Broken Soul

"So, the trials are going to start in about seven months from now?"

An elderly man spoke, his voice hoarse. His beard flowed like a waterfall around his chest, and the weathered face that adorned him showed a determination that still burned within him. Master Vedana kept his eyes closed, not even glancing at the child behind him.

"Yes, Master. But it's for the first stage. It's about knowledge. I need your advice."

There was no response from the old man. He exhaled as if he were dispelling an evil force trying to regain control over him. In the serene natural setting with bamboo trees scattered around, Master Vedana sat on the large rock enveloped by a rope.

"Knowledge is not about memorizing; it's about what makes you think about it," his voice echoed through the wind. "Knowledge surrounds us, child, but if you don't think about it, it doesn't matter."

"You will understand once you face the trial." He resumed but now he turned around to face Alorian. His wrinkled eyes beamed with equilibrium that seems faded when he look at the child.

"Master? Is something wrong?" Alorian who has been observed by the elder feels uncomfortable.

"I sense a different Prana inside you," Master Vedana still wasn't sure what he had seen. "Perhaps not," he said and descended from the rock. "Perhaps it's still the same as before but now seems... tainted."

Alorian is taken aback to hear what the elder said. A sweat began to flow around his forehead as Master Vedana came closer. He sat in front of Alorian with the same move. For whatever reason, his face turned serious and his white brows furrowed.

"I'm afraid this is not a common issue," he muttered as he closed his eyes again. "As the Prana is not easily tainted like this for a couple of days after you come back to the castle."

"What has happened, child?" he inquired when he opened his lids, staring at the kid. "What have you done?"

Alorian's unease grew with each passing moment, his heart racing as he grappled with a secret he could never bring himself to confess—his forbidden sex with his own mother. Master Vedana's unwavering stare bore into him, like a weight on his conscience that threatened to crush him.

He lowered his head even further, his eyes downcast, overwhelmed by the remorse that chewed at him from within.

"I... I don't know, Master," Alorian stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm overwhelmed by the loss of my elder and father, that's it."

The old man could sense an unusual aura about Alorian. He was sure of it. Such a rapid corruption of one's Prana couldn't happen to someone with a pure heart. It was only those who had truly immersed themselves in wrongdoing and were consciously allowing it to persist who could experience such a phenomenon.

Master Vedana found concern in the fact that Alorian kept stealing glances at him, his confidence in his assumption stronger. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes once more and spoke, "Judgment is not mine to pass. My role is to guide you through the trials. Now, focus on your studies!"

Alorian's anxious nod spoke volumes. He felt a mounting urgency to escape this situation before Master Vedana unraveled the truth. He couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that the old man might have already glimpsed the secrets buried within him but was choosing to remain silent.

With purpose, he strode toward the expansive courtyard, where a group of students engaged in martial arts training demonstrated incredible precision and synchronization. The rhythmic strikes and echoing shouts filled the air, creating an electrifying atmosphere of discipline and dedication.

Although Alorian was intrigued by the martial arts training and the new experiences around him, his mind was consumed by torment. He couldn't escape the guilt over his actions, particularly those moments when his desires overpowered him. What haunted him even more was the fact that he had coerced his own mother, who raised him with love and care, into satisfying his lusts, and the absence of remorse weighed heavily on his conscience.

"I'm crazy! Have I lost my moral compass?!" Alorian scolded himself, frustration is evident as he roughly tousled his disheveled hair. The path he had chosen seemed irreversible, and he couldn't fathom how he could succeed in trials where the purity of Prana was the key determinant.

As he entered a wooden house nestled at a bend in the path, he collided with an unexpected presence. To his astonishment, it was his own sister, Isvhara. Alorian's face suddenly lit up with a mixture of surprise and relief, momentarily dispelling some of the heaviness that had burdened his heart.

"Alorian?" Isvhara's voice emerged from her sweet lips, her eyes widening in surprise. Even her chest rose and fell as she struggled to catch her breath. "Are you okay?"

