Chapter 11: Rhythm in Discipline
The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Argus lay quietly, his mother's arms wrapped around him in their usual sleeping arrangement. Evangeline's embrace was firm, almost possessive, and despite the gentleness of the moment, there was no doubt in Argus's mind that escaping without waking her was going to be a challenge.
With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, Argus began the delicate process of freeing himself. He slid his hand slowly from under hers, pausing each time her grip tightened instinctively. Her breathing remained slow and even, but Argus knew better than to rush—his mother could wake in an instant if he wasn't careful.
Almost there, he thought, inching himself further toward freedom. He moved with the same focus and precision that he used in his void training. Finally, with one last, careful shift, he was free.
He silently rolled out of bed, leaving Evangeline still sleeping soundly, her dark hair splayed out across the pillows. She murmured something unintelligible as she shifted slightly, but Argus was already across the room, slipping through the door without a sound.
Another victory, he thought with a grin, feeling the thrill of his small success.
By the time he reached the training hall, the playfulness of the morning had been replaced by his usual focus. The rigorous physical exercises began first—running laps, strength training, and stretching his body to its limits before moving into the mental focus required for his void power practice.
Today, the void responded more easily to his commands. It wrapped around his hands, the dark tendrils flowing like liquid as he controlled the shapes with greater precision. He could feel the improvement—each day brought him closer to mastering the power inside him.
Yet, despite the progress, a nagging frustration remained. Control was only half the battle. He wanted more—finer, faster manipulation. The void felt like a muscle he was still learning to flex.
After the training session, he met with Loric for his strategy lesson. They sat together in the study room, maps spread across the table as usual.
"You're getting sharper," Loric said, leaning back in his chair as Argus explained a strategy to outflank an opponent. "You're thinking several steps ahead now—good. Anticipation is key."
Argus nodded, his gaze focused on the diagram. "I still think there's a weakness on the left flank."
"True," Loric acknowledged, tracing the line with his finger. "But that's where you draw them in. It's all about making the enemy believe what they want to see."
Argus absorbed the lesson, appreciating the complexity. He always enjoyed these sessions, the challenge of thinking tactically. But even here, the itch to push further gnawed at him.
His next session with Vernal, however, was less engaging. Politics and negotiation lacked the immediate satisfaction of tactical training. Vernal presented him with case studies of old political negotiations, going over each maneuver in excruciating detail.
"Power isn't only found in battlefields, Argus," Vernal reminded him as they discussed a treaty negotiation. "Words can win wars before a single sword is drawn."
"I understand," Argus said, but his mind was already drifting to his void training. Still, he knew these lessons were necessary, even if they lacked the same thrill.
But the day took a surprising turn when he was introduced to his new tutor—Master Calista.
The moment she entered the room, her blonde hair catching the light, Argus could sense something different about her. Calista wasn't like his other tutors. She carried herself with a kind of excited grace, her every movement brimming with energy as if she couldn't contain her enthusiasm.
"Argus!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth and eagerness. "I'm Master Calista, and I can't wait to get started! Today, we're diving into the world of music."
Argus blinked, momentarily thrown off not just by the word music, but by her entire entrance. Who walked into a room with such intensity, without even a formal greeting? His tutors were always measured, calm, even rigid at times. This was... different.
"Music?" he said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "You seem awfully excited about it."
Calista grinned even wider, undeterred by his tone. "Of course! What's not to be excited about? Music is life, Argus! And I promise, by the end of this, you'll understand why."
Argus raised an eyebrow, more amused than convinced. Compared to the intensity of his usual training, the idea of sitting down and playing music felt... odd. What possible use could it have?
Calista, however, wasn't deterred by the skepticism shown on the boys face. She smiled brightly and led him toward a gleaming piano that sat in the corner of the room. "Yes, music!" she said, her hands gesturing grandly toward the instrument. "This beauty right here will be your companion. Music isn't just sound, Argus—it's a way to express yourself, to connect to something beyond logic and control."
