Chapter 9: The Void Core and Its Creation

Elias woke to the sensation of warmth radiating from his chest. It was unusual—not the warmth of life and vitality, but something deeper, something alien. His body felt sluggish, heavier than usual, as though he had been submerged in thick, unyielding water. 

The faint glow of soft candlelight flickered around the room, casting long shadows across rough-hewn wooden walls. The scent of herbs lingered—sharp, earthy, and slightly bitter. His breathing was shallow, and every breath brought a new awareness of the aches that riddled his battered form. 

His fingers twitched reflexively, brushing against the rough texture of a blanket. He realized slowly that he was lying in a room he didn't recognize. The bed beneath him was firm but surprisingly comfortable, crafted from woven reeds and packed cloth. He turned his head—or tried to; the stiffness in his neck made moving difficult. 

"Don't push yourself," a voice said, startling him. 

Elias blinked and looked toward the source of the voice. Lyara, the woman he vaguely remembered seeing before he passed out, was seated on a low stool near the window. Her arms were crossed, and her piercing gaze was fixed on him. She looked like she had been watching him for hours. 

His voice came out hoarse when he tried to speak. "Where… am I?" 

"Ashen Veil," Lyara said simply, standing and approaching the bedside. "Our village. You were brought here after the Ashbeast fight." She paused before adding, "You're lucky to be alive." 

Elias groaned, his memory hazy but slowly piecing itself together. He recalled the towering Void-corrupted beast, its glowing red eyes and relentless ferocity. He remembered pushing himself to the brink to defeat it – and the Void energy coursing through him, barely kept in check. 

"That thing…" Elias rasped. "The Ashbeast. Did I kill it?" 

Lyara nodded. "You did. But you paid the price for it. Your body was… unstable when we found you. Void energy was ripping through you like a storm. Elder Caedric had to work quickly to stabilize you." 

"Stabilize me?" Elias frowned, the words leaving a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What does that mean?" 

Before Lyara could answer, the door creaked open, and an older man stepped inside. He had the presence of someone who commanded respect without asking for it. His simple robes were decorated with subtle, intricate embroidery that glimmered faintly—the work of Aether artisans, no doubt. His face was weathered but calm, his eyes sharp and scrutinizing as they fixed on Elias. 

"You're awake," the man said, his tone more of an observation than a question. He approached the bedside with deliberate slowness, his hands clasped behind his back. 

Elias met his gaze. "I assume you're Elder Caedric." 

The elder nodded. "And you are Elias Varian—the young man who carries the Void but has not yet been consumed by it." 

The way he said it was unnerving, as though he already knew far more about Elias than he should. 

"Lyara said you stabilized me," Elias said cautiously. "What did that involve?" 

Caedric seated himself in a chair beside the bed, his expression measured. "Void energy is not something we take lightly here in Ashen Veil. It is a force unlike Aether—a force of absence, hunger, and destruction. When we found you, that energy had overwhelmed your body. Without intervention, you would have been consumed." 

Elias's fingers curled into the blanket. "What kind of 'intervention'?" 

"I crafted a Void Core within you," Caedric said bluntly. 

The silence that followed was deafening. 

"You… *what*?" Elias said, his voice filled with disbelief. 

Lyara spoke up, shifting uncomfortably. "It wasn't optional. Your body was tearing itself apart. Without a conduit to contain the Void energy, you wouldn't have lasted another hour." 

Caedric raised a hand to forestall further questions. "Let me explain. Humans—your kind—do not possess Aether Cores like Elysians do. Your magic is channeled externally, through tools and techniques. But the Void does not tolerate such methods—it requires an anchor, a vessel to stabilize it. Without that, it devours indiscriminately." 

Elias stared at him, his mind racing. "So you… put a Core inside me? How?" 

"It was no simple feat," Caedric admitted, his tone calm but edged with gravity. "I have spent decades studying how Aether and Void interact. The two forces are opposites, and in their opposition, there is a kind of balance—like fire and wind. I used that balance to fashion a temporary Core within you. It acts as a container, holding the Void energy inside you in check." 

He gestured toward Elias's chest. "But it comes with consequences." 

Elias pressed a hand to his sternum, where the faint warmth he had felt earlier now made sense. He could almost feel it—a pulsing presence deep within, like a faintly beating heart. 

"What kind of consequences?" he asked warily. 

"The Core is artificial," Caedric explained. "It is not like those of Elysians, who are born with Aether Cores that grow and adapt with them. Yours will weaken over time if you overextend it—if you draw too much Void energy or use it recklessly." 

Lyara interjected, her tone matter-of-fact. "Every time you use Void abilities, the Core's stability is strained. You'll feel pain, exhaustion, and in worse cases… the Core may fracture." 

"And if it fractures?" Elias prompted. 

"You will die," Caedric said bluntly. "Or worse. The Void could consume you entirely, leaving nothing behind but corruption." 

Elias felt a chill creep through him. "So what you're saying is, you saved my life… but now I'm walking around with a time bomb in my chest." 

"In essence, yes," Caedric said without apology. "But it is better than the alternative." 

Elias let the information sink in, his mind racing with questions. The Core in his chest was both a blessing and a curse—a desperate solution to a deadly problem. But it also meant that he was tied to this village, to these people, until he understood it better. 

"What do I need to do to keep this Core stable?" he asked. 

Caedric's expression softened slightly, as though he were pleased by the question. "You need to train—to learn discipline over the Void that now resides within you. Recklessness will destroy you. But with guidance, you may yet find balance." 

Elias raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose you're offering to guide me?" 

"I am," said Caedric. "You are a rare case, Elias. To survive the Void and wield it without succumbing is almost unheard of. But if you are to remain here, you will be taught our ways." 

Lyara smirked faintly from the corner. "Consider it a trial. If you don't pass, there's no point in wasting our resources on you." 

Elias shot her a look but said nothing. 

As Caedric stood to leave, Elias called out, "Wait. You mentioned consequences. Are there… other side effects?" 

The elder paused, his gaze turning somber. "Yes. The Void is not kind to those who wield it. You may find your human senses… dulling. Sight, sound, touch—these things may fade in time if you overextend yourself. The Void hungers, Elias. And it takes as much as it gives." 

Elias felt his stomach tighten. Losing his senses? The thought filled him with quiet dread. 

But then Caedric added, "However, you may also find that the Void grants you clarity in other ways. It is… paradoxical. Destructive, yet insightful." 

With that, the elder turned and left, leaving Elias alone with his thoughts. 

Elias lay back against the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. The Core in his chest pulsed faintly, a constant reminder of the fragile balance that now defined his life. He had no choice but to stay in Ashen Veil, to learn from these people—even if it meant subjecting himself to more pain, more discipline. 

The Void had nearly killed him. Now it was his responsibility to make sure it didn't succeed. 

For the first time since arriving in Elysium, Elias felt something he hadn't experienced in a long time: hope. 

Even if it was laced with fear.