Deeper Truth

The room grew heavier with silence, the crackling of the lantern's flame the only sound as Medas took a deep breath. His gaze remained on Morvane, his tone soft but resolute.

"Morvane," he began, "what happened to you just now... it's not the first time I've seen something like this."

The others turned to him, their curiosity evident.

Medas's expression darkened as he continued, "It's exactly what happened to Hiraya."

At the mention of Hiraya, Luna and Esmael exchanged concerned glances. Morvane, still pale and shaken, looked confused. "Hiraya?"

Medas nodded. "I told you about her before, didn't I? Like you, she was markless during her Awakening. We all thought she was powerless. But then she discovered her ability to see spirits. At first, it seemed harmless. She was overjoyed to have something, anything, that set her apart. But her gift... it wasn't a blessing."

He paused, the memory clearly weighing on him. "The spirits she saw began to corrupt her. They whispered to her, manipulated her, slowly turning her against everyone around her. And eventually... they consumed her. It led to her death."

Morvane's breath hitched, his hands clenching into fists on the table. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don't want you to have the same destiny," Medas said firmly. His eyes softened, but his voice carried a note of warning. "You're different, Morvane. Whatever power you have, it's unlike anything we've seen. That's why I gave you the necklace—to protect you from yourself. But now that it's gone, you're vulnerable. And the more your power grows, the more dangerous it becomes."

Luna interjected, her voice filled with concern. "But there has to be a way to control it, right? Something we can do to help him?"

Medas hesitated, glancing at the unconscious Morvane and then at the group. "There may be a way. But it won't be easy. And it will require all of us to face truths we may not be ready for."

Esmael leaned back, his arms crossed. "We're already in this deep. Might as well see it through."

Morvane swallowed hard, his mind racing with questions and fears. "What do I have to do?"

Medas gave him a somber look. "For now, you need to rest and recover. But soon, we'll need to seek out the origin of your power. The answers lie in your past, Morvane—perhaps even before your Awakening."

A few days passed quietly. Crimson had returned to his kingdom, and with his departure, Morvane's training had come to a halt. The once lively days filled with practice and camaraderie now felt distant, leaving Morvane alone with his thoughts.

Morvane remained in his room, just as Medas had instructed, wary of wandering outside. The fear of encountering another spirit—or worse, being possessed again—kept him confined. He hadn't even visited his grandmother since the incident, a fact that weighed heavily on his mind.

The midday sun filtered through the small window of his room when Medas entered, his expression a mixture of concern and resolve.

"How are you feeling, Morvane?" Medas asked, closing the door behind him.

Morvane sat up on his bed, forcing a small smile. "I'm fine... I guess. My body feels great. The pain's gone completely, thanks to Grandma's healing." He hesitated, lowering his gaze. "But... I feel a little sad."

Medas took a seat on the chair by the window, studying him. "Sad? Why's that?"

Morvane sighed, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. "I haven't seen Grandma in days. I've been stuck here. And... it's just lonely. I feel like... I don't know who I am anymore."

Medas nodded slowly, his face softening. "I understand. It's a lot to take in. What happened to you... it's not something most people could endure."

Morvane leaned back, his gaze distant. "I keep thinking about what you said—about Hiraya. About how her power destroyed her. Am I going to end up like that?"

Medas looked at him intently, his voice steady. "Not if I can help it. But it's up to you, too, Morvane. You have to stay strong, even when it feels like the world is against you."

The conversation lulled for a moment, silence filling the space between them. Then Medas leaned forward, his tone more serious. "Speaking of Hiraya... do you still see her?"

Morvane blinked, caught off guard by the question. "See her?"

Medas nodded. "Yes. Anywhere in the house? In your dreams? Or around you at all?"

Morvane hesitated, his brows furrowing as he thought back. "No," he said slowly. "Back then, she was the only spirit I could see. She was always in my visions, like a shadow that never left. But now... no. I haven't seen her since—" He stopped, his words hanging in the air.

"Since what?" Medas pressed gently.

Morvane swallowed hard. "Since the first training. It's like... she disappeared when everything started. I don't know why."

Medas's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "That's interesting. Very interesting."

Morvane tilted his head. "Why? What does it mean?"

Medas didn't answer immediately, instead rising from the chair and pacing the room. "It means there's more to this than we thought. Hiraya might've been a spirit connected to your power in some way. Her disappearance could be a sign... or a warning."

Morvane's chest tightened at the words. "A warning? About what?"

Medas stopped pacing and looked at him seriously. "I don't know yet. But we'll find out, Morvane. I promise you that."

The stillness of the night enveloped the house. The faint sound of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves outside created an eerie calm. Morvane lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Midnight had long passed, but sleep eluded him.

