The Seven Eyes

Albus sat in silence, his mind whirling with thoughts, contemplating the reason of the recent nightmare.

He first of all discarded the possibility of it being a normal nightmare. From the scriptures he had read about dreams and the knowledge he had received from his studies in the academy and from his father, he was fairly certain that it wasn't a normal nightmare. Only an outside interference could result in something like this. So, he considered the other possibilities.

Either the rival houses have again tried to cause some trouble or some lone and old cultivator on his last breadth have chosen to gift me with his inheritance.

A greedy leer formed on his face at the thought of an inheritance. But, he shook his head. Inheritance dreams are supposed to be inviting and inspiring. Not threatening. Even threatening would be an understatement to what I saw. That was down right horror.

If a normal mortal would have been in his position, they would still be shaking in their blanket till now. But, being the son of a high ranking cultivator comes with it's own perks he guessed. Even though there were some perks he would rather not have.

He took a deep breadth. The only possibility that was left now was that a or many rival houses have decided to cause some trouble for him. Again. And really, he should have expected it. They never leave any chance to trouble each other after all.

He sighed. This was not something he wanted to deal with today. I will relay it to Sikandar. He will deal with it.

He looked at the wall clock. It was past 8'o clock in the morning, and he was expected at 9'o clock in academy.

Taking a towel from the dressing table, he entered the bathroom.

It took him about twenty minutes to get ready, of which ten minutes he wasted on his long hair.

Leaving his room, he started down the stairs. Their house was a big one. With three floors and three rooms on each floor, along with bathroom. The only thing the house lacked were people, since only three people lived here. His father, him and Sikandar; his fathers right hand man.

There was a fourth member once, but that was in the past. And he didn't liked to dwell in past.

He entered the kitchen. There, he found a man who looked like he was in his 30's sitting on the dining and sipping on a cup of tea blankly. He was copper skinned, with short disheveled black hair and a light bear around his chin and, a thick moustache. He looked sleep deprived, with big dark circles under his eyes.

It was Sikandar.

Albus took the seat opposite to him. "Another sleepless night?" he asked, picking up the bread omelet put on a plate.

"Uh," said Sikandar, taking a sip, loudly.

"Musth be hardth." The omelet wasn't cooked properly.

"Uh"

Albus picked up another bread omelet. "Dad gone already?"

Sikandar's hand went still for a moment, but only for a moment. "There was some work."

"What kind?"

"Private."

Albus eyes narrowed. It was always a big thing when they try to hide something from him. "Tell me."

"Not allowed."

"I am the heir of the house."

"Exactly because you are still the heir of the house."

Albus regarded Sikandar for a moment, then sighed. If he doesn't tell him at the first try, then he won't tell him at the hundredth try.

There was silence for a moment as they both ate peacefully.

"I had a strange dream." Albus said, breaking the silence. "A nightmare, actually. And I suspect that it was some trick by the rival houses."

Sikandar's eyes suddenly focused. He put the cup down, and fixed his light brown eyes on Albus. "Tell me the whole story."

Albus recounted him the whole dream he had with every detail he remembered.

"That was definitely not a normal nightmare." said Sikandar after Albus finished recounting his dream. "And you may have already thought so. This, however, is also not a dream that can be conjured by the rivalling houses."

Albus frowned. "Why is that?"

"Because they simply aren't capable of it." said Sikandar, explaining. "You see, conjuring dreams isn't simple. There are specific arcanic paths or artifacts for that, which, fortunately, none of the four houses possess. So, no. This wasn't done by any other houses."

"But what if they have hidden it? Like, a secret weapon or something?"

"They wouldn't dare." snorted Sikandar. "Every house must give information about the every arcanic paths and artifacts they possess to the other houses as well as the sect. And the sect leader, a demigod, himself takes responsibility for this exchange of information. There can't be any mishap in this. I have already told you about this already, haven't I?"

"I was just confirming." Albus lied. He mostly never put his focus on the boring lectures Sikandar usually gave about clan politics and what not. They didn't interest him. Only things about arcanic arts interested him, and nothing else. Well, not nothing. But arcanic arts was definitely at the top.

"I doubt that." Sikandar said, then sighed. "Anyway, the only possibility that is left now is that some old and crazy powerhouse has decided to guide you to his grave or something like that. And by the looks of the dream, you wouldn't want to find out about that, would you?"

"Absolutely not." Albus said, sighing. A pity it was, but he wasn't crazy, yet.

