"That time..." Arakh began recounting his experience, from the end of his match with Lorelai to his return to the village.
Arakh looked up and saw Lorelai's lips parted in utter disbelief. With a wry smile, he snorted, "I told you it's hard to believe," he darted his glance to his own palm. "Even for me."
Lorelai closed her lips. "That is an incredible story, but the follow-up after that event fits the puzzle. Hayam's injured arm back then, Reikh's astonishing change of attitude. For eleven-year-olds, that must have been traumatic."
"But I've heard from Old Gir that they are doing fine," Arakh nodded and crossed his arms with a proud smile, "I'm proud of them making a name for themselves."
Lorelai frowned as he looked at Arakh's body up and down, "But that doesn't explain, why your body is still the same as an eleven-year-old?"
Arakh jerked his shoulders. "You and me both, Lorelai. It's not like I want this either. For me, it was a year passed, but it turns out that it has been ten years."
"I have to believe it, I suppose," Lorelai sighed, her tone laced with reluctant acceptance. "Still, this Darath Anubis you speak of—I've never come across that name in any history books or heard it whispered by even the wisest of gray-bearded scholars."
"I know, right? I'm supposed to be his successor," Arakh said, flopping onto his bed with his hands tucked behind his head. "And I don't even know who he is."
"Though, I could guess what rank he is," said Lorelai.
"Hmm?" Arakh bounced back up. "He must be a Master Resonator at least."
Lorelai shook her head, "That's impossible, a Master Resonator will not be able to bend time like that, and as well, all the element presence was in the mechanism of the altar."
"Oh man, is it the elusive Saint Resonator?" Arakh trembled as his heart skipped a beat. "Even the king will have to show respect for those people! And I'm the successor of one?" he grinned from ear to ear.
"I've met a Saint Resonator before," Lorelai said, her voice carrying an uncharacteristic tone of reverence. "She was unlike anyone I had ever encountered—her mere presence felt like standing in the eye of a storm, calm yet overwhelmingly powerful. Her prowess was beyond anything I could imagine, and for the first time in my life, I felt truly... small. It was as though every fiber of my being knew I couldn't reach her level, no matter how far I pushed myself."
"Woah," Arakh murmured, his eyes widening as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. For a moment, he simply stared, his brain working to process the idea. Lorelai—sharp, confident, always untouchable—admitting she was inadequate? He never thought he'd live to see the day. He didn't blink, almost as if doing so might shatter the fragile truth hanging in the air.
"But I have asked her," Lorelai leaned her back on the door. "'What are the limitations for a Saint Resonator'"
"Limitation?" Arakh pondered. Do Saint Resonators even have limitations?
Lorelai nodded, "I thought so as well, but, it seems another boundary for the next rank exists."
"Another boundary, you mean, Saint Resonator is not the peak rank?" Arakh gulped.
"They call it the mythical rank, Divine Resonator," Lorelai said. "However, I asked her if she ever met one, and she shook her head."
"You mean..." Arakh gulped. "Darath Anubis, is a Divine Resonator?"
"I have a hunch that he is," said Lorelai. "He created an altar that dilutes time itself, I doubt a Saint Resonator could create a realm like that, and if someone hunts him down, it must mean that this Croix fella is also a Divine Resonator."
Arakh gulped the last of his saliva, "This seems... rather dangerous don't you think?"
"Indeed," Lorelai nodded, "A Saint Resonator could flatten Elabra, however, a Divine Resonator?"
I couldn't swallow any more saliva.
"The entirety of the Kingdom of Pasrih most likely," Lorelai's eyes sharpened. "Its existence will change the dynamic of any land, any structure, any system, or even resonance itself."
"The power to destroy a kingdom," Arakh muttered. "It sounds evil."
"Divine Resonator…" Arakh's voice trailed off, the words heavy in his mouth. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. A pit formed in his stomach as the implications settled in. How was he, of all people, supposed to measure up to that?
"Perhaps," Lorelai sighed, "But you need to experience life more, you are still, effectively, an eleven-year-old."
Arakh chuckled, "Yes, yes, Master Lorelai."
"Hmph!" Lorelai waved her hand and a gust of wind flapped his cheeks and eyelids.
"Ugh," That was chilling and fun at the same time.
"Let me take a look at the book," Lorelai picked up his bag and the codex fell on the bed.
