Mind and Soul

John studied Arcos with a curious intensity, his mind racing with questions. How could this young boy possibly wield Aetherium? It wasn't just rare, it was the kind of power that only a select few even knew existed, let alone could harness. Mortals weren't supposed to touch it. And yet, here was Arcos, standing right in front of him, defying everything John thought he knew.

Arcos glanced up, noticing John's faraway look. "Is everything okay, John?" he asked hesitantly, his voice soft but laced with concern. His expression wavered for a moment before his gaze shifted downward. "Is... is Aetherium bad?" he added, his words trembling with a trace of fear.

The question jolted John from his thoughts. He blinked and focused on the boy's face, taking in the uncertainty in his wide eyes. "No, it's not bad," John said quickly, shaking his head. A warm smile spread across his face, an effort to reassure Arcos. "It's just... really rare. Incredibly rare."

Arcos's shoulders relaxed slightly, but the question still lingered in the air between them. John crouched down to meet the boy's eye level, his tone steady and calm. "It's one of the hardest powers to control," he explained, "but it's also the most unique. Strange, even. If you learn to use it right, it can do things you wouldn't believe."

"Like what?" Arcos asked, a flicker of hope creeping into his voice.

John chuckled softly. "We'll get to that. One step at a time. I'll teach you how to use it, Arcos. The right way. You've got this gift for a reason, and I'll make sure you know how to use it for something good."

Arcos's eyes brightened, a spark of determination igniting within them. "Really? You mean it?"

"Absolutely," John said firmly, placing a hand on Arcos's shoulder. "You've already taken the first step, just by being here. The rest... we'll figure out."

Arcos watched John with a spark of excitement in his eyes, eager for his first lesson. "What will my first task be, Master?" he asked, his gaze wandering to the other children nearby. They were immersed in their training, completing tasks John had given them to grow stronger and refine their control over magic. Arcos longed to join them, to be a part of their world, to make friends.

John glanced at his other students, their laughter and determination filling the air. Then, with a heavy heart, he turned back to Arcos. His expression softened, unsure how to deliver the difficult truth. "Arcos," he began gently, "your training will be different from theirs. It will be more challenging, both physically and mentally. The power you possess… it requires a more demanding path."

Arcos's hopeful smile faltered. His shoulders slumped, and his head tilted down, hiding the disappointment in his eyes. "So, I won't get to train with the others?" he asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Hearing the break in Arcos's voice, John stepped closer and placed firm but reassuring hands on the boy's shoulders. "Arcos, don't let this discourage you," John said, his tone light yet resolute. "You'll still have plenty of opportunities to talk to them, to befriend them. I promise I won't stand in the way of that. But your journey is unique, and it will make you stronger in ways they won't be."

Arcos lifted his head slowly, the sting of disappointment fading into a glimmer of determination. He nodded, his resolve hardening as he thought about why he wanted to grow stronger, to protect others, to prevent more villages from suffering the fate of his own, and yes, to connect with these children he admired. "So, Master," he asked, his voice steady and full of purpose, "what's my first task?"

John smiled faintly, recognizing the resolve in the boy's voice. "We start with your mind and body," he said.

Arcos tilted his head, a curious frown creasing his brow. "My mind?" he repeated, clearly puzzled by the idea.

John nodded, his gaze steady. "Yes, your mind," he said, pausing to let the weight of his words settle. Then, placing a hand over Arcos's chest, John continued, his voice deliberate and calm. "The power you possess, your ability to wield Aetherium, comes from your soul. From the moment you were born, your soul has been bonded to the Aetherium that surrounds you. It's been lying dormant, waiting for the right time to awaken. If you tried to use it now, without preparation, it would be weak, fragile."

Arcos listened intently, his eyes wide with curiosity as John paused, giving him a moment to absorb the explanation. Then, John raised a hand and gently touched Arcos's forehead with a single finger. "But," he continued, "when you train your mind, your power will grow. You see, Aetherium responds to your thoughts and emotions. How you think, how you feel, they shape the strength of your abilities. It can be as feeble as a passing breeze or powerful enough to reshape the world, all depending on your control."

