The Return

Chapter 7: The Return

When I returned to the common area, the room fell into an unnatural silence. The usual murmur of conversation, the soft hum of movement—all of it seemed to vanish the moment I stepped inside. The children, once immersed in their routines, turned their attention toward me.

Some quickly looked away, their eyes darting past me as if to erase what they had seen. But others… others stared.

I moved slowly, feeling the weight of their attention press down on me. They had seen me dragged through here, limp in the staff member's grip. They had seen what happens to those who step out of line. And now, they were seeing me again, standing on my own, having survived the punishment that was meant to break me.

I made my way to a corner of the room, to the spot I had often claimed before. It was distant enough that I could observe without drawing attention, but today, there was no escaping their eyes.

They were watching me—waiting.

I sat down slowly, pulling my knees to my chest. The cold floor seeped into my bones, and my body still ached from the time I had spent in isolation. Days? Weeks? I wasn't sure anymore. Time had blurred into something distant, meaningless. But it didn't matter. I was back.

The whispers came quickly, as I had expected. Soft, but not soft enough.

"Do you think he'll try again?"

"He's reckless."

"What did they do to him?"

The words slipped through the air, weightless but cutting. They didn't need to say more. I heard it all.

I kept my gaze low, not letting them see how much it stung to be the center of their gossip. Instead, I let my thoughts turn inward, toward what really mattered.

The fragments.

Not everyone here had seen them. Only the strongest, those who had shown the most promise, were given that privilege. The fragments weren't just talked about—they were whispered about, discussed in secret by those who had glimpsed them. They were revered. And I understood why.

Because I had come close. So close.

Even though I hadn't been allowed to touch them, to understand their true power, I had felt something. The pull, the energy, the pulse of something waiting to be unlocked. The staff had dragged me away before I could get too close, but I had felt it. The fragments were real, and they held the answers to everything.

The others didn't understand. They hadn't been there. They hadn't felt what I felt. The staff had shown the fragments to only a few—those who had proven their abilities. The ones they favored. The ones who had begun to unlock the power inside themselves. And me? I had been kept on the outside.

The staff thought isolating me would kill my curiosity. They thought locking me away would make me fearful, make me too cautious to step out of line again.

But they were wrong.

I was more determined than ever. I had seen the fragments with my own eyes, had sensed their power. No punishment would stop me from finding out what they really were and unlocking what was inside me.

I glanced up, scanning the room. Most of the children had returned to their routines, but a few still threw curious glances my way. Among them was the older boy with the sharp features—the one who had already started to unlock his abilities. He had seen the fragments, that much I was sure of. He was one of the few the staff had deemed worthy.

His attention shifted toward me, and our eyes met. He didn't look away.

There was something in his gaze—something beyond curiosity. He knew more than he let on. He had seen more than the others.

I held his gaze for a moment, careful not to draw attention to our silent exchange. He didn't try to hide the fact that he was watching me. It was deliberate, almost like a challenge.

Finally, he gave me the smallest of nods. It wasn't approval or acknowledgment—it was something more subtle. A signal. A recognition that I couldn't yet fully understand.

Then he turned back to the glowing light he held in his palm, the energy shifting and bending to his will as if it were an extension of his body.

I watched him for a moment longer, frustration twisting inside me. Why couldn't I do that? The other children were growing stronger by the day, their abilities more controlled, more powerful. And I… I was still waiting.

The fragments were the answer. They had to be. The staff had said that the fragments held the key to unlocking our abilities, to understanding the true nature of the power we carried. But only the strongest had access to them.

And I wasn't one of them. Not yet.

But I would be. I had to be.

I knew the staff were watching me more closely now, their eyes tracking every move I made. I had crossed a line, and they wouldn't forget it. They saw me as a risk now. A potential threat to their control.

I had to be smarter this time. More careful.

I couldn't afford to make the same mistake again.

As the hours passed, the room gradually returned to its usual rhythm. The children moved in small groups, practicing their abilities or speaking in hushed tones. I remained in my corner, my mind racing, turning over everything I had learned, everything I had seen.

I couldn't rush this. Not like before.

I needed a plan.

My thoughts drifted back to the fragments, to the way they had pulsed with energy when I had stepped into that room. I had been so close to touching them, to understanding them. But the staff had pulled me away before I could reach out, before I could know what they truly were.

Why?

What were they hiding from me?

The other children hadn't mentioned the fragments recently, but I knew they hadn't forgotten. The older ones—the ones the staff favored—still spoke of them when they thought no one was listening. I had overheard their whispers, caught fragments of their conversations.

They knew more than they let on.

But how could I get them to share it with me? How could I get closer to the fragments without drawing the attention of the staff?

The older boy continued practicing, the light in his palm flickering softly as it responded to his every movement. He had to know something. He had seen the fragments, felt their power. He had to understand what they were for.

Maybe… maybe I could find a way to learn from him. But not yet.

The staff were still watching. I couldn't risk drawing any more attention to myself. Not until I had a solid plan.

For now, I would wait. I would watch. I would learn.

And when the time came, I would be ready.