Book 2: Chapter 6 – Secrets Out

"Good evening, teacher," Jabari said, scrambling to his feet and trying his best to sound respectful.

Aziz barely spared him a glance before waving a dismissive hand. "No need for meaningless pleasantries." His voice was smooth yet carried an edge sharp enough to cut steel. His crimson eyes locked onto Jabari's, pinning him in place like a beast eyeing its prey. "The only thing I want to know is – why?"

Jabari stiffened. There was something about Aziz's gaze that made his skin crawl. It wasn't just scrutiny – it was as if the man were peering into the very depths of his soul, peeling away every layer of thought and emotion. The pressure bore down on him, coiling tighter with each passing second.

His instincts screamed at him to run. Every fibre of his being urged him to flee, to put as much distance as possible between himself and this predator in human form. But when he thought about what was at stake, his legs remained rooted to the floor.

Desperation clawed at him, and without thinking, he channelled his spirit energy into his brain, accelerating his thought process. He needed an answer – one that would satisfy Aziz and ensure he wasn't cast aside.

What he failed to notice, however, was the faint glow in Aziz's irises the moment he did so. The foreign mentor's brow lifted ever so slightly, a flicker of intrigue flashing across his otherwise unreadable expression.

Jabari's mind raced at an unnatural speed, yet every answer he conjured felt insufficient. One by one, he discarded them all. His frustration mounted until, finally, he sighed in resignation. In this moment, honesty seemed the best course.

"I want to become strong!" His voice rang with raw determination, yet beneath it lay an undercurrent of helplessness and longing.

Aziz studied him, his expression unreadable. Then, after a beat, he spoke again. "Any of the Elders in the institute is more than qualified to make you stronger, so why me?"

Jabari clenched his fists. "Because you're the strongest!" he declared, his tone matter-of-fact.

For the first time, Aziz's face twitched – once, twice – before, to Jabari's shock, the man burst into laughter. It wasn't the polite chuckle of an Elder indulging a student but a genuine, amused laugh.

"And what makes you think I'm stronger than the Supreme Elder and the others?" Aziz asked, his amusement evident.

Jabari faltered. He couldn't very well tell the truth – that his enhanced senses made it clear Aziz was on an entirely different level from the rest. He had no intention of revealing abilities he himself barely understood, not even to the man he wished to be his mentor.

Fortunately, growing up in the slums had taught him the art of deception. The best lies, he knew, were woven with threads of truth.

"Your steps," he said carefully.

Aziz's amusement didn't fade, but his eyes sharpened. "My steps?"

Jabari forced himself to remain calm, suppressing the relief bubbling within him. This was his chance. One mistake, and he would lose the fragile control he had over this conversation.

"The way you walked when you entered the stage with the other Elders," he explained. "Each step was…

Perfect.

It was as if you measured the distance between them with a ruler before taking the next. And they were unnaturally light, almost as if your feet barely touched the ground at all."

Aziz's eyes gleamed with interest. "What else?"

Jabari hesitated for a fraction of a second before closing his eyes, calling forth the memory. His ability had made his recollection unnervingly sharp – he could visualise that moment as though he were experiencing it all over again.

At first, his focus remained on Aziz's feet. But then, something shifted. His gaze moved upward, taking in the entire motion of the man's body.

"It wasn't just your feet," Jabari murmured, his brows furrowing. "It was your whole body."

Aziz leaned forward slightly. "And what about my body?"

Jabari struggled to put the sensation into words.

"I…

I don't know how to explain it." He frowned, frustrated by the inadequacy of his own vocabulary. "It was as if every step was perfectly…

Natural." He met Aziz's gaze. "Like your entire body was moving as one, with no wasted movement at all."

A slow smile curved Aziz's lips. Then, without warning…

* Clap, Clap, Clap! *

Jabari jolted at the sound. He looked up to find Aziz watching him with an expression of pure satisfaction.

"Very impressive," Aziz said, his crimson eyes gleaming. "To glean so much from watching me walk just once…

It seems I've stumbled upon quite the gem."

Pride bloomed in Jabari's chest. But before he could bask in it, his body went rigid at Aziz's next words.

"Tell me…

Is that your bloodline ability?" Aziz mused. "To enhance your senses to inhuman levels?"

All colour drained from Jabari's face.

Aziz chuckled at the reaction. In a blur of movement too fast for Jabari to process, he leapt through the open window, vanishing into the night.

The last thing Jabari heard was his voice, drifting through the air as if whispered right beside him.

"Don't worry – your secret is safe with me, my dear little apprentice."

Jabari remained rooted to the spot, staring blankly out of the open window Aziz had vanished through. Hours slipped by unnoticed as he ran through every possible outcome of his mysterious new mentor knowing his secret.

Try as he might to think positively, his mind always veered toward the worst possibilities.

'What if he kills me before I grow strong enough to protect myself? What if he steals my ability like Oluwa stole Inayah's vassal?'

The more he dwelled on these thoughts, the deeper his fear sank its claws into him. His hands clenched into fists, frustration and helplessness churning inside him. He needed a way out of this predicament – but no matter how he looked at it, every option seemed to lead to a dead end.

Escape? It was a fool's dream. Even if he somehow found a way to slip away unnoticed, abandoning the institute meant abandoning his mission. And that was not an option.