He stood up. It was almost 8:45 now. He didn't wanted to be late.

"I am going." he said, washing his hands, and leaving.

"Have a nice day." said Sikandar as he picked his cup and started sipping, but frowned.

There was no tea left.

**********

The Seven Ring Sect itself took one third of the Elrond city's total area, and even though the Elrond City itself wasn't that huge compared to the other big cities in the empire, it was still a big deal.

The display of it's true size showed in the varieties of facilities it gave to the arcanic artists, however. From a whole different area reserved for outer sect disciples and inner sect disciples respectively, it also had it's own separate market place. There, aside from the normal things that were usually available in a normal market, caravans from the other cities and places also came and sold ingredients related to arcanic arts there. It also gave hostel facilities to the students and housing facilities to the Elders of the sect. Though, it depend on the students if they want to stay in the hotel or return to their houses after classes.

Aside from that, there are alchemy halls, body refining pavilion, mediation halls, hunting ground and separate lecture halls for different subjects.

Albus was moving towards his hostel. He had to do his daily morning core refining. A routine he had fixed before his class starts at 10.

Along the way, he met, talked and greeted some juniors and seniors and some of the students from the same years. Most were either from his house, or were from the houses his house had friendly relations with.

There were five houses in total. He was the heir of Wolf Steel, and the others were Ketler, Rohan, Chankya and Kashyap. House Wolf Steel had friendly relations with Ketler and Rohan while being bitter enemies to house Chankya and Kashyap. Especially the Kashyap.

They had done something which could only be settled by blood.

Albus entered the hostel, climbed up the stairs, and went to his room.

It was a low ceilinged room with one bed, a window, a wooden desk and a steel drawer. To the right opened a door to the bathroom, and to the left opened the door to a small empty room with nothing but a small mattress and a drawer filled with pills and elixirs.

Albus went to the left room, and sat down on the mattress, and closed his eyes. Meditating. It was a necessary to calm your mind before core refining.

If someone asked how should one improve in arcanic arts? One simple answer would be to advance. And how should one advance? It was by adavancing one's core. And how should one refine their core? It was by refining your dantians. And how should one refine their dantians? By enhancing them with obe's essence.

It sounded simple, but Albus knew how complex it was.

The speed and the extent to how much a person could refine their dantians depended upon the size of their cores, and the size of their dantians was known by the grade of their talent. A, B, C, D and E were the five categories of talents.

The people with E grade talent have very small core and very low quality essence. Thus, they were forever stuck at Rank 9. The people with D grade didn't fare much better. With size and quality of essence only slightly better than E grade, they are usually able to push up to Rank 8. With C grade, the situation improves a lot. They can easily cultivate up to Rank 7, and if they have a lot of money and a good alchemist, then with the use of high quality elixirs and pills they can push up to Rank 6. Though, they are inferior to the natural Rank 6's, since their dantians get damaged with excessive use of pills and elixirs.

Now comes grade B and A. Rank B's size of core doesn't improve much from rank C but their quality of essence does a lot. This means that although they can reach Rank 6, it is near impossible for them to reach Rank 5. Unless they have demigods as their parents, I guess.

Grade A is the epitome. Arcanic artists with A grade can cultivate up to rank 5, and can try for the status of demigod. They are the most respected bunch under demigods.

Albus was a demigod, and so were the heirs of the other houses.

He opened his eyes, took a deep breadth, then again closed his eyes, focusing on his core and dantians, and frowned.

He opened his eyes, took a deep breadth, then again closed his eyes and focused on his core and dantians. His frown deepened.

He again opened his eyes, pinched himself on the cheek, squeaked an "Ouch," then closed his eyes, and focused on his core and dantian.

He was still for a long time.

Eventually, he cursed. "What the fuck?"

There were two cores.

A giant grade A core shined brightly like a blue sun in the dark void. There were thin lines portruding out of it, going into distance. Or more like connecting to the nervous system of his body. However, that core was not the problem.

It was the other one above it.

It was crimson red, and much much larger than his own core. If his core was the sun, then that thing was equal to five suns. It's dantians were also much thicker and…shinier, if he had to say. They went to the same direction to his own dantian, almost sticking together.

There was nothing like that yesterday.

"When did I have two cores?" he asked himself. Even though he didn't know the answer, but he knew that he needed one.

It was an established fact that a person can only possess one core. No amount of pills or elixirs or artifacts can grant one the possibility to possess two. And so far, there were no exception he had heard or known of. But he guess he was going to make one.