The room suddenly grew colder, and a chilling breeze swept through. Morvane shivered, pulling his blanket tighter around him. His eyes shifted to the window—it was open.

Frowning, he got up and crossed the room, intending to close it. But as he reached the window, he stopped.

In the garden below, bathed in the pale glow of moonlight, he saw a girl. She was crouched among the flowers, her hands delicately plucking them one by one.

Morvane's breath hitched. He knew her instantly. "Hiraya..." he whispered.

Unlike before, when her presence unnerved him, he felt no fear now. Instead, a sense of calm washed over him. Without hesitation, he called out, "Hiraya. Hiraya!"

The girl paused but didn't look up.

Morvane climbed out of the window, careful not to make too much noise, and approached her in the garden. Her ethereal form glowed faintly, making her seem both real and unreal at the same time.

"Hiraya," he said softly, standing a few feet away. "I know you're a good spirit. I've seen you so many times, and yet you never tried to possess me."

She continued plucking flowers, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Can I ask you something?" Morvane asked, his voice hesitant. "May I know the curse that's been given to us?"

At this, Hiraya stopped. Her hands froze mid-motion, clutching a flower. After a long silence, she finally spoke. Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper carried by the wind. "Curse?" she repeated. "It is not a curse. It is a gift."

Morvane frowned, confused. "A gift? What do you mean?"

Hiraya's hands trembled as she held the flower. "It was given by another god," she said, her tone distant.

Morvane took a step closer. "I want to know more. About you, about our power... and what happened to you."

Hiraya stood up slowly but didn't turn to face him. Her voice wavered as she spoke. "I can't... tell you everything."

"Why not?" Morvane asked, his tone pleading.

Her head tilted slightly, as if struggling to say something. "Some—" Her voice suddenly cut off, and she clutched her throat as though it had been seized by an invisible force.

"Hiraya?" Morvane's heart raced.

She lowered her hand and tried to speak again, her voice strained. "I died."

The words sent a chill through Morvane.

Hiraya turned around then, her eyes meeting his for the first time. They were filled with sorrow and an unspoken truth. "I was k—" she began, but her throat locked again, and she gasped as if the air had been stolen from her.

"Say it!" Morvane shouted. "Why can't you say it? What happened to you?"

Hiraya's form began to fade, her edges dissolving into the night air. She reached out a hand, as if trying to hold onto something, but her body flickered like a dying flame.

"Hiraya!" Morvane called, desperation in his voice.

But she disappeared completely, leaving him alone gasping for answers.

.

The first light of morning filtered through the curtains as Morvane stirred from restless sleep. The memory of Hiraya's words haunted him, echoing in his mind. He couldn't shake the sense of mystery surrounding her, nor could he ignore the questions piling up about his own powers.

Determined to distract himself and find answers, he decided to visit the Rotmyal Library. He hoped to pass the time by reading, learning more about powers, spirits, and whatever else might help him understand his situation.

As he entered the grand library, the scent of aged paper and ink greeted him. Shelves stretched endlessly, filled with books on every subject imaginable. He wandered aimlessly at first, letting his eyes scan the spines of dusty tomes.

But then, something caught his attention.

On the far wall, hanging prominently, was a portrait of Hiraya. She looked serene, her youthful face frozen in a moment of peace. Her eyes seemed to follow him, as though the painting itself was alive.

Morvane froze, his breath hitching. He whispered to himself, "What really happened to you?"

As if in response to his words, a sudden flutter of wings startled him. A dove had flown in through an open window, circling the room before it veered toward Hiraya's portrait.

The bird struck the frame with a loud thud, and the painting fell from the wall. The crash echoed through the quiet library as the glass frame shattered upon hitting the floor.

Morvane rushed forward, his heart racing. The bird had already flown off, leaving him alone with the fallen portrait. Kneeling down, he carefully picked it up, brushing away shards of glass.

It was then that he noticed something unusual. On the back of the painting were intricate symbols he didn't recognize, etched in faded ink. They seemed almost alive, glowing faintly as he tilted the frame.

His fingers brushed against a small bundle of papers tucked behind the canvas. Letters. They looked old, the edges yellowed and worn.

Curiosity burned in him as he unfolded one of the letters. The handwriting was elegant but hurried, as though written in desperation. His eyes scanned the first few lines, and what he read left him stunned.

The letter spoke of betrayal, secrets, and the "gift" that Hiraya mentioned. It hinted at forbidden rituals, a god's intervention, and a warning: "The markless are not what they seem. Their power is not a curse but a weapon... one that can destroy the gods themselves."

Morvane's hands trembled, his mind reeling from the implications. What did this mean? How was Hiraya involved? And what was his connection to all of this?

As he read further, more questions began to surface, each more troubling than the last.