"What's a calix?" Aiden asked, his curiosity piqued. The idea of being more than just a helpless boy trapped in a mansion—being part of something larger—was oddly compelling, though he wasn't sure why.
"Oh, right!" Lucius said, drawing closer. "We forgot to mention that."
"Riven, you're the scholar," Caelum added, flying to the side. "You take the lead."
Riven hovered near the top of the veranda, his form flickering. "A calix... is a mortal born with the ability to wield the power of the gods," he began. "In ancient times, when an immortal perished in the mortal realm, a calix would be born to collect and store the power that spilled over from the immortal's essence. That way, it wouldn't disrupt the balance of the mortal realm." He glanced at Aiden. "The witch believes you're a calix—basically, a chalice for gods."
"A chalice?" Aiden frowned. "A chalice that holds a dead god's leftover power?"
Lucius bobbed in agreement. "That's what she thinks. But we have some doubts... Well, we think she's only partially right."
Aiden tilted his head, a little more confused. "Doubts? What doubts?"
Riven shifted, his glow dimming. "When did you realize you were a calix?"
"Yesterday, Or... three days ago?"
Riven nodded, a little hesitant. "A true calix would know their role from birth. They're born with a single purpose: to serve the gods. The gods would speak to them in dreams, but you... haven't had that, have you?"
"We have a theory," Lucius said, his tone growing serious. "Let's show you. Caelum, take your spot."
"Right," Caelum replied, drifting to the other side of the veranda.
Lucius cleared his throat dramatically, preparing for his demonstration. "Oh, Great Whoever You May Be!" he called out in a deep, theatrical voice. "Another immortal has fallen in the mortal realm!"
"Tragic!" Caelum replied, feigning concern, but keeping their lame play going, "Alright, Another Whoever, you know what to do. Send a calix down!"
Lucius nodded gravely. "Fret not, Great One! We've already blessed a newborn as a calix."
"Marvelous! I'll check on it right away."
Caelum zoomed around the veranda, darting in and out of the scene. When he stopped over Aiden, he looked down. "Nope! This one's an idiot. Find another!"
Aiden's face was unreadable, though he was clearly less than impressed.
"But, Great Being!" Lucius cried. "We've already assigned the blessing. We can't just take it back!"
Caelum waved him off. "Then sever his meridians! Who cares if he's useless for life?"
"And... scene," Lucius said, dipping in mock reverence.
Caelum returned to the center. "That's our theory. Maybe some god messed up. Had to retract your blessing and sever your meridians."
Aiden stared blankly at the wisps. He didn't know what to think. The whole thing felt... almost laughable.
"So," he said, his voice quiet, "I was a mistake?"
It wasn't really a shock. It made sense, in a way, with how things had always gone for him. He'd dealt with disappointment so much in his life that hearing he was some sort of cosmic error didn't hit him hard. Typical, he thought. Just another misfortune.
The wisps fell quiet, sensing his confusion.
"You can't say that," Caelum said, his voice a little softer. "It was just... a theory, really. Lucius could be wrong. Maybe you were born a calix, but something went wrong."
Riven flickered closer. "Even if you're not a calix, you're still built like one. And we can make use of that. Severed meridians aren't beyond repair."
Lucius nodded, his light flickering with enthusiasm. "Look at the bright side. It's like getting a free pass."
Aiden raised an eyebrow. "A free pass?"
"Yeah," Riven said. "Your meridians were severed, but you can still channel celestial power. Better than being a calix, because no god's ordering you around."
Aiden let out a dry laugh. "Right. No gods bossing me around."
Caelum grinned. "Exactly! It's like being a knight with a sword but no mission. You can do whatever you want with that sword. Screw the mission."
Riven flared a bright red, warning Caelum to be more careful with his words.
"That's... one way to put it," Lucius said, his tone dry.
Aiden leaned on the balustrade, rubbing his chin. "So, all this trouble, and for nothing? Every time I try to cast a spell for class, I get beaten to a pulp. Then I'm powerless again and get punched all over again."
"Sounds fun," Caelum muttered.
"It's not totally useless," Riven said. "Now that we know you might be a calix, there are ways to absorb essence without the beatings."
Aiden's eyes brightened, as did Lucius and Caelum's.
"Really?" they asked in unison.
Riven flickered a dull green. "I'm not sure it will work, but some mortals practice a martial art that allows them to absorb energy from their surroundings. It's called Tai chi."
"Tai chi?" Aiden murmured, intrigued. "I didn't know it worked like that."
"It wouldn't work if you were an ordinary mortal," Riven said. "But with the celestial energy flooding the mortal realm, you could absorb it."
Aiden stared at his fingers, focusing on the energy around him. He closed his eyes, trying to sense something, anything. But nothing. Not even the faintest spark.
Riven sighed. "Nope. You can't do it alone. We'll find you a master."
Aiden nodded slowly. "Okay. But... with what? We don't exactly have anything to offer."
He unzipped his backpack and showed them the contents: a half-eaten chicken leg, some stale bread, and a stinky handkerchief.
Lucius sighed. "Right. A penniless boy in a mansion."
"Money's not a problem!" Caelum said. "I saw some fancy vases in the hallway—"
Riven shut him down with a sharp flare.
"We'll find you a master first," Riven said firmly. "Then we'll figure out what they want."
Aiden raised an eyebrow, skeptical. He wanted to tell them that the mortal world wasn't like their realm, that money mattered here, but he decided to keep quiet. He'd heard enough.
"I guess we'll see," Aiden muttered, still unsure about everything, but feeling slightly more hopeful.