A day passed in restless wait.
Helvan’s warning had been difficult to heed, but Aiden stayed away from fiddling with the ball of crimson fire that burned within himself. But it should be alright now. Though he tried to convince himself, it was hard to justify experimentation without even a sliver of knowledge of what to do.
With a sigh, he picked up the same book Finn read before. Leather-bound, title scripted in golden letters, paper thin and silky—its appearance alone displayed a luxury only Sovrans bolstered. The Six Paths was written in its spine.
Aiden found a chapter that explained the affinity test after briefly flipping through the pages. The book went out of its way to mix a complicated jumble of unknown words, but slowly and surely, Aiden started to understand the perspective of its author.
Affinity does not equal strength, he read the words in his mind. It made sense. Myra had lesser affinity to the Blood Path, but she was far from weak. It, however, determines the potential for an Empyrean to ascend the ranks. That caught his attention, making him skim through overly drawn-out explanations to find the information he needed.
Empyreans were ranked into four different tiers of strength and capability. The lowest was Reverence, which included both him and Myra, from what he understood, followed by Eminence, Ascendence, and Transcendence. But that was not all—each rank was further divided into three quantifiers of progress: Lesser, Median, and Greater.
It’s more complicated than I thought.
Aiden lost track of time in the gratification of finding at least some answers he needed. It felt as if some of the weight on his shoulders lessened the more he understood about how to get stronger—how to become a Greater Reverence.
It was simple, the tome said. One simply needed to widen their astra from the inside out, leveraging imbued hexion to create an outward pressure against its boundaries. Simple, it said, yet Aiden had no idea what that meant.
White hair glistened in the corner of his vision, making him turn his attention away from the book to meet Helvan’s wrinkled frown. He walked with steady steps, unfitting for his age; everything about him felt wrong. He displayed prime strength, but appeared to be someone ready for their burial.
Time Path. Aiden understood the source of the man’s power now. Helvan was an Empyrean capable of reducing the influence of the flow of time on himself, which allowed him to appear and disappear out of nowhere. It was a neat, deadly trick only granted to those who opened the obsidian door.
What did he see on the other side? Aiden couldn’t help but wonder if the words behind the doors were all the same or if each guarded a distinct place.
“Did you find some of the answers you sought?” Helvan motioned to the closed book on Aiden’s lap.
“Helvan.” Aiden rose to his feet. “Some, yeah. Still not sure how to imbue hexion or how to expand my astra from within.”
“Imbuement will be taught to you later, but you’re not to try to ascend a Reverence’s rank before Heightening. Even I don’t know what kind of side effects expanding a small, unheightened astra can create.” Helvan glanced over his shoulder at nothing. “It’s better not to risk it.”
“Gramps!” The door opened behind him.
Finn entered the room, his forehead drenched in sweat. “Are you avoiding me or something?”
“As impatient as ever,” Helvan shook his head. “I told you before, there’s nothing you can accomplish without an astra. Heightening will come in due time, in a place where we have the resources to fund it. That place is not here.”
“So what are you here for?” Finn harrumphed. “To throw us riddles and disappear?”
“Silence,” Helvan commanded, and the air became solid.
A malicious aura emanated from the white-haired elder, condensing and compressing the air until it was hard to breathe—impossible to even think straight. Helvan turned around, his obsidian eyes absorbing all light in the room, and the pressure increased.
Finn fell to his knees while Aiden was pressed against the bed.
“This is what you will face,” Helvan snapped. “Can you save your family when you can’t even stand under my presence? Where is the jovial mask you so obnoxiously wear, Finn? Will you prostrate at your father’s feet as you do at mine?”
Finn’s calm smile fell off his face at the mention of his father. A bestial snarl distorted his features with rage. Blood dripped down his chin as he bit his lips. “Shut… up.”
