Chapter 2: The Awakening
The morning sun crept slowly over the horizon, casting the Augustine estate in a warm, golden light. Argus stirred in his sleep, the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs a steady rhythm in the background. The sound had always been a constant, but today, it felt different, as if each crash carried an undertone of something darker, something unknown.
He lay still for a moment, nestled closely against his mother, Evangeline. Her arm was draped possessively over his small body, her soft breath against his hair. The closeness between them was familiar, yet there was a sense of tension beneath it today—something stirring that hadn't been there before. Even with her protective hold around him, Argus felt something inside himself begin to pull away, something calling him from beyond the warmth of the bed.
When his eyes finally fluttered open, the world felt... different. Sharper, darker, as though the very shadows in the room had come alive, watching him, waiting. The crashing waves outside seemed to echo the strange pulse within him, the rhythm of the void.
He gently shifted away from his mother's embrace, careful not to wake her. The familiar warmth of her presence was comforting, but today, it did little to calm the strange energy bubbling inside him. He slipped out of bed, padding barefoot across the cool marble floor. The air felt heavier, almost thick, as if something unseen had entered the room with him.
The estate was silent, save for the ever-present sound of the waves crashing in the distance, but as Argus moved through the hallways, the silence seemed to hum with an unseen force. The shadows in the corners stretched and twisted, bending in unnatural ways as if responding to his presence. The further he walked, the stronger the sensation grew, like the darkness itself was alive, waiting for him to command it.
He stepped outside into the garden, the morning breeze cool against his skin, and immediately felt the pull. The shadows beneath the hedges trembled, darkening as he approached. The air around him buzzed with energy, but it wasn't a storm. It was something deeper, something ancient and boundless.
Argus stood at the edge of the garden, his heart pounding in his chest, and stretched out his hand. The shadows answered.
They surged toward him, twisting and coiling like tendrils of darkness. The void inside him pulsed, as though it had been waiting for this moment, and for the first time, Argus could feel it—his power. It wasn't warm or bright like the stories of others' awakenings. His power was the void—cold, infinite, stretching beyond anything he could comprehend. The shadows weren't just reacting to him; they were a part of him.
As Argus stood in the garden, watching the shadows coil around him, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was different. Awakening was supposed to be an internal shift—something quiet, with only a faint pulse of energy seeping out. That's what he had read, what he had been told. But this... this was far beyond that.
The shadows themselves seemed to respond to him, bending and shifting as though they were part of him. Most people didn't experience this. His awakening wasn't supposed to have such... manifestations. It was something more—something deeper, darker. Perhaps, in some ways, it was like the awakening of others from powerful bloodlines, but even then, Argus sensed that his was different. The void was not content to remain hidden inside him; it wanted to be known, even now, before he fully understood it.
A voice broke through the stillness.
"Argus."
He turned quickly to see his mother standing at the entrance of the garden. Her expression was calm, but her eyes glittered with something deeper—something knowing. She had felt it too. She had always known this would happen.
"You've awakened," she said, her voice quiet but filled with certainty.
Argus swallowed, his gaze flickering between her and the shadows still coiled around him. "I... didn't know it would be like this."
His mother's lips curved into a small smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It was always going to be this way for you, Argus. This is your power—unique, unlike anything else."
He glanced down at the shadows. They felt natural now, as though they had always been there, waiting for him to claim them. "The void," he murmured, almost to himself.
"Yes," Evangeline said, stepping closer. "It is a power beyond what most could ever hope to wield. It is you."
She placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. "You are different, Argus. And you will be greater because of it."
Her words filled him with a quiet certainty. There was no shock in her reaction, no surprise. Only an understanding that this was always meant to happen. For his mother, this moment was inevitable. It was as if she had known all along that this was what he would become.
Later that morning, Argus sat at the dining table, his mind still processing the events in the garden. His mother had left him to prepare for the day, but the sense of the void still lingered inside him, cold and unyielding. The estate staff moved around him as usual, but their gazes were filled with curiosity.
Celeste entered the room, her footsteps soft but deliberate. She began setting the table, casting her usual observant gaze over him. When she met his eyes, she frowned slightly, as if sensing something different about him.