Wait, is it even a core? he suddenly thought.

Yes, it looks like a core. But does that mean it really is a core? A core is not simply a spherical looking colorful thing with thin lines protruding out, even though it may appear so. The most important thing a core must possess is essence. Only that can prove that if something is a core or not. And there's only one way to find that out.

Albus, however, hesitated. And reasonably so. He didn't know what would happen if he tried to get access to the essence of the core. Maybe he would burst up. Maybe he would bleed to death. Maybe he would get poisoned. Maybe, maybe, maybe. A lot of maybe's suddenly sprung up in his mind. But he controlled himself.

He thought about that one time when he was almost killed by a black cloud wolf, but was saved by Sikandar. Albus had asked him a question at that time. "How do I become stronger?"

Sikandar had thought for a moment, rubbed his chin, then smiled and said, "There was a saying my father always used to tell. 'What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.' I guess it means always endanger yourselves, and just don't die. Repeat that and you will become stronger than what you were yesterday."

I will become stronger if I survive. I wil become stronger if I survive. I will become stronger if I survive!

Albus tried controlled the essence of the other core.

The essence flowed. Like a water being pulled it flowed through the dantians, to his body, and he felt it. And he thought he died.

Cause' he saw his mother.

She was in front of him, in a frilled green drees. Her long blond hair was tied to a bun, which she usually did when she was home. A sweet smile danced upon her lips as her azure eyes stared at him with motherly affection.

"Mom?" he said in a dreamy voice, shock and disbelied lacing every inch of his voice.

"Yes, Albus." she said in a sweet voice.

"Mom?"

"Yes, my dear son."

"Mom?"

She just smiled at him.

He looked at her. He looked at her face. He looked at her smile. He looked at her eyes. He looked at the person that he longed to see day every day. He looked at the target of his miracles.

Albus looked at his mom, and broke down. Tears streamed down his pale cheeks.

A pitiful expression formed on her face. She bent down, and hugged him. Tightly. And so did he.

"Are you well, son?" she asked.

"Not without you." he said, sobbing.

She stroked his head. "Is your father well?"

"Yes." he lied. His dad had become a drunk man after his mothers death. Every night he comes, throws a fit about uncooked meal, and locks himself in his room. He wasn't even that punctual in his duties anymore, which was the reason of Sikandar's condition. But, Albus wouldn't tell that to her. He didn't wanted her to worry.

"Good." she said, still rubbing his head. Suddenly, as if she realized something, she pulled away from the hug, and looked straight into his eyes, her smile gone.

"Son, are you strong?" she asked.

Albus hesitated. "It's been only a month since I started practising arcanic arts."

"I am not talking about arcanic arts. I am asking if you think you are strong. Tell me, are you?"

Albus looked at those azure eyes, and felt suddenly as if they contained the entire world. A confidence that he had never felt in his entire life surged up inside him.

"Yes," he said. "Yes mom, I am strong."

"Good." she said, smiling again. "Goodbye then. It's time to wake up."

Albus opened his eyes.

The white mattress was the first thing he saw. Then the wooden floor, then the wooden wall, then the steel drawer, then back at the mattress.

It was wet with tears.

He was still for a long time. Then, slowly and awkwardly, like a newborn baby, lifted his hand and touched his fore head, and muttred quietly. "What was that…?"

No one answered that question--

[A dream.] said a hoarse voice.

"Huh?" It took Albus a moment to process what happened. But when he did, he jumped to his feet, and shouted. "Who was that!?"

[Your best friend] it said.

"I don't have one!"

[Then the person who knows you the best.]

"My mother is dead!"

[She knew less than me but anyway. Calm down, and listen to me. You can't harm me anyway, I am in your head.]

Albus opened his mouth, then shut it. There was some amount of logic to the strangers words. The last few words, at least.

He had checked his surroundings before. There wasn't anyone hiding in this room or the other or the one beside the other one. There wasn't anyone sticking to the ceiling, also. And using arcanic arts inside the hostel was strictly prohibited, and guards would have already barged in if someone was using it.

So one is in his flat.

I should probably listen to him, and see what he is saying. He seems to also have knowledge about what happened earlier.

"Speak." Albus said in an authorative tone.

[Gladly,] the voice said. [First of all, I must introduce myself. I am Ethan Lawoski, the carrier of the seven eyes, a mortal from another world and, the person you dreamt about yesterday night.]