Frustration shaved away at Aiden’s patience, while hatred flowed inside him. He remembered Calandor, the man who struck his mother. The Sovran had projected the same tangible oppression he now felt. But Aiden endured it in silence. He had spent his entire life leashing that hatred. It was an old friend at this point. Aiden would use it to fuel his power, not let it become a fire that consumed his reason.
Aiden gritted his teeth, mustering the strength to stand. It felt like two giant hands pressed his back against the bed, and his vision had long since become hazy from the lack of breath. Yet his heart still beat.
A guttural howl exploded out of Finn’s lungs. He thrashed on the ground, punching the stone, gathering rage-filled strength to rise with a bent back. Blood traced crimson trails down his neck. His eyes were bloodshot, the picture of someone on the edge of violence.
It was not the first time the magic of a Sovran had reduced Aiden to a quivering mess. The district overseers had done it, and so had Estephannia, Calandor, and Myra. But he remembered fighting off their control, even if only for a moment. He immersed himself in the memory, in that brief victory against Sovran oppression.
The darkness that surrounded his astra quivered in response, on the verge of awakening from a deep slumber. With a roar, Aiden pushed against the bed and rose to his feet. The pressure was still there, but it was manageable somehow.
“Good,” Helvan said. “You two aren’t hopeless, after all.”
The pressure vanished with the elderly Sovran’s nod. Aiden crashed back onto the bed, all the stamina in his body gone as the illusory weight disappeared. Finn walked to his bed with trembling steps, though the rage refused to leave his features.
Now that he could think and breathe, Aiden said, “What was that? Every Empyrean can do that?”
Helvan pulled out a chair and sat down facing the two trainees.
“Every Empyrean worth their hexion can project their Presence out into the world. It’s not only a tool for oppressing the weak, but for limiting the abilities of the strong. Presence is the outward manifestation of astral power.”
“But that isn’t all,” he paused. “By unfolding my Presence, I can tell what rank you belong to, if your astra is unshielded.”
“Isn’t that bad? They’ll know that we are Empyreans,” Aiden asked.
Finn remained silent, his gaze distant.
Helvan picked up a book, flipped through its pages with uncanny familiarity, and said, “The Empyrean Principles: Soul Dive, Presence, and Shielding. I wish you had started with this one.”
Finn broke the silence with a scoff. “You guys aren’t good instructors, is what I’ll say.”
“I gave you the tools. All you had to do was read,” Helvan shook his head. “But time waits for no one. In three days, we will depart from this place and make our way to Elysium, where we will have both the resources and the security to train you better.”Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
“Before that, you will only need to grasp the basics of Shielding. It will do us no good if you are discovered as an Empyrean disguised as a servants. If the Orenn finds you, not even death will end your suffering, for they have an Evoker in their midst.”
Great. Someone who, according to the book, could enslave the soul of the deceased for all eternity.
Aiden needed no further encouragement to learn. Quite the opposite, the prospect of building the foundations of his strength was more than another step in the path to save Dan and his mother—it resonated deeply with the injustice and rage that squirmed inside every miner.
A way to fight back.
“Teach me,” Aiden said at the same moment Finn uttered, “I’m ready.”
Helvan rose from the chair, manifesting two mats out of thin air and arranging them side by side. “Sit,” he motioned. “Legs crossed, palms resting on your knees, eyes closed.”
“Show-off,” Finn grumbled.
Aiden did his best to copy the straight-back posture to the minute details, while Finn did the same. The elder examined them, rising to his feet and pacing around them.
“Aiden, you can relax. We aren’t about to fight to the death. This is just a visualization exercise. Malleable body, malleable mind.”
“Finn.” Helvan stopped in front of him. “Relinquish your hatred until you have the means to act on it. If you can’t control your emotions, you will never amount to anything other than a carcass that died with an ugly frown.”
The words must have stung, for a healthy blush colored Finn’s face. Still, he obeyed, and after a few minutes, his breathing was peaceful.