"Be my guest," said Arakh.
The moment Lorelai touched the codex, a strange force rippled through her fingertips, making her recoil. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught in her throat. It wasn't just rejecting her—it was as though it didn't even acknowledge her presence, an insult to her very existence as a Resonator.
"What's wrong?" Arakh asked.
Lorelai paid no heed to the concerning Arakh and opened the codex. Her eyes bewildered, she turned the page, then again, then again, before furiously flipping a bunch of them at once.
"Hey, hey, hey! Treat it with care!" said Arakh taking the book from her, and embraced it like it was his baby.
Lorelai put her hands on her hips, "What's wrong with you? Those pages are empty!"
"What?" Arakh panicked and opened the book. His eyes looked up and down and the words were there. "What are you talking about?"
"It's empty," Lorelai said tapping at the page.
"It's right there, Lorelai," said Arakh tracing a sentence in the book with his finger.
Lorelai squinted yet no fonts ever emerged in her eyes, and then she raised her brows. "I see."
"See, I told you," said Arakh crossing his arms
"It seems that you are the only one who could read it," said Lorelai.
"What?" he turned the pages again and it was still beautifully written. "But that's impossible, it's right there."
"Perhaps that also explains your golden eyes," Lorelai sighed, "You are the chosen successor, perhaps the only successor of Darath Anubis."
"I... Perhaps I am," Arakh gently closed the book. I never thought that I was the only one who could read it. But what causes it? Is it because I was the one who passed the test? Well, technically I pass that test through a hack, but even so...
Lorelai's eyes twitched as her face was gently welcomed by the shimmer of twilight from the sun through the window. She put one hand on her hip and said sternly, "Rest for now Arakh, you are a student of the Elabra Academy now, and don't call me by my name! Call me Master Lorelai."
"Y-Yes, Master Lorelai," Gods! That felt weird.
"I hope you're not as slacking as ten years ago, the class starts at eight tomorrow," said Lorelai before unlocking the door and leaving the key hanging.
"R-Right," the door slammed shut and the wind fluttered his hair. Damn, she could have been softer.
Arakh hit the bed with a soft thud, his hands sliding under the pillow as he settled in. He stared at the ceiling, the faint glow of twilight spilling through the window and casting long, soft shadows across the room. His golden eyes traced the uneven patterns on the stone above, and a rare sense of calm washed over him.
It's so... peaceful, he thought, the tension in his body easing for the first time in what felt like years—or perhaps, decades. The stillness of the moment felt foreign, almost surreal after everything he'd been through.
For the first time, he allowed himself to relax, his lips curling into a faint, almost unnoticeable smile.
---
Meanwhile, Lorelai strode through the dimly lit corridors of the academy, her cloak flowing behind her like a shadow. The echoes of her boots striking the stone floor filled the silence, each step measured, purposeful. Her expression was unreadable, though her thoughts churned like a storm beneath the surface.
The students she passed quickly stepped aside, their murmurs barely audible but ever-present.
"Master Lorelai seems tense..."
"Do you think it's about that boy?"
"She never brings anyone to the dorms herself."
She ignored them, her sharp gaze fixed straight ahead. The truth was, her mind wasn't on their whispers or their curious stares.
She reached her room, the door standing at the end of a quiet hallway. With a quick flick of her wrist, the lock clicked open, and she stepped inside. The room was as she had left it: neat, orderly, and devoid of any personal touches save for a small shelf of books and a single framed portrait tucked discreetly on her desk.
Closing the door behind her, Lorelai leaned against it for a moment, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She pinched the bridge of her nose, her brows furrowing as she replayed the encounter in her mind.
"Arakh Xei," she murmured to herself, the name tasting foreign on her tongue. Ten years ago, it had been a name associated with an active boy and yet, the person she had just met felt... different. Familiar, but also unrecognizable.
Lorelai's gaze drifted toward the unfolded letter resting on her desk, the elegant script staring back at her like an unspoken challenge. The handwriting was unmistakable—neat yet stern, the kind that commanded attention with every stroke.
She let out a quiet sigh, her fingers brushing over the edges of the parchment. The weight of the words written there felt heavier than the paper itself, carrying expectations and obligations she had tried to set aside for the evening.
The quill in her hand hovered over a blank sheet for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. The scratching of the nib against the parchment soon filled the room, a steady rhythm of precision and purpose.