bags of coal. “And those who hold your family are far from weak.”
“Alright. I won’t force myself or anything.” Aiden needed no more incentive than that.
“First he got that Gloom Touch and now this… Don’t you ever get tired of pulling shit out of your ass, man?” Finn threw his hands in the air in frustration.
“Why in the Haven are you even complaining?” Myra smacked him on the head. “You just attuned yourself to one of the most powerful of the Higher Paths. Well, maybe. So, please shut your mouth now.”
“Hey!” Finn protested, but the bitterness on his face melted away. “Higher Paths? I like the sound of that.”
It was Helvan who answered. “Time, Dream, and Chaos—those are regarded as the Higher Paths. Blood, Mind, and… Soul are called the Lower Paths. The names might give the impression that some are stronger than others, and for the most part, that is true. But never underestimate any Empyrean.”
“I have lost count of the times a Chroner—an Empyrean of the Time Path—died at the hands of a Psyker,” the old man sighed. “Legend has it the Maker himself was first attuned to a Lower Path.”
Helvan produced a glass cup from thin air. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Providence. It’s either that or he’s using some sort of magic. Another transparent flash appeared in his hand. Opening its lid, he poured a thick liquid that resembled water into the cup.
Myra accepted the cup. “This stuff is highly sensitive to hexion. It will detect what sort of paths you are attuned to, but not only that, it’s also gonna tell me how strong your affinity is.”
“If you’re not shielding your soul, that is,” Helvan added.
Myra dipped her finger into the thick, watery substance. Tendrils of color spread from her finger, painting the liquid a dark shade of pink that almost reached red. She stared at it for a long moment, disappointment clear on her face.
“I’m… well, my attunement to blood is not that great.” She bit her lip. “Coloring the primer red means my soul is attuned to the Blood Path. Black for time, white for dream, purple for chaos, green for soul, and golden for mind.
“Stronger affinities will cause much more pronounced reactions. Check this out.” She offered the cup to Helvan.
The old man shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Grumpy old man.” Myra promptly turned away from him. “Finn?”
The short-haired man stood up, reached for the cup, and dipped his finger into the primer. The pink color faded as the liquid returned to its transparent appearance, but it lasted only a split second. The color turned a hazy white, and before Finn could say anything, a rat jumped out from the cup, running up his arm with nimble grace.
“Shit!” Finn stumbled and fell onto the bed. “What the abyss! Where did the little shit come from?”
The little creature was nowhere to be seen.
“How’s this even possible?” Aiden took a step back. Did he create that rat? Just what can Empyrean magic do? “It came out from… the cup.”
“Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.” Helvan looked genuinely surprised. “Greater Affinity. It’s not often we see it with the Dream Path. To manifest a living being out of dreams is not something any Dreamer can do.”
Aiden knew Helvan rarely distributed praise. For him to say that, the talent displayed by Finn must be something worth a lot to the Sovrans.
Finn flushed, either at the compliment or his earlier embarrassing display.
“Excited already?” Myra extended the cup to Aiden. “Just a ceremony, really. I know you’re gonna be attuned to blood, probably with a higher affinity like Finn.”
Aiden dipped his finger into the cup, wanting nothing more than to get this over with. He needed to learn how to use this power as soon as possible, not waste time in useless Sovran rituals.
What’s the use of a test if we already know the result?
The primer flashed, then tendrils of blood burst from his finger like lightning. The liquid turned red instantly, and the glass exploded in Myra’s hand.
“By the abyss!” Myra gasped.
The once-clear liquid became as solid as a ruby, but somehow, it started to move—to wiggle. The head of a small snake peeked out from the ruby. It opened a tiny jaw, hissing at the red-haired Sovran before pouncing at her.
Red mist poured out of her skin, her eyes flashed red as Myra extended a finger to point at the creature mid-motion. A sphere of blood shot out from her index finger, obliterating the snake before it could touch her.
The sound of stone breaking echoed in the silence. Aiden turned his head to see a clean hole in the wall where Myra’s magic had struck. Helvan regarded the shards of glass with a raised eyebrow.
“The core of a Hemomorph seems to have elevated your affinity higher than I had anticipated.” A sinister smile split his lips. “The affinity of the last fragment molded by the innate potential of a Bloodbeast… things will get interesting.”
Last fragment? It was the same name Asthagon had called him. “What do you—” Aiden closed his mouth, sealing the unasked question, for Helvan had vanished from the room.
“Truth be told, I’ve never seen anything something like that. It’s… beyond Greater Affinity, probably caused by the core we put inside your heart.” Myra nodded to herself.
“You did what?!” Aiden put a hand over his chest. His heart beat once. Twice. Thrice. Was it always like that? He tried to reassure himself, but no heart ever beat three times like that. It was odd. Unnatural.
“Is something wrong?” Myra moved closer with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry about that too much.”