“We can begin.” Helvan sat in front of them. “First, I will teach you how to Soul Dive. If you can’t find the pathways to your soul, where your astra will eventually form, then forget about Shielding. You will never be able to perform the Three Tenets of hexion manipulation.”
“The soul is the root of our being, of our consciousness,” Helvan’s tone suddenly bordered on hesitation. “Of our emotions. Someone without a soul is nothing but a husk driven by duty, but they can still project hexion into Arts just the same.”
“I want you to think about a memory that instills strong emotions in you. The lasting ones, those which come to the forefront of our minds, are not usually pleasant. The tendrils of hate and anger are difficult to shake off.”
Aiden already knew how to find his soul.
It came naturally to him at the moment hexion condensed into his astra, the one that now rested in the center of his being—the rotating ball of crimson fire. He felt it as clearly as his crossed legs or how a bead of sweat rolled down his neck.
Finn could not claim the same. The same snarl of rage caused by the mention of his father returned. Even a fool could guess there was bad blood between them. The memory he was reliving must not have been a comfortable one.
Aiden’s mind trailed alongside those thoughts until he remembered his father—how his head had dropped lifelessly to the floor, and the grim look on Overseer Corvanis as he cleaned the blood from his blade.
“Find the source of your hatred, Finn.” Helvan’s words brought Aiden back from the pain. “Trace its origin, relive that memory, feel its pain. Follow it, track the events which caused so much hurt, for at the source of all, you will find… yourself.”
Helvan closed his eyes, heeding his advice, but a sad expression overtook his face. Aiden might have been mistaken, but it almost looked like the old man could not find his soul. He dismissed the thought by how absurd it sounded.
“Found it,” Finn rasped. “There is… nothing inside. It’s just darkness.”
“Of course, you don’t have an astra,” Helvan said matter-of-factly. “That darkness is what your untrained soul looks like. Did you find yours, Aiden?”
“Ah... Yeah, found it.”
“I believe the grandiose sight of a torch is still fresh in your minds. A transparent sphere forged of the unbreakable material known as Ekron, it resembles glass, yet it is more durable than Sha’Vitri steel.” Helvan took his time with each word.
Something about his wording bothered Aiden. A torch, not the Torch? The Sovran implied that the ever-present light source of his district was not unique in any regard.
“I want you to imagine the same material encompassing the entirety of your soul, guarding all the darkness within itself, protecting it. Impervious to attacks, unfazed by even the most powerful arts. A shield.” His voice shifted from wondrous to serious. “The Unbreakable Veil. The difference between life and death.”
“Got it!” Finn shouted with excitement. “Abyss take me, it’s there!”
“What?” Helvan was taken aback. “Take this matter seriously—”
“I’m taking it very seriously, you grumpy geezer—” Finn’s head slammed into the mat.
A frown replaced Helvan’s surprise as the surrounding pressure increased. Finn’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. Not even his finger twitched under the white-haired Sovran’s imposing presence.
“By the Fallen God, you’re speaking the truth.” Helvan folded his presence within himself. “It’s… flawless.”
Finn got up with a snarl. “A little trust wouldn’t hurt, you know? Maybe trace it back until you can find my finger shoved up your ass.”
Helvan silenced him with a look.
Aiden ignored their conversation, letting their voices grow muffled as he dove into the deep recesses of his soul. A sphere, not of fragile glass, but of the unbreakable material that made the Torch—or the torches. He needed something vast enough to encompass his soul, to endure the overbearing Presence of a hostile Empyrean.
Images of the Torch flashed under his eyelids. Unblemished. Pure. Everlasting. Impervious to the flow of the ages and the ravages of men. Out of nothingness, a facsimile of the Ekron sphere burst into existence around his soul, shining with the same luster as the Torch.
With a thought, Aiden appeared next to it—so close it took but the lift of a finger to touch its smooth surface. The sphere crumbled to pieces at his touch.
“Ah!” he screamed as the shards of his shield tore at the darkness.