"Master Argus," she said softly, "you seem... different."
Argus nodded, his mind still swirling with the power that now rested beneath his skin. "I've awakened."
Celeste's breath caught, her normally stoic face betraying a flicker of surprise. "Awakened? At your age?"
He nodded again. "It happened this morning."
She hesitated for a moment, then her expression softened. "That is because you are accepting it. Most never awaken, and those who do, never this young."
Celeste studied him for a moment longer, a small, approving smile playing at her lips. "Your mother must be very proud."
"She knew it would happen," Argus replied. "It was like she expected it."
Celeste didn't seem surprised by this, simply nodding as if she had known as well. "You are your mother's son, after all."
Argus considered her words for a moment. Earlier, he had been shocked—surprised by the darkness that surged within him. But now, after his mother's calm acceptance, it felt... inevitable. The void inside him was a part of who he was, and while others may have been taken aback by his awakening, the nonchalance with which his mother treated it made him believe this was always his path. The surprise had faded, replaced by a quiet understanding of his place in the world.
By mid-morning, the whispers had spread throughout the estate. Everywhere Argus went, the maids and staff looked at him with awe, their pride in their young master unmistakable.
"Seven years old, and he's already awakened."
"I knew he was special, but this... this is something else."
"He'll be great, just like his mother."
The attention didn't faze Argus. It wasn't the praise that mattered—it was the quiet understanding of what he had become. He didn't seek admiration, nor did he revel in it. The void inside him, infinite and unyielding, was a part of who he was. And though it had shocked him at first, his mother's belief in his greatness made him see it for what it truly was: inevitable.
That night, after the initial shock of Argus's awakening, Evangeline had drawn him close, her arm wrapped protectively around him as they lay together in her chambers. The room was dimly lit, the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs outside creating a calm rhythm, though Argus's mind buzzed with the new sensations of power coursing through him.
He had never felt anything like it before—this vast, infinite presence inside him. The void, raw and consuming, was a part of him now, though he was still unsure how to control it. It was both exhilarating and daunting.
Evangeline's hand softly stroked his hair as they lay together. She seemed unfazed by the magnitude of what had just happened, her calm presence a steadying force for Argus.
"You mustn't let it overwhelm you," she whispered, her voice soothing against the quiet of the room. "The void is part of you now. You will learn to master it."
Argus shifted slightly, his head resting against her shoulder. "I know," he replied quietly, though his thoughts were racing. "I can feel it... but it's so much."
Evangeline's fingers continued to thread through his hair, her touch gentle. "For now, we must be cautious," she said, her tone soft but deliberate. "No one beyond these walls needs to know just yet."
Her words hung in the air for a moment before Argus processed them. His mother had always been deliberate and precise, never acting without purpose. He didn't need to ask why they would keep his awakening quiet. The reasoning was clear—awakening at his age was unheard of, and it would bring too much attention, too soon.
Evangeline continued, her voice as calm as ever. "We'll say you awakened at 9. It's still rare enough to be impressive, but it will avoid the scrutiny we don't need."
Argus nodded slowly, understanding her plan. She had always known how to manage the world around her, and he trusted her instincts. She had already thought ahead, as she always did, ensuring that the truth of his power would be revealed only when the time was right.
"They won't question it," she added, her fingers gently tracing his cheek. "You'll still be seen as exceptional—but we control how much they see."
Argus absorbed her words. There was comfort in knowing she had already mapped out how they would handle his future, and it was a future they would shape together. Her plan made sense, as it always did, and he trusted her completely.
"I understand," he whispered, his voice steady now.
Evangeline smiled down at him, a rare expression of warmth crossing her features. "Good," she said softly, brushing his hair from his forehead. "You are my son, Argus. And you are destined for great things."
As the night settled in around them, she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering just long enough to fill the space between them with an unspoken promise.
"Goodnight, my son," she whispered, her voice filled with love.
Argus closed his eyes, feeling the comfort of her presence beside him, her breath steady and warm. "Goodnight, Mother."
In the silence of the room, with the waves softly crashing outside, Argus let himself drift into sleep, his mother's steady presence guiding him, just as it always had.