Awakening The Ether (1)

The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound in the study.

Shadows danced along the mahogany bookshelves, casting eerie shapes against the polished floors.

The scent of aged parchment and candle wax hung in the air, mixing with the lingering aroma of freshly brewed tea.

Nox sat across from his father, Lord Aldric Sillon, his fingers pressed together in thought.

The weight of the moment was pressing down on him, but he had long since learned to mask his unease behind silence.

He had grown up in this house, in these halls, under the weight of his family name.

The Sillon Estate was not cold, not like his uncle's Windsor Estate, where words were like blades and affection was a distant concept.

Here, discipline was tempered with reason. But reason did not always equate to kindness.

And now, his father was telling him something unbelievable.

"What do you mean, father? A new instructor… to awaken my Ether? To control it?"

The words tasted foreign on his tongue.

He had given up on this long ago.

Aldric Sillon's gaze was unreadable, his fingers drumming idly against the oak desk.

He was a man who carried his authority with quiet confidence—never raising his voice, never indulging in unnecessary cruelty.

He was not cold by nature, but when the moment demanded it, he could become as unyielding as iron.

"Yes,"

Aldric said simply.

Nox narrowed his eyes.

His father had never made empty promises, which made this even harder to believe.

For years, scholars, healers, and even Ether specialists had examined him.

Some claimed his Ether was dormant, suppressed by an unknown factor.

Others said he was simply unawakened, a rare case but not unheard of.

And then there were the whispers.

The ones who said he was flawed.

That Nox Sillon, was defective.

A noble without Ether was like a bird without wings—a creature bound to the ground, forever out of place in the sky.

He had learned to ignore it.

To fight with his hands, with his mind, with his sheer refusal to be weak.

But now… his father was telling him there was still a chance.

"And you think this instructor will be different?"

"I don't think,"

Aldric said, meeting his son's gaze.

"I know."

There was conviction in his voice.

Nox's fingers curled against his palm.

That was dangerous.

Hope was dangerous.

Before he could reply, a knock echoed through the study.

It was not the hesitant knock of a servant.

It was firm.

Precise.

His father smirked slightly.

"She's here."

The door swung open.

A presence entered before the person did.

It was subtle—like a change in air pressure, like the shift in atmosphere before a storm.

A ripple that disturbed the quiet.

Then she stepped inside.

The first thing Nox noticed was her stride.

There was no hesitation.

No uncertainty.

Every movement was deliberate, measured—not the arrogance of nobility, but the grace of a predator who knew exactly how much space she occupied in the world.

She was tall, standing just a few inches shorter than his father.

Her build was lean but unmistakably strong, the kind of strength earned through battle, not idle training.

She wore a long, fitted coat of midnight blue, embroidered with silver sigils that seemed to shift under the dim light.

Beneath it, she donned dark leather armor—practical, functional, unadorned.

Her hair was deep auburn, cascading over one shoulder, stray strands framing a face that was striking, but not conventionally beautiful.

Her features were sharp, angular—high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a gaze that felt like looking down the edge of a drawn blade.

Her eyes.

A shade of amethyst so deep they seemed almost unnatural.

And in those eyes, Nox saw something he did not expect.

She wasn't here to judge him.

She wasn't here to doubt him.

She was here because she already knew something he didn't.

She came to a stop before his father, nodding slightly.

"Lord Sillon."

Her voice was low, controlled.

Not soft, not harsh.

Simply… steady.

Aldric nodded back.

"You're earlier than expected."

"You said it was urgent,"

She replied, glancing at Nox for the first time.

She didn't speak right away.

Just looked at him.

Not in the way people usually did—not with pity, not with doubt.

She studied him like a weapon yet to be sharpened.

Like she was searching for something beneath the surface.

"This is my son,"

Aldric said.

"Your new student."

She tilted her head slightly.

"So this is the boy who doesn't have Ether."

There was no malice in her tone.

Just acknowledgment.

Nox met her gaze without flinching.

"That's what they say."

"And what do you say?"

He exhaled slowly.

"I say I'm still here."

Something flickered in her expression—amusement, maybe.

Approval.

She turned back to Aldric.

"We'll need the training grounds."

Aldric nodded.

"You will have whatever you require."

She finally turned to Nox again, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

"Come,"

She said, motioning for him to follow.

"Let's see if you're really as hopeless as they say."

*****

The Sillon Estate's training grounds stretched before them—wide, open, reinforced with spell-etched stone designed to withstand powerful Ether techniques.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the field.

The air was still, the scent of morning dew clinging to the grass.

She turned to face him, arms crossed.

"First things first,"

She said, her amethyst eyes gleaming.

"You already have your mana and you've been trying to force your Ether awake, haven't you?"

Nox frowned.

"Isn't that the only way?"

"No."

She stepped closer, the tip of her boot pressing against the stone floor.

"Ether isn't something you force. It's not a tool, not an object you command. It's alive."

She lifted her hand.

No incantation.

No gestures.

But the air shimmered.

A pulse rippled outward—not a spell, not a trick.

A presence.

"You don't tell your lungs to breathe,"

She murmured.

"They just do."

Nox clenched his fists.

"I've tried that."

"No,"

She said, stepping even closer, her voice lowering.

"You've tried to control it."

Her fingers barely brushed against his wrist.

For a split second, something stirred inside him.

Not power.

Not force.

Something else.

Like a heartbeat in the dark.

Then it vanished.

His breath caught.

She pulled away, her gaze sharp with interest.

"There it is."

Nox exhaled.

"What was that?"

"Proof,"

She said.

"Your Ether is there."

"Then why won't it awaken?"

She smirked slightly.

"Because you're still thinking like a noble."

He stiffened.

She turned away, hands behind her back, glancing up at the sky.

"Tomorrow,"

She said.

"We do this again. No swords. No training drills. Just you and your Ether."

"And what if I fail?"

She looked over her shoulder.

"Then you were never meant to wake it."

For the first time in years, Nox felt something other than doubt.

He felt challenged.