“Cast the image away, Aiden!” Helvan arrived at his side in an instant, a firm hand pressed over his chest. “Will it to nothingness. Quick, boy, don’t let it damage your soul more than it already has!”
Disappear! Aiden shouted within his soul, and the shards of glass vanished. Not Ekron, glass. That’s what I imagined. He shivered at the mind-numbing pain, a torment with no beginning and no end, one that not even the Dyad Vessel could suppress.
“Damn it…” Aiden sagged against Helvan’s hand. “It’s harder than I thought.”
“Your conscious mind doesn’t agree with your unconscious idea of vulnerability,” Helvan sighed, returning to his sitting position. “Self-inflicted soul wounds heal, so there shouldn’t be any lasting effects on you. Just don’t let them accumulate.”
“Easier said than done,” Aiden grumbled, as the pain began to fade.
“That is often the truth, but I hoped a young mind would be more malleable,” Helvan winced a smile.
“You alright, man?” Finn nudged him with an elbow, his excitement gone.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Aiden looked at him up and down. “I guess you weren’t lying about being a genius.”
The short-haired man chuckled.
“Rest for a while, Aiden—practice the first step with caution. In the meantime, Finn, are you ready for what comes next?” Helvan turned his attention away from Aiden.
“Haven’t you heard, old man? They all call me a genius.” Finn flashed him a cheeky smile.
The Sovran ignored the remark. “Will the shield to absorb the color from the darkness. Let it be something that even the strongest rays of light are unable to pierce. If you succeed, the inside of your shield will become pristine white.”
Finn closed his eyes momentarily, bursting them open in less than a second. His white teeth shone proudly through his grin. “What’s next?”
Helvan looked devoid of words. “Well… you can go practice with Myra, I suppose.”
Aiden shut away the distractions, the noise, watching as his torn soul struggled to mend itself. There were cuts in the darkness, wounds with a deeper shade of black than the living ink.
“The technique is known as the Unbreakable Veil,” Helvan spoke. “At least it should be unbreakable, but it all depends on the limit of one’s visualization. Some people have a harder time reining in their imagination. But remember this, Aiden: inside your soul, you are the ruler.”
Helvan produced a piece of transparent material, sending it flying at Aiden with a flick of his hand. “Break that.”
The limits of his body were no longer a mystery to Aiden. He could break steel with his bare hands and crack stone with a half-hearted punch. A piece of glass should have provided him with no challenge, yet, as he mustered all his power to break it, the piece remained immutable.
“Ekron.” Aiden gave up on the fruitless attempt.
“Precisely.” Helvan nodded with a smile. “Priceless yet useless, for only the most powerful Transmuters can ever hope to shape it. The methods of its creation are a mystery. You can keep it. It might help you with visualizing your goal.”
It was a priceless remnant, but Aiden did not refuse the offer. Pride would get him nowhere; it did not build a shield around his soul, and neither did it possess the power to save his family. If accepting a gift from a Sovran helped him achieve his goal, Aiden would take it.
“I will return tomorrow. Some guests wait for me.” The white-haired elder stood up with little effort. “Make your shield in the image of the shard of Ekron that lies in your hand. Cast aside the incredulity that has shackled your will.”
“Tomorrow,” Helvan smiled. “Withstand my Presence without letting your shield break, and I will give you some answers about that Providence of yours.”
Sounds like a deal.
Aiden isolated himself from all distractions, diving deep into the dark recesses of his soul, and honed his will to visualize a sphere of protection around it. Not glass, but a material that not even the power of a Sovran body could break.
Ekron.
The shield formed around him, brought into existence by sheer force of will. Aiden appeared in front of it, and without hesitation, punched it. It shattered under his strength, a failure that produced nothing but pain.
The fragments disappeared before causing much damage to his soul, but Aiden did not flinch. He moved through the hurt—with it—and willed another shield to form. Even if it broke a thousand times, all he needed to do was rebuild it stronger each time.
No matter how many attempts it took. No matter the pain.