Alorian's face was drenched in sweat, and he seemed like a completely different person from the Alorian she once knew – the one who had been innocent and endearing. Now, he appeared burdened by a profound and heavy problem.

"I'm sorry, sister, I didn't see you there," Alorian exclaimed in a panic. He quickly got to his feet and left Isvhara sprawled there alone, still in shock.

His breath was labored as he navigated the corridor, passing by several students who watched his odd behavior, including the Master's assistant who was perplexed by the Prince of Caeloria. His mind was consumed by fear of the future, haunted by the dread of potential failure.

With a powerful push, he splintered the door, entered, and secured it behind him, his breath ragged from the exertion. Collapsing, his legs weary from the burden of his tumultuous emotions, he sank to the floor.

At that moment, his father's words echoed in his mind, emphasizing that success in the trials was all that mattered, nothing else. He had committed a significant transgression, one that the Obsidian Sage Order had callously overlooked regarding his mother's condition. All they cared about was that child—the child born perfectly suited to inherit the throne of Caeloria.

Tears trickled slowly from his swollen, reddened eyes as he grasped his own ebony hair, his gaze falling downward. The room resonated with his increasingly loud sobs.

"Mother... forgive me, forgive me!" Alorian whispered amidst his tears, finally rising to his feet and fixating on a small dagger resting on the nightstand.

His legs quivered violently, his mind adrift in contemplation. His emotions had withered, his heart rendered numb, leaving behind an empty shell. He had believed this second chance at life would bring happiness, and indeed, he had been happy. So happy that it had led to self-destruction.

He swiftly unsheathed the dagger, its raven hue gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the windows. With each nervous swallow, the boy steeled himself for what he was about to do.

Reversing the dagger's position, he held it before his chest, its point aimed directly at the wellspring of his life. His trembling hands clutched the weapon, outcries now transformed into anguished groans. He was torn between resistance and surrender, caught in a relentless inner struggle.

But as he contemplated his actions, he couldn't shake the thought of how much more devastated his mother would be to lose him, especially after the recent deaths of his elder and father. All he had ever wanted was to bring happiness to his mother, not the unending torment he had inflicted upon her.

With a desperate shout, he fought against the dagger's pull, managing to toss it beneath the mattress. Collapsing onto the soft bed, he slipped into unconsciousness shortly after, the turmoil within him temporarily silenced.

The roosters' morning calls marked the beginning of their day, stirring the students from their slumber. They filed out of their rooms, making their way to a spacious hall filled with an array of breakfast options.

In an orderly and disciplined fashion, they satisfied their ravenous appetites, approaching the meal with solemnity and patience. Among the crowd, Alorian stood out, still dressed in the disheveled black attire he had worn the day before.

He had been in a state of unconsciousness from noon until morning, leaving him weak and famished. The persistent guilt from his actions continued to plague his thoughts, never giving him respite.

Finally securing his much-needed meal, he found an empty table and prepared to devour his breakfast. However, his solitude was short-lived as a girl approached him, bowing deeply in respect.

"Young Master, I offer my deepest condolences for the loss of your father and elder," her black hair cascaded until she tucked it behind her ear as she straightened. "May the divine grant you the strength to endure."

Alorian managed a faint smile, acknowledging her words with a simple, "Thank you."

As the woman moved away to fetch her own breakfast, Alorian's attention briefly shifted to his sister, who was patiently waiting in line. However, it wasn't his sister who captured his fascination; it was someone standing behind Isvhara.

The figure with flowing white hair held Alorian's gaze to the point where he found it hard to look away. Bathed in the radiant sunlight, her face seemed to glow with an ethereal beauty, one that didn't quite fit the typical appearance of someone from Caeloria, given her hair color.

Almost as if, she resembled the figure Alorian had glimpsed in his vision. What Alorian didn't know was that Isvhara and the woman seemed to be acquainted. Realizing he was alone at his table, they quickly walked toward him.