Now it was Rony's father who beamed at his words.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Rony crossed his arms with a scowl.
"And you do?" Morvain raised an eyebrow, then sighed. "What's your ability?"
"What?"
"Your ability? What is it? I take it you're at least awakened."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything," Morvain responded. "The captain just mentioned that without an ability, you can't work on anything owned by the Royalty. Do you understand what that means?"
The boy fell into an awkward silence, scratching his head as if searching for the right words. "I... uh... I've got Luminescent Crystalcraft."
A sudden, awkward quiet engulfed the room, pierced only by the distant sounds of party from the upper decks. Morvain, unable to contain himself any longer, burst into laughter.
He clutched his stomach and bent over, barely managing to stammer out, "Wha-what are you gonna do with that? Send your light crystals to brighten up the chambers of lords and ladies?"
Rony's face turned as red as a tomato. His ears practically had their own disco, burning with a mix of shame and anger. He was trembling like a leaf. And just to make matters more amusing, Rony's father was desperately trying not to lose it, struggling to stifle laughter and keep a straight face.
"You're a fool, my friend. You can't even be a servant of the Royalty or a guard for them. They'll look down on you like you're nothing, maybe a tad better than those who aren't awakened. Still not worthy of being treated as an equal. Welcome to the real world, kid. And if you don't learn that fast, you're gonna be eaten up, alive," he declared.
He fell silent and glanced downward. "See, I told you—" His father was about to add something, but Rony cut in.
"Shut it, weak man," the boy scoffed. "If you had just been born into a highborn family, I wouldn't even be saying this. I could have basked in all the luxuries they enjoy, and I might've even got an actual useful ability."
His father lapsed into silence.
'Is this how relatives act, or is this... just messed up?' Morvain pondered, considering what might have been if he had known the presence of a father and mother. 'They don't even resemble each other; it's like these two are polar opposites. Something's going on.'
"Where's his mother?" Morvain, more often than not, could be rather blunt. He didn't believe in beating around the bush or in not knowing what to say and when to say it.
"She died in childbirth," Rony responded.
Morvain noticed Rony's father growing visibly uneasy. Fingers fidgeting, he avoided meeting their eyes. It wasn't sadness that Morvain sensed but something else—something he was all too familiar with.
'A lie,' Morvain thought. 'It must be a lie.'
"Enough about that! Regardless, I'm determined to reach Sunshard City. I'll become a knight or a soldier, carve out a name for myself, and ensure that no one dares to look down on me!" He clenched his fist and made his declaration.
'Ah, there's the fire. If I can mold him into something, I can definitely use him. Well, I guess I should scrap the old plan for the boy.'
"Could you step out for a moment, sir?" Morvain asked the old man. The elder glanced at Morvain, then at the boy, before sighing. With a nod, he stood up and ambled toward the door.
"Please call me Ron, son. If anything, I should be calling you sir." With that, he opened the door and exited the room.
A pause settled in the room as Morvain and Rony locked eyes. Morvain took a few steps toward Rony and extended his arms, "Mo—" he caught himself, his head whipping slightly to the right. What could he do? The name had been his since birth, and he rather liked the sound of it. "Eldric. It's my name. Eldric. Nice to meet you."
Rony looked at his hands for a moment before shaking Morvain's hand and giving a slight nod. "Rony."
"Say, Rony," Morvain said, settling leisurely onto his bed and folding his legs. "What do you think about our society? And don't just say it's messed up. I know that. We all know that. I want you to tell me what you genuinely think about it."
"What do I think?"
"Yeah."
"I think... I think it's messed up. It's so damn messed up! Why the hell are people born different from each other? Why are some folks so strong while others are weak as hell? And why the hell does luck decide how someone gets treated? If you're born to a lord, you're the luckiest bastard in the entire world. Anything else, and you're just one minute away from death, drowning in your own blood in some shithole, all alone. No one to stand by you and no one to lend a hand."
'That's true. So damn true. I know about that better than anyone else.' Morvain nodded.
He was impressed. He liked this boy, but the thing is, he's pretty useless with his abilities. Morvain wants someone awakened to boost his plan—the real plan, not the one Gideon gave him but the one he'd been itching to execute since the moment he gained consciousness.
"Why? Why do you ask?" Rony stared into those crimson eyes, a small smile playing on the lips of this weak, skinny man. There was something peculiar about the boy, something elusive yet intriguing that Rony couldn't quite pinpoint.
"Do you want to shake up this messed-up society? Crave to pull those highlords from their fancy thrones, stomp on their heads until they bleed out, and beg for your forgiveness?" Morvain's hands tightened, the intensity real and strong. No drama; just the raw, real deal.
"Imagine a world where the powerless rise, and the mighty fall. Picture the playing field leveled, no one born to privilege, no one sentenced to misery. We can be the builders of change, tearing down the walls that confine us and making those highlords feel the weight of their arrogance. Are you ready to be the spark, the force that reshapes the destiny of every soul in this messed-up land?"
As Morvain spoke, Rony felt the words echo within him, sending a shiver down his spine. His hair stood on end, and his eyes widened in fear. It was like facing a dangerous force, not a weak, skinny man.
'What was that?' Rony wondered. 'Am I scared of this boy? What is this feeling?' Despite the fear, Rony found himself captivated by the boy. Unconsciously, he clenched his fist.
"Do you want to shake up this society and make things fair? Or better," Morvain paused, his words lingering in the air, filled with anticipation. "To pull them down to our level and make them live in the same lousy places?"
There wasn't any other option here. Only one. And Rony chose it.
"Yes."