Chapter 10: The First Bound Core

Elias stared at the ceiling. He had done a lot of that in the last few days. It wasn't like he had much choice—his body refused to cooperate after the events at the Gateway. Every muscle was stiff, every movement sluggish. And then there was the warmth in his chest. 

The Core. 

Caedric's words still echoed in his mind. "You are the first." 

It wasn't comforting. 

He flexed his fingers experimentally, watching the faint black veins beneath his skin pulse in time with the Core's rhythm. He could feel it, thrumming just beneath his sternum, an alien presence integrated into his very being. It was surreal, knowing that he carried something inside him that no one—not even Caedric—fully understood. 

The door creaked open, and Lyara stepped inside. She didn't say anything at first, just leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as she studied him. 

"You look worse than yesterday," she remarked, though there was no malice in her tone. 

"Thanks for the encouragement," Elias muttered, pushing himself into a sitting position. Pain flared along his ribs, but he ignored it. 

"Caedric wants to talk to you," she said, stepping further into the room. "He thinks you're ready to hear the details." 

"That's ominous," Elias replied, though he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. 

Lyara didn't offer him a hand, but she didn't stop him either as he forced himself to stand. 

The elder's study smelled of old parchment, dried herbs, and faintly of smoke. Shelves lined the walls, packed with scrolls and tomes that Elias couldn't even begin to decipher. A small hearth crackled in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the room. 

Caedric sat on a cushion by the fire, his staff resting against the wall. He looked up as Elias and Lyara entered, gesturing for Elias to take the seat opposite him. 

"You seem stronger," Caedric observed. "Good. You'll need your strength for what's to come." 

Elias lowered himself onto the cushion, wincing as his sore muscles protested. "Lyara said you wanted to explain what you did to me." 

The elder nodded. "Yes. You deserve to understand the full scope of the risk I took—and why I believe it was necessary." 

Elias raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening." 

Caedric leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "The Void is a force of destruction. It is not inherently malevolent, but it is incompatible with life as we understand it. Aether sustains; Void consumes. When we found you, the Void energy in your body was growing unstable. If left unchecked, it would have torn you apart." 

"I remember that part," Elias said dryly. 

"What you may not understand," Caedric continued, ignoring the comment, "is that I had no way of knowing if what I did would save you—or end you." 

Elias stiffened. "You're telling me you were flying blind?" 

Caedric met his gaze evenly. "Yes. I had never attempted such a thing before. To my knowledge, no one has. The idea of creating a Core to stabilize the Void within a living being was unprecedented. It goes against everything we know about Aether and Void." 

"Then why try it?" Elias asked, his voice edged with frustration. 

"Because I saw potential," Caedric said simply. "You are not Elysian, yet your body survived contact with the Void longer than any human has a right to. That resilience gave me a foundation to work with. If anyone could survive the process, it was you." 

Elias leaned back, folding his arms. "So I'm your experiment." 

"You are alive," Caedric countered. "And you are the first of your kind. The Core within you is stable—for now. But it will demand much from you if you wish to maintain it." 

Elias studied the elder, trying to gauge his sincerity. "Why do I get the feeling there's more to this?" 

Caedric hesitated, his expression growing somber. "There are side effects," he admitted. 

"Of course there are," Elias muttered. 

"The Void Core within you is artificially constructed," Caedric explained. "It is not like the Aether Cores Elysians are born with, which grow and adapt alongside them. Your Core is rigid, fragile. Each time you draw upon the Void, you will strain its structure. Over time, that strain will manifest as… losses." 

Elias frowned. "What kind of losses?" 

"Your human senses will begin to dull," Caedric said. "Sight, sound, touch—they will fade the more you use the Void. You may find yourself detached from your emotions, your memories clouded." 

Elias's stomach twisted. "You're saying I'll lose my humanity?" 

"The Void is a force of absence," Caedric said gravely. "It takes as much as it gives. That is its nature." 

Elias was silent for a long time, his mind racing. He had thought he was done paying the price for his survival, but it seemed the Void wasn't finished with him yet. 

"What happens if the Core breaks?" he asked finally. 

Caedric's eyes darkened. "If the Core fractures, the Void will consume you. And there will be no stopping it." 

The training began the next day. 

Elias stood in a secluded clearing on the outskirts of the village, the morning air cool against his skin. The forest was alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, a stark contrast to the desolation of the Ashen Wastes where he had nearly died. 

Caedric stood before him, his staff in hand, while Lyara watched from the sidelines, her arms crossed as always. 

"To control the Void, you must first learn to quiet your mind," Caedric said. "Chaos begets chaos. If your thoughts are scattered, the Void will exploit that instability." 

Elias groaned inwardly. He wasn't exactly the meditative type. 

"Close your eyes," Caedric instructed. "Focus on your breathing. Feel the Core within you—its rhythm, its pulse." 

Reluctantly, Elias complied. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, but the sensation of the Core was unsettling. It thrummed faintly beneath his sternum, a foreign presence that didn't belong but refused to be ignored. 

"Guide the Void," Caedric said. "Do not force it. Let it flow." 

Elias exhaled slowly, reaching for the energy within him. It responded—tentatively at first, then with growing intensity. Shadows coalesced around his hands, flickering like black flames. 

"Good," Caedric said. "Now contain it. Shape it into something tangible." 

Elias's brow furrowed as he concentrated. The shadows twisted and writhed, resisting his efforts to control them. A spike of pain shot through his chest, and the energy unraveled, dispersing into the air. 

He stumbled, clutching his ribs. 

"Again," Caedric said, his tone firm but patient. 

Elias gritted his teeth. This was going to be a long day. 

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Elias was drenched in sweat, his body trembling from the effort. But he had finally managed it—a small sphere of Void energy hovered in his palm, stable and contained. 

Caedric nodded approvingly. "You are learning." 

Elias let the sphere dissipate, exhaling in relief. "Barely." 

"You have made progress," Caedric said. "That is more than I expected for your first session." 

Lyara approached then, a faint smirk on her lips. "Not bad," she admitted. "For a reckless idiot." 

Elias shot her a tired glare but didn't respond. 

As the three of them made their way back to the village, Elias couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty. The road ahead was long, and the stakes were higher than he had ever imagined. But for the first time, he felt like he might have a chance.