Chapter 14: A lesson of Magic

Leiya wailed as if she had seen a creature from a nightmare. "A phoenix? Mum, do you even know what you're saying?"

Aemon nodded, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes at the realisation of what the egg truly contained. "She's not lying, Leiya. Your mother has explored countless theories, and even if it isn't a phoenix, it is something on the level of an ancient beast."

Leiya glanced at Xerxes, then at Aemon. His face was unreadable, deadpan. There was no doubt in his mind that Xerxes had encountered such a creature. Leiya, however, struggled to believe it. Xerxes was scrawny, wimpy, and, most of all, quite lame.

The Seer of the City of Truth interrupted their reactions. "Yes, let us all quiver in shock. It is indeed unexpected that Xerxes has acquired such a thing. But this is reality, and we must adjust accordingly. I will begin devising a way for him to control that power. First, however, we must ensure the vessel is both sizable and durable enough to contain it. That will be our first task."

He tapped his hands on the table before standing, his voice filling the room with authority. "Truth family, it is time to move forward, to prepare for the future, and to ready Xerxes Draedon for his path ahead. Stand and begin!"

The rest of the table stood, bowing their head ever so slightly to Aemon. Xerxes awkwardly stood up after the call to the 'Truth' family and bowed his head.

Every member of the family departed off in their own direction, as Aemon remained in the room, Xerxes staying there as well.

To Xerxes, it was all happening too fast—waking from his 'death,' arriving in Truth City, and now being the bearer of some ancient beast. Yet, despite the relentless pace, he was ready for it.

There was no other choice but to be ready because at this point, time was not something he could bask in so leisurely.

The clock was ticking and Aya, Dorian. Everyone, for that matter. Everyone needed to know he was alive and that he would come back to them.

Aemon waited until the room had cleared before leaning back against the wall. His voice was calm but firm. "Magic. Tell me what you know about it."

Xerxes took a moment to think. What is magic? What did he really know? Magic existed in the atmosphere, and people could harness it within their bodies. Strength was categorised into tiers, ranging from Tier 6 to Tier 1. That was it, right?

He repeated his thoughts aloud. With each statement, Aemon merely nodded.

"Okay," Aemon said finally. "So you know as much as Leiya did when she was three. We're off to an amazing start, don't you think?"

The condescension in Aemon's voice stung. Am I really that ignorant? Xerxes was about to protest, but Aemon cut him off.

"It was a rhetorical question, boy. Do not fret. I have taught people far less knowledgeable than you—and far more. So, let me explain."

"Magic is an abundant state of matter that exists everywhere. It is drawn from nature's core foundation, taking the form of wind, water, fire, or earth. This energy is absorbed through the soul core and channelled via the manacule system.

"Mana starts as 'unnatured mana' within the atmosphere. When it passes through the manacule system, it becomes 'natured mana.' We release it through six key mana points—two at the wrists leading to the palms, two at the ankles extending to the heels, one in the sternum, and one in the brain.

"The hands are the most common point of release. The feet enhance speed, the sternum amplifies overall physical power, and the brain sharpens cognitive abilities—things like reaction time and thinking speed. However, mages rarely use the brain's mana point, as overuse can be lethal."

"There are other forms of mana, unique to bloodlines, and even rarer elements beyond the basics. But for now, I won't burden you with that knowledge."

"The most common way to increase one's strength is through training. However, we can also advance by absorbing 'soul shards.' These are obtained from beasts and can be fused into our soul core, strengthening it and accelerating progression to the next tier."

Xerxes hesitated, a question forming in his mind—one he wasn't sure he wanted answered. It unsettled him, but if ever there was a time to ask, it was now.

"You say beasts drop soul shards, and we absorb them. But... can't we drop them too? What's stopping people from taking them from each other?"

Aemon's expression darkened. Memories surfaced—painful, buried deep—but he forced them down, shaking his head. His answer came as a single word.

"Morality."

"Morality?" Xerxes echoed. "That makes sense. Otherwise, we'd see murder after murder for them. But I'd never dream of doing something so vile. The thought of people killing for power—it's disgusting. Surely there must be other ways. Don't you agree, Aemon?"

Aemon shook his head. "For some people, greed clouds their judgment. Put it like this: there's a peasant who's observed the wealthy man's gold, his way of life, his influence and all of his attributes. No amount of trade or toil has helped this man, though it has worked for the wealthy man."

"Intrinsically, he knows he could take it, he knows that it's easy to have a body in the dirt and a knife hidden in the dark, but there's a voice, a voice beckoning within him 'that it is wrong. ' That is what separates us from man and monster. The man will acknowledge the voice but not act on it, but the monster heeds the voice's advice.

"There are two people in the world. One that will sacrifice morality for power, and one's who sacrifice power for morality."

Aemon's words struck a chord. Xerxes turned them over in his mind, picturing the future he envisioned.

Will there come a day when I understand sacrificing morality for power? I don't want that. I can't see myself ever needing to. Because I want those I love to stand beside me when I become strong.

"Thank you, Aemon," Xerxes said at last. "This may sound pretentious, but... I get the sense you're speaking from experience. I want you to know that, in the time you'll come to know me, I value morality over power. I always have."

"Aya and Dorian value strength, and I am happy they do, but I have a different perception of power. Power isn't held in one person, but it's shared collectively, and what I want to do is something different. "

"It's never been about winning, it's about creating a symbol, a symbol that inspires others to carry on a flame that I only came to know when I felt the warmth and the security of my party, the embered flame. So that's it. I am working to be a symbol that can inspire everyone's strength and approach to life. "

Aemon truly admired that aspiration and could respect it. It was a new perspective to Aemon; Xerxes' goal was simplistic, but it was also unique. He couldn't place a finger on it, but Aemon had a feeling that Xerxes could do what he dreamed to accomplish.

"You're inspiring. I will give you that, Xerxes, but I hope you took in what I told you about magic!" He scolded. Xerxes jumped slightly at Aemon's sudden change of tone, but he nodded affirmatively, indicating that he did.

"Yes, Aemon, it's great how much you know and how much I've learnt in a few minutes and thank you for helping me. So when do we start? Do you have a training ground for magic?"

Aemon smirked. "You're new to this, aren't you? The Truth family values speed and efficiency. So let me ask you—what makes you think your training hasn't already started?"

Aemon's hand ignited like molten steel, mana bubbling from his wrist and coiling around his fingertips. Fire wrapped around his arm, burning bright.

Xerxes stared into the fire, and his heart was pounding. Dancing in the flames was a painful reminder of his defeat. The memory of the mana beast clawed at his mind, each moment replaying like a cursed lullaby.

But that wasn't what sent fear through his veins—it was Aemon. The way he stood, unshaken and expressionless, colder than the winds of Layne. His entire character had shifted.

There was no fury, no hesitation—just the eyes of someone who saw this as mundane. For the first time, Xerxes realised that terror wasn't found in fangs or claws.

It was in a man who could take a life and feel nothing at all.

Xerxes raised his mana, ready to contest, and then Aemon released the plethora of magic. Xerxes' training had begun.