Argus stared at the piano, its smooth black surface reflecting the room's light. He'd never been one to consider the arts in his routine. His world was built on power, strategy, and discipline. What could music offer him?
Calista seemed to sense his hesitation. "I know what you're thinking," she said, her voice softer now, "and I get it. It doesn't seem... important. But trust me, music is about more than just pressing keys. It's about balance, feeling, and letting go."
Argus's skepticism didn't entirely fade, but he followed her lead, sitting down in front of the piano. His hands hovered uncertainly over the keys.
"Go on," Calista encouraged, her voice still light, but with a hint of seriousness. "Play something. Anything. Just feel it."
Argus pressed down a key, the note resonating through the room with a soft clarity. He added another note, then another, building a basic melody. To his surprise, it wasn't difficult. His fingers seemed to instinctively know where to go, producing smooth, harmonious sounds with each press of the keys.
Calista grinned widely. "You're a natural!"
Her enthusiasm was infectious, though Argus didn't quite understand why she was so excited. "It's just a few notes," he said, trying to downplay it. "I haven't done anything special."
"That's where you're wrong," she replied, stepping closer. "It's not about doing something extraordinary—at least, not at first. It's about connection. Each note you play, each sound you make, it's a reflection of what's inside you."
Argus paused, considering her words. He glanced down at the piano, pressing a few more keys, listening to the soft, melodic echoes. The notes were simple, but there was something... calming about them. Something different from the calculated control of his void training.
"You're so used to mastering everything through willpower and discipline," Calista said, watching him intently. "But music... it's about feeling. You can't control it the way you control your powers. You have to let it flow naturally."
"Let it flow?" Argus echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. "But I'm supposed to control things. That's how I train, how I improve."
"Exactly," she said, a playful glint in her eye. "And that's why you need this. You push yourself so hard, Argus—always striving for more, for better. But sometimes, you need to let go. Music is a way to do that. It's a way to find balance."
Argus sat silently for a moment, his fingers resting on the piano keys. He didn't entirely agree with her yet, but there was a small part of him that was intrigued. The idea of not having to control every aspect of something... it was strange, but not entirely unappealing.
"Try playing again," Calista encouraged. "This time, don't think about what sounds right or wrong. Just play what feels right."
Argus hesitated, but then he began to play again. His fingers moved more freely this time, the notes blending together into a soft, soothing melody. There was no structure, no clear direction—but that didn't seem to matter. The sound filled the room, gentle and unhurried.
Calista watched him, her smile widening as she saw the shift in his demeanor. "That's it," she whispered. "Just let it flow."
As the melody continued, Argus felt something he hadn't expected. Peace. The kind of peace that eluded him during his void training or strategic lessons. It was subtle, but undeniable. For the first time in a long while, he wasn't focused on mastering something or achieving a goal—he was simply playing.
When the song ended, the room fell into a quiet stillness. Argus lifted his hands from the piano, glancing up at Calista.
"You see?" she said, her voice softer now. "It's not about control. It's about finding peace in the chaos. And that, Argus, is something everyone needs."
He didn't respond right away, his mind still processing the experience. He wasn't sure he entirely agreed with her yet, but there was no denying that the music had brought him a sense of calm he hadn't expected.
"Maybe," he finally said, his voice low. "Maybe there's something to it."
Calista's grin returned, bright and full of excitement. "That's all I ask! Just give it a chance. You might be surprised by how much you'll come to love it."
That night, long after Calista had left, Argus found himself sitting at the piano again. His fingers moved over the keys, playing the same soft melody he had discovered earlier. The sound filled the quiet room, a gentle reprieve from the intensity of his daily routine.
As the music flowed through him, Argus's thoughts drifted. He could now understand why his mother had assigned a music tutor to him. She had always known what he needed, even before he did. Music wasn't just about sound—it was about letting go, allowing himself to flow freely. And maybe, just maybe, that would help him with his void powers as well.
For now, it was enough to let the music flow.