Seek help from another Elder? That would require revealing his ability – a gamble he wasn't willing to take. Who was to say they wouldn't be just as tempted by greed?

But what unnerved him the most was the nagging uncertainty – Was Aziz still watching him?

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. He scanned his surroundings but saw nothing out of place. Then, an idea struck him. If Aziz was still nearby, his scent should linger.

Jabari walked over to where Aziz had stood, inhaling deeply as he channelled his spirit energy into his nose. The air carried faint traces of sandalwood and something darker – something he couldn't quite place. He crouched lower, pressing his fingers against the floor and sniffing again.

"It's fading, but I have his scent," he murmured.

Following the trail outside, he focused on the lingering traces in the air. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. He pushed his senses further, fusing his enhanced hearing with his sight. The night was alive with subtle noises – the rustling of leaves, the distant chirp of insects – but of Aziz, there was nothing.

Jabari exhaled slowly. 'So he really left.'

But even that knowledge did nothing to help him decide what to do next.

Hours passed as he paced outside his quarters, his mind cycling through the same concerns again and again. At some point, he looked up at the night sky, the moon and stars casting their cold light over the silent landscape. With a weary sigh, he turned back toward his room, only to hesitate at the threshold.

'I won't find answers in there.'

Instead, he walked past the other cabins, his steps aimless until he found himself between the first two dormitories. Spotting a sturdy tree, he sat down, resting his back against its rough bark before closing his eyes.

The night stretched on, and at some point, exhaustion claimed him.

A few hours later, the quiet creak of a door stirred him from his light sleep. Instinct sharpened his focus instantly, and he cracked open an eye, scanning the darkness.

A figure emerged from Cabin One, broad and towering even in the dim light. August.

Jabari watched as the other student hefted two large wooden buckets of water, his movements slow and unhurried, yet carrying an unmistakable strength.

'Looks like I was right. Other than myself, the others must have been assigned their cabins based on their final placement.'

If assignments were based on overall ranking instead of just the last test, though, he should've been given Cabin Seven rather than Cabin Twenty. But compared to everything else weighing on his mind, it was a minor concern at best.

Standing, Jabari approached. August had already noticed him but made no move to acknowledge his presence, merely waiting for him to speak.

"I didn't know where or when we were meant to meet today, so I camped out here hoping to follow you," Jabari admitted.

"There was a starter pack on your bed," August replied, his tone flat.

Jabari's brows furrowed. Starter pack? There had been nothing left on his bed. Another punishment, then, for his choice of mentor. But what was the point in complaining?

Rather than dwell on it, he forced a sheepish grin. "I was never taught to read in the slums."

August studied him for a moment before finally responding. "You can nap inside my quarters while I train. I'll wake you when I'm done."

Jabari shook his head. "I've had enough rest for one night. Is it alright if I watch your training instead?"

August merely shrugged, saying nothing further.

With both buckets of water in hand, August strode to the centre of his garden and squatted down into a deep horse stance. His posture was firm, his legs spread wide, and his arms extended straight in front of him, each hand gripping a bucket as though they were mere extensions of his body.

Jabari watched, intrigued. 'That doesn't seem too hard.'

His muscles practically itched with the urge to try it himself. Pushing himself up, he strode forward, eager to imitate the stance.

Cautious of making the same mistake again and revealing his ability, he refrained from using his spirit to enhance his vision. But even without it, his natural perception was impressive. Plus, the stance itself was simple enough – feet planted, back straight, thighs parallel to the ground. Confident in his imitation, he positioned himself just as August had.

A second later, he was on his backside.

Jabari blinked, stunned. 'My balance is that bad?'

Gritting his teeth, he scrambled to his feet, refusing to accept defeat. He tried again. And again. And again. Each attempt ended the same way – his legs trembling, his stance faltering, his body tipping backward before he could even stabilise.

"Try it with your back against the cabin to start with," August advised, his tone indifferent, as though this were nothing more than a passing suggestion. He had been holding his stance for over ten minutes now, unmoving, as solid as the earth itself.

Jabari exhaled sharply, then did as instructed, pressing his back against the wooden wall before sinking into the same position. The difference was immediate – it was easier, far more stable.

For all of five seconds.

Then, his legs began to shake.

He clenched his jaw, glancing toward August, who remained motionless, his body seemingly unaffected by the strain. The difference between them was staggering. Still, Jabari forced himself to endure.

By the time he reached ten seconds, his legs were screaming in protest. Every fibre of his being urged him to stand, to relieve the unbearable tension. But he refused. He pushed past the agony, relying solely on sheer willpower – until his body finally gave out at thirteen seconds.

His legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the ground.

Breathing heavily, he remained still for a few moments, allowing his muscles to recover. Then, with gritted teeth, he attempted to rise – only to find his legs refusing to cooperate.

It took another minute before he could even roll onto his feet.

Taking a deep breath, he got back into position.

This time, he lasted only ten seconds before collapsing once more.

And so the cycle continued – each attempt shorter than the last, each rest period growing longer. Yet, despite the gruelling nature of the exercise, he never quit.

August observed him in silence, his expression unreadable.

'As expected from the one who set the record for the Test of Will,' he mused, watching as Jabari forced himself back into position once again.