Chapter 5: Discipline and Discovery
Morning in the Augustine estate was a familiar rhythm for Argus—study followed by training. Though his world had been shaped by the mansion and the people within it, his lessons were designed to prepare him for a future that stretched far beyond the estate's walls. Knowledge was power, and Master Varnel ensured that Argus would never be without either.
In the grand library, sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting long shadows across the shelves of books. Argus sat at a large oak desk, flipping through the pages of an old tome, his focus sharp. Master Varnel stood nearby, selecting another book from the towering shelves.
"Your progress has been steady, Master Argus," Varnel said, his voice low and measured.
Argus looked up, curious but familiar with the routine. Varnel rarely deviated from his focus on history and politics.
"You've studied the great houses, the Empire's systems of governance, and the intricacies of power," Varnel continued, placing a new book in front of Argus. "But there are other forces at play in the world, forces that don't always adhere to the rules we've studied."
Argus opened the book, revealing maps and sketches of distant cities, marked with unfamiliar symbols. His eyes flicked over the text, but it was Varnel's voice that kept his attention.
"The Empire is the dominant force in the central realm," Varnel explained, "but it is not alone. There are other powers—the Youkai in the East, Elves in the West, Vampires in the South, Dragons in the North, Dwarves underground, and even ancient houses, like the Augustine family, powerful enough to hold their own seats."
Argus gave a small nod, recognizing his family's place among the ancient houses.
"These powers, despite their differences, formed the Alliance," Varnel continued, "to maintain peace and protect the central realm from external threats."
Argus didn't ask any further questions. He understood that the Alliance was just a means to an end—a way to prevent open conflict between the powers while guarding against dangers beyond the realm.
After his time in the library, Argus headed toward the training grounds, his mind still buzzing with the morning's lesson. The estate was quiet, as it often was during this time of day, but there was a different kind of energy in the air—an undercurrent of expectation.
The training yard was a simple, utilitarian space, with wooden dummies lined up for combat practice. Argus picked up a staff, its familiar weight steady in his hands. He had trained here many times before, but today felt different.
Celeste stood on the edge of the grounds, her gaze fixed on him. She had taken a more active role in his training over the past few months, and though she rarely spoke, Argus had grown attuned to her silent presence. There was something about her—a quiet intensity that made him feel like he was being tested, even when she remained still.
He moved through the drills with practiced ease, the staff cutting through the air in sharp arcs. But even as he pushed himself, he could feel her eyes on him—watchful, observant. It wasn't just the gaze of a caretaker or a servant. There was something more in the way she watched him, something Argus couldn't quite put his finger on.
As he completed the drill, Celeste's voice cut through the stillness. "You hesitate."
Argus stopped, his grip tightening on the staff. "I'm not hesitating."
"You are," she replied, stepping closer. "Your movements are precise, but you hold back. You're not embracing the power you've awakened."
Argus's jaw clenched slightly. He knew she was right, but he wasn't sure why. He had grown stronger since his awakening, but part of him still felt uncertain—like there was more to his power that he hadn't yet discovered.
"Again," Celeste said, her tone calm but firm.
Argus nodded and resumed his drills, pushing himself harder this time. The staff moved with more force, his strikes sharper, more deliberate. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, but he didn't slow down.
When he finished, Celeste stepped forward, her expression as unreadable as ever. "Better," she said. "But you still have much to learn."
Argus looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was something in her tone—something that hinted at experience, at knowledge far beyond what he would expect from a mere maid. He had always known that Celeste was different, but now, more than ever, he wondered how much she truly understood about power and control.
For a moment, Argus thought he saw a flicker of something in her eyes—approval, perhaps, or recognition. But it disappeared just as quickly, leaving him uncertain.
He watched her carefully as she turned to leave, her posture as composed as ever. There was more to Celeste than met the eye. Argus could feel it.
As she left the training ground, the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance. Argus lingered for a moment, his mind returning to her words. Celeste's presence in his life was more significant than he had once realized. There was a depth to her—an understanding of the world that Argus had yet to fully grasp.
Later in the day, after training had ended, Argus returned to the library. The room felt cooler in the afternoon light, the weight of the morning's studies still fresh in his mind. As he sat at the desk, flipping idly through the pages of a history book, he heard the soft creak of the library door.
Rhea entered, her steps quiet but purposeful. She moved with the grace Argus had come to associate with her—a quiet elegance that seemed at odds with the tension that often surrounded the Augustine family.
"Still studying?" Rhea asked, her voice gentle as she approached.
Argus glanced up, offering a small nod. "It's important."
Rhea smiled faintly and took a seat beside him, her eyes drifting to the book he was reading. "You remind me of your mother."
Argus raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"
Rhea's smile softened, a hint of nostalgia in her gaze. "When we were at the academy together, she was always like this—focused, determined. Evangeline never stopped pushing herself, always reaching for more. It was like she couldn't rest until she knew everything."
Argus blinked, surprised by the revelation. His mother rarely spoke of her past, and he had never heard her mention anything about the academy or the time before she came to the estate.
"She studied constantly," Rhea continued, her voice thoughtful. "There were times when I wondered if she ever allowed herself a moment of peace. But that's what made her who she is—what made her so powerful."
Argus absorbed the information quietly, a new layer of understanding forming in his mind. His mother's relentless drive, her need for control—it wasn't just about power. It was who she had always been.
Rhea's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she stood. "Just remember, Argus, you don't have to do everything the way your mother did. You have your own path to follow."
Rhea's words hung in the air long after she left the library. Argus remained at the desk, her advice circling in his mind. He was bound to a legacy, to his mother's expectations, but Rhea was right—he had his own path to carve, one shaped by both the world he knew and the world yet to come.
Argus stood up and walked to the large windows overlooking the estate. The view stretched out before him, the horizon just visible beyond the sprawling grounds. In the distance, he could hear the waves crashing against the cliffs—a steady, rhythmic reminder that the world outside was vast and untamed.
He was no longer a child, and his awakening had marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life. Whatever came next, Argus knew that he would face it with the strength he was beginning to understand—and the power he was still learning to wield.