“No,” he stammered. “Everything is fine.”
The last thing Aiden wanted was to be on that metal table again. Darksight, weird heartbeats—just what in the abyss am I? He watched as Myra left the room but held no illusions about her ignorance. If Travor and Calandor had heard his heartbeat, then Myra was no different.
She knows more than she’s letting on.
***
Aiden lay on his bed, eyes closed in pretend sleep. He did not need his sight to see the texts projecting in his mind from the Az’Tenri Circlet, a remnant capable of replicating the miracles achievable by Empyreans.
Asthagon. The Beyond. The Blood Path.
There was nothing he could do about mysteries he did not understand. Helvan had recommended he postpone any experiments with his astra for now, but the black ring was different. Aiden was its sole master, and as far as he was concerned, there were no crippling side effects to using it.
The blue screen came to life with but a nudge of his will. The words appeared on the floating sheet of dreamy light. Some of them were unfamiliar to him, but not all. His reading lessons with Myra were yielding results, and the Az’Tenri Circlet itself conveyed the meaning of any words he failed to decipher.
Draven Von AstraisDyad Vessel: Corruption [Median]Blood Path: Reverence [Lesser]
Aiden suppressed a groan at the displayed name. Draven Von Astrais. It did not take a genius to know that had to be his birth name—his real name. Still, it felt foreign. Wrong. He much preferred Aiden.
Aiden knew how to activate Dyad Vessel as readily as commanding a limb. Even the partial release learned after rising from First Ring to Second Ring felt natural. It was the difference between a light jab and an all-out punch.
Aiden felt the Providence growing in size and power with each use, every time it drank more of his pain. The fuel for its progress was pain and retribution. No matter how much he yearned for a simple life, Aiden knew he would never grow stronger without conflict.
“Any luck with that astra thing?” Finn’s voice brought him back to reality.
He held the book provided by Helvan, flaunting his flawless ability to read. A bitter twist on his pursed lips, however, suggested he was not content with whatever answers he had found amidst the confusing symbols.
“I haven’t tried. What the old man said was… I don’t know. Might as well wait another day. It’s not like I want to cripple myself or something.” Aiden leaned back against the cold stone.
“Talk about a mood killer, that wrinkled geezer. I keep trying to feel it—the hexion—that’s what the book calls it. But there’s nothing inside of me. No astra.” Finn sighed, throwing the book aside. “But you have one. Can you feel it?”
“Yeah. It’s like a ball of fire in the center of… my soul, I guess?” Aiden dwelled on the feeling, tracing it back to its origin. It did not take much effort. “It’s like a limb—there all the time, but you only notice if you’re looking for it.”
Finn picked up the book again, an excited grin on his face. “The Three Tenets of hexion: Channel, Imbue, and Emit. The will of an Empyrean bends the hexion around one’s soul, weaving the patterns inscribed within the subconscious into Arts.”
Aiden did not know what that meant, and judging by Finn’s expression, neither did he.
“To channel hexion is a matter of instinct,” Finn read the passages with renewed vigor. “Merge your intent with the dormant will within your astra and beckon the hexion to claim its inner space.”
“Oh. Oh!” Aiden closed his eyes, clenching his jaw in concentration. “I feel it… the astra… the hexion.”
“Channel it, Aiden! Dammit, wait, let me see what’s next.” Finn’s excitement made him drop the book on the floor. “Shit! Where is it? Got it. Weave the hexion with your will, imbue it with commands born of consciousness… into Arts?”
Aiden jumped off the bed, eyes bursting open. He bent his knees, extending his arm forward. “It’s merging… I can’t control it!” He pointed his open palm at Finn.
“Wait!” Finn scrambled away in shock. “Point that away, man. Wait. Wait!”
“The… Art!” Aiden roared. “Haah!”
Finn jumped to the side, both arms cradling his head. The bed groaned from a stray kick, knocked aside effortlessly by the strength of a Sovran body. Uncontrollable laughter soon broke the silence that followed Aiden’s shout.
The short-haired young man tentatively opened an eye. “What?” He looked around the room but found no sign of anything arcane. “To the abyss with you, man. You’re more twisted than Myra,” Finn said as his face colored.
“That was a good one, though,” Aiden said, catching his breath. “You can’t blame me.”
“You’re a vicious guy, you know that?” Finn stood up, brushing off his pants. “Don’t blame me when revenge comes knocking.”
Aiden’s laughter sounded strange, foreign after so long without practice. How long had it been since he had genuinely laughed? Weeks, maybe longer. Finn picked up the book and silently read the pages, but the amused smile never left his face. He needed that just as much as Aiden did.
Perhaps more.
This place, this life, can try to break me. Aiden closed his eyes, delving deep within his soul. Do your worst! I’m not alone in this, and I’m not powerless anymore.