Chapter 8: Subtle Shifts
The cool breeze from the open window caught the edge of the curtain, lifting it in soft waves. Sunlight filtered into the room, casting shadows across the desk where Argus sat. A scattering of papers lay before him, inked diagrams and detailed maps of long-past wars.
Loric's voice droned on in the background, though Argus wasn't paying attention. The older man's lesson had drifted into a familiar rhythm, one Argus had no trouble keeping up with even when his mind wandered.
He could feel it again—the faint pulse of something deep within him. The void energy sat quietly inside, like a pool waiting to be tapped into. His mother had assured him that it was only a matter of time before he could do more than feel it. And though the prospect excited him, it was the unknown that lingered in his thoughts.
"Argus?" Loric's voice broke into his concentration. "What would be your next move here?"
The boy blinked and turned his gaze to the diagram Loric had drawn—a mock battle between two opposing forces. With practiced ease, Argus pointed to a flank that the enemy had left exposed.
"They've overextended here," Argus said, his voice even. "Send in cavalry to break the line and cut off their retreat."
Loric paused, a hint of approval crossing his features. "You grasp strategy as if you've done this before. Perhaps you have," he added with a slight smirk.
Argus didn't respond with more than a wry smile. He wasn't interested in debating how quickly he was advancing, especially when there were more pressing matters to focus on.
The lesson wrapped up shortly after, with Loric gathering his notes and offering a brief nod. "Next time, we'll discuss more complex maneuvers," he said. "For now, you're free."
As the door clicked shut behind Loric, Argus sat back in his chair, eyes drifting to the window. Below, he could see the gardens, with Lily's laughter echoing faintly from somewhere beyond the hedges. A sudden tug at his heart made him stand—he needed a break.
The garden was alive with the scent of blooming flowers, the vibrancy of late spring filling the air. Argus wandered through the maze of greenery until he found Lily, her brown hair catching the light as she twirled in circles. She spotted him and, with a burst of energy, darted towards him.
"Argus!" Lily's small frame collided with him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Come play!"
Argus chuckled softly, ruffling her hair. "You always want to play, Lily. Don't you get tired?"
She shook her head vigorously, her eyes shining. "Never! You're the best at hiding, though. You always disappear so fast."
He raised an eyebrow, amused by her observation. Unbeknownst to her, his power was starting to manifest in tiny, unnoticeable ways. He hadn't told anyone yet, not even his mother. But even though he hadn't spoken of it, he was certain she already knew. Nothing escaped her gaze, especially when it came to him. She probably felt the changes, the subtle stirrings of power around him—after all, her knowledge of him ran deeper than anyone else's.
"Alright, one game," Argus relented, watching Lily's face light up.
Her laughter rang out as she darted back into the hedges, disappearing into the maze. Argus gave her a head start, walking slowly and listening to the sound of her footsteps fade away. He knew the grounds better than she did, having spent more time exploring the mansion's hidden corners. He could easily find her, but instead, he let his senses wander.
The void stirred within him, reacting to his quiet focus. His footsteps softened, his presence almost disappearing as he moved through the garden. There was something about the way shadows bent around him, making it feel as though he could vanish at any moment.
"Found you!" Lily's voice startled him out of his thoughts. She leaped from a bush, her arms outstretched. Argus barely dodged in time, laughing as she tackled him.
"You're getting better," he said, pretending to struggle under her weight. "But I'm still the best at hiding."
"You won't escape me next time!" she giggled, sitting back on her knees, her eyes full of playful determination.
Argus smiled, a rare, genuine expression reserved only for moments like this. Lily's innocence was a welcome break from the complexities of his daily lessons and the expectations surrounding him. Here, in the garden with her, everything felt simpler.
"One more round?" she asked, hopeful.
He considered it for a moment before nodding. "Alright, one more. But you better run fast."
With a delighted squeal, she was off again, darting between the hedges. Argus watched her disappear before standing, feeling the void pulse within him once more. He let it guide him, moving effortlessly and silently through the paths.
Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Argus found himself back in his room. His hands hovered over a small wooden box on his desk, the light dim in the quiet space. He stared at his fingers, willing the energy inside him to respond.
It had been weeks since his awakening, and the sensation of the void had grown stronger, more persistent. And yet, every time he tried to control it, to push it outward, nothing happened. His mother's words echoed in his mind: Patience, my darling.
But patience wasn't his strong suit.
Taking a deep breath, Argus focused again, feeling the void stir. His hand flexed, and for a fleeting second, darkness swirled around his fingertips, barely visible in the dim light. It vanished almost immediately, but the spark of progress sent a thrill through him.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. The door creaked open, revealing Rhea's familiar figure. Her presence always brought a sense of calm with it, a contrast to the often overwhelming intensity of his mother.
"You're still up," she said gently, stepping into the room. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."
Argus shrugged, turning his hand over in the faint light, as if still expecting something to happen. "Just thinking."
Rhea moved closer, her eyes soft as they studied him. "I've never heard of anyone awakening so young," she said quietly, her voice filled with wonder. "You're remarkable, Argus."
A faint smile tugged at his lips, though he quickly turned his gaze away. Compliments still felt strange to him, especially when he wasn't sure how much of his potential had been unlocked.
"It doesn't feel remarkable yet," he admitted. "I can't even control it."
"You will," Rhea reassured him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You have time. No one expects you to master it overnight."
For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence. Rhea's presence grounded him in a way that few others did. She wasn't like his mother—intensely watchful, always expectant. She allowed him the space to breathe, to be uncertain.
"Are you going to join us for dinner tomorrow?" Rhea asked, breaking the quiet.
"Maybe," Argus said with a faint smile. "If Lily doesn't drag me into another game."
Rhea chuckled softly and turned to leave, pausing at the doorway. "Get some rest, Argus. Tomorrow is another full day."
As the door closed behind her, Argus glanced once more at his hand, clenching it into a fist. The void was there, waiting. He just had to reach it.
The next morning brought with it another set of lessons, but Argus was restless. He shifted in his seat as Vernal lectured on political alliances, but his mind kept wandering back to his experiment the night before. He could feel the void energy coiling inside him, teasing him with its proximity to the surface.
After what felt like an eternity, Vernal dismissed him, and Argus practically bolted from the study. Instead of heading back to his room, he found himself in a quiet corner of the mansion's expansive library, where the dim light and heavy shadows gave him the privacy he sought.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he stretched out his hands. The quiet hum of the void whispered to him, closer now. His breath slowed as he focused, and this time, the dark energy curled around his fingers, more pronounced than before. It wasn't perfect—still flickering like a fragile flame—but it was real.
Progress.
And it was only the beginning.