Confronting the Present

Valen's eyes snapped open.

He lay motionless in his chamber, the morning light spilling through the large, arched windows, casting golden hues across the room.

For a moment, he breathed the sensation of life itself feeling strange after his ordeal. His body felt foreign, weaker in some ways but also… different.

The absence of his Primordial Core gnawed at him, a loss that still lingered in his mind. Yet, despite the hollow emptiness left behind, something else stirred within him, undefined but potent.

As the memories of the ritual surged forward, Valen's thoughts flickered to Aeliana. Her innocent face, the pain in her eyes during those final moments—it all flashed before him, stirring something deep within.

For a fleeting moment, a pang of regret cut through his cold exterior. The girl had trusted him, followed him without question, and he had led her to her death.

But the feeling was quickly swallowed, buried beneath the weight of his ambition. Power has always required sacrifice.

Aeliana had been a tool, just as she was meant to be. Her death, though tragic, had paved the way for something greater.

Pushing himself up from the bed, Valen forced the memories aside. He could not afford to dwell on them. He had survived, and now, he had to focus on what lay ahead.

Whatever new power pulsed within him, he would discover its depths soon enough. For now, he needed information.

He summoned Alaric with a simple thought, and within moments, the loyal servant appeared, his footsteps barely audible as he entered the room.

"My lord," Alaric greeted, bowing low. His eyes flicked to Valen, a brief hesitation in his gaze. Though Alaric had always served without question, something in him had shifted after witnessing the ritual. There was fear there, well-hidden, but not invisible.

Valen noticed the slight tremor in Alaric's hands as he approached. A faint smile touched Valen's lips, though it was cold and humorless.

Power had always inspired fear, and Alaric's unease was just another sign of Valen's growing influence. Still, he chose not to address it, merely noting it as a silent reminder of the control he held.

"Give me a report," Valen said, his voice sharp and commanding.

Alaric straightened, his face composed despite the underlying tension. "Everything has been handled discreetly, my lord."

"The ritual site has been cleaned, and no traces remain. Even if someone were to comb through the forest, they would find nothing out of the ordinary."

Valen nodded. He had expected nothing less. Alaric had always been thorough, and Valen's trust in him was well-placed, though never absolute. "And the family? What have they been told?"

Alaric hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing, "I've informed them that the incident was the result of an experiment gone wrong."

"You were attempting something new, but when you lost control of the energy, Aeliana was too close. She was caught in the backlash, and... she did not survive."

"I also made it clear that you sustained injuries during the incident."

For a brief moment, the image of Aeliana's last moments flashed again in Valen's mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. "And they believed this?"

Alaric nodded. "Yes, my lord. The explanation was vague enough to avoid suspicion but believable enough to keep them from asking too many questions."

"Good," Valen said, his voice low. "Very good."

As Alaric finished his report, Valen's thoughts drifted to the absence of his Primordial Core once more.

He could feel something new stirring inside him, a strange energy that was not mana. The power was there, but undefined, lingering just beyond his reach.

There was no time to explore it now, but soon, he would uncover its true nature.

He rose from the bed, his movements slow but deliberate. "I need to speak with my parents. They will be concerned about me and Aeliana's death." His voice was steady, calculating. "Prepare for my visit."

Alaric bowed once more and left the room, leaving Valen alone with his thoughts.

The grand hall of the Aetheris estate was as opulent as ever, its high ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers, and walls lined with tapestries depicting scenes of battle and victory.

Valen's footsteps echoed softly as he made his way toward the sitting room where his parents waited.

As he entered, Marcellus and Isolde looked up, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern. His mother, Isolde, immediately rose from her seat, her amethyst eyes scanning him with maternal worry.

"Valen," she said softly, stepping toward him. "We've been so worried. You've been absent for days. What happened?"

Valen inclined his head, letting just enough emotion seep into his voice to sell the story. "Mother, Father... I owe you both an explanation. I was conducting an experiment—a dangerous one—and... I lost control of the energy."

He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. "Aeliana was too close when it happened. She didn't survive."

Isolde although still a bit cold had, her eyes widening in shock. For a moment, there was silence in the room. Marcellus, ever composed, stood from his chair, his expression grim.

"An experiment?" Marcellus asked, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of tension. "What kind of experiment could result in such a loss?"

Valen lowered his gaze, feigning guilt. "One I should not have attempted. I was trying to implement my studies to form an effective mana repelling circle—something that could be quite powerful for creating manaless zones —but it was beyond my control."

Aeliana was caught in the backlash, and by the time I realized what had happened... it was too late."

His mother's eyes filled with sadness, but Marcellus remained quiet, his gaze sharp and appraising.

Valen could feel his father's eyes on him, searching for any sign of weakness or deceit.

But Valen had mastered the art of deception long ago. His expression remained composed, his words carefully chosen.

"It was my failure," Valen continued, his voice soft but firm. "And I will bear the consequences of it."

Isolde reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Valen, you are alive. That's what matters. Aeliana's death is a tragedy, but you... you must not blame yourself."

Marcellus, too, softened, though his tone remained firm. "This is a loss, yes. But one you will recover from. It's a tragic step, but path to greatness has always required sacrifice. Do not let this deter you."

Valen nodded, his expression carefully crafted to convey both regret and determination. "I will not."

His father's eyes gleamed with pride as he spoke again, his voice more encouraging now. "You've always been strong, Valen. This is merely another test. You will overcome it, and you will emerge stronger for it."

Isolde smiled, though still feeling a bit sad about the loss, and Marcellus placed a firm hand on Valen's shoulder. "Tonight, join us for dinner. You need rest, and we need to ensure you are well."

Valen smiled faintly, knowing that he had successfully deflected their suspicions. "I would be honored."

As he left the sitting room, his mind raced. His parents had accepted his explanation, but there was still much to be done.

The loss of his Primordial Core weighed heavily on him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his parents would notice it.

For now, he would play the role of the grieving son. But beneath the surface, Valen was already planning his next move.