Arcos's heart raced as he tried to grasp the weight of John's words. His hands curled into fists, and he straightened his back. "I understand, Master. I'll train my mind and my body. I'll do whatever it takes," he said, determination radiating from him.

John smiled, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "Good," he said. "Your path will not be easy, Arcos. But if you stay true to your purpose, I have no doubt you'll achieve greatness."

Arcos stood before John, his small frame trembling with anticipation. The older man's stern gaze softened just slightly as he prepared to lay out the challenge. "Alright, Arcos," John began, his voice steady and commanding. "Your first task is this: ten laps around the town, fifty push-ups, one hundred squats, one hundred crunches, and one hour of meditation."

Arcos's eyes widened, his jaw dropping as the list sank in. "Wha-" he stammered, his voice faltering. "Master, I'm only ten years old! That's impossible!" He swallowed hard, the weight of the daunting objective settling in his chest like a stone.

John's lips curled into a faint smile, the kind that hinted at a deeper lesson. "Nothing is impossible," he said simply, his tone carrying both reassurance and an unyielding expectation. He let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, "And it starts now."

Before Arcos could muster a protest, John placed a firm but gentle hand on his back and gave him a small push forward. Arcos stumbled a step, glancing back at his master in disbelief, but John's steady gaze told him there would be no negotiating this task.

Taking a deep breath, Arcos squared his shoulders. "Alright," he muttered under his breath, determination flickering to life in his young eyes. Then, he turned toward the path ahead and started running, each step carrying him closer to what felt impossible, but might just be within reach.

In the heart of the grand chamber, Valion stood before the council, their stern faces shrouded in the flickering light of torches mounted on the stone walls. The air was heavy with tension as they spoke of the man he had encountered, the infamous John. Their words cut deep, each revelation more horrifying than the last.

Valion's legs trembled slightly as the weight of their tale settled on his shoulders. "But... how could one man do such a thing?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, disbelief etched into every syllable.

Zyrenith, the council's strongest Magic user, leaned forward, her gaze hard and unyielding. "Now you understand why we call him a monster," she said, her tone laced with venom. Hatred for John burned in her eyes, cold and unforgiving.

Valion took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. A memory surfaced, vivid and troubling. "There's one more thing I need to mention," he said, his voice faltering slightly. "When I encountered John… he wasn't alone. There was a boy with him, a child, no older than ten." He hesitated, searching their faces for any sign of recognition. "Does that mean anything to you?"

The council exchanged puzzled glances, the weight of his words settling over them. Zyrenith tilted her head, her expression shifting from disdain to curiosity. "A child?" she echoed, her brows knitting together.

"Yes," Valion confirmed. "The boy was crying, sobbing, really. He was clutching two bodies in his arms. John was just standing behind him, watching." His voice wavered, the image still fresh and raw in his mind. "Do you think… do you think John killed the child's parents?"

A murmur rippled through the council. Valebane, the knight, looked at Valion thoughtfully. His voice, when he finally spoke, was calm but heavy. "It's possible," he admitted, his tone grave. "John has shown himself capable of many atrocities." He paused, studying Valion with a measured gaze. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Valion. You may take your leave now."

Valion nodded, his expression a mix of lingering shock and reluctant acceptance. Turning on his heel, he left the chamber. The heavy wooden door creaked as it closed behind him, the sound echoing through the stone corridors.

The guard who had escorted him earlier stepped forward, gesturing silently for Valion to follow. Together, they walked through the dimly lit halls of the castle. Valion's thoughts churned, the council's revelations and the haunting image of the crying child swirling in his mind.

As they reached the castle's grand entrance, the guard halted and opened the door for him. Valion stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of what he had learned pressing heavily on his chest. Somewhere out there, John was still at large, and the truth about the boy remained a mystery.