Awakening The Ether [4]

The air still shimmered with the remnants of his awakening.

It was subtle—an invisible hum that pulsed beneath the surface of reality, threading through the wind, through the stone, through the very marrow of his bones.

Nox could feel it now in a way he never had before.

Ether was not just something he wielded; it was something that had always been a part of him, an extension of his existence that had finally opened its eyes.

And Evelyn was still watching him.

Her violet gaze was unreadable, sharp yet distant, as if measuring something beyond just the raw force he had displayed.

There was something almost eerie in the way she studied him—not with the casual interest of a teacher assessing a student, nor the detached amusement she had always carried when throwing him into impossible scenarios.

No, this was different.

This was curiosity.

True, piercing curiosity.

Nox exhaled slowly, releasing the last traces of tension from his shoulders.

"So,"

He said, voice quieter than he expected.

"That was my Ether."

Evelyn smirked, though the expression didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Not bad,"

She admitted, tilting her head slightly.

"For a first attempt, I mean."

He narrowed his eyes.

"You looked surprised."

At that, she let out a soft chuckle.

"I was. Just a little."

She stepped forward, arms folded across her chest.

"Your Ether—it's sharp. Controlled. Most first awakenings are… chaotic. Wild. They thrash and spiral like an untrained beast finally let loose from its chains. But yours?"

She paused, tapping a single finger against her temple as if sorting through her thoughts.

"Yours didn't explode outward. It cut. It sliced through my pressure like it was nothing. That's not normal, Nox."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that.

He had felt it too—that precision, that cold sharpness, as if his very soul had been honed into a blade.

But he had nothing to compare it to.

He didn't know what was normal and what wasn't.

Evelyn must have noticed his silence, because she let out a slow sigh and took another step closer.

"Let me explain something,"

She murmured.

"Ether is a reflection of the self. It manifests not as something external, but as the truest form of your being given shape, given breath. That's why every wielder's Ether is different. Some burn like raging fire, unable to be contained. Some flow like the tides, constantly shifting, adapting. Others are vast and heavy, immovable as the mountains."

She lifted a single hand, palm facing upward.

For a brief moment, the air around her twisted, shimmering with unseen force.

"Mine,"

She continued,

"Is depth. Endless, all-encompassing. Like the abyss itself."

Nox could feel it.

The moment she said it, the Ether around her deepened—not as something tangible, but as an overwhelming sense of gravity, a presence so vast it made the air itself feel heavier.

It was not suffocating, not crushing, but it was there, undeniable and absolute, stretching into unseen depths beyond comprehension.

And just as quickly as it came, it vanished.

Evelyn lowered her hand, her expression unreadable once more.

"Yours, however,"

She said slowly,

"Is a blade."

Nox blinked.

"...A blade?"

"A blade."

She nodded, her eyes gleaming with something he couldn't quite place.

"Cold. Precise. Calculated. A weapon not forged from reckless destruction, but from something far, far more dangerous."

She tilted her head, as if considering her next words carefully.

"It suits you."

That sent a chill down his spine, though he wasn't sure why.

Evelyn stepped even closer now, until they were only a breath apart.

Her voice lowered, barely above a whisper.

"But that also means something very important, Nox."

He swallowed.

"What?"

Her smirk returned, but this time, there was no amusement behind it—only something far darker.

"It means that if you're not careful,"

She said softly,

"Your own Ether will consume you."

A strange sensation curled in his chest, somewhere between unease and understanding.

He didn't need her to explain further.

He already knew.

A blade was a weapon, a thing designed to cut, to kill, to sever.

If Ether was the manifestation of the self, then what did it mean for someone whose very essence had become something so sharp, so honed, so lethal?

For someone whose very existence had become the act of cutting away?

Evelyn let him stew in silence for a moment before she spoke again, her voice lighter, almost playful.

"But, don't overthink it too much. You've only just awakened. There's still a long way to go before you truly understand what your Ether is—and more importantly, what it will become."

Nox forced himself to nod, though his mind was still racing.

Evelyn suddenly clapped a hand against his shoulder.

"Now, let's get to the fun part."

He raised an eyebrow.

"...Fun part?"

She grinned.

"The part where you learn how to actually use it."

A sense of foreboding crept up his spine.

"...You mean—"

"Training, Nox."

Her grip tightened, just slightly.

"Endless, merciless, grueling training."

He groaned.

"Of course."

Evelyn laughed, stepping back.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. You just awakened your Ether, and you already want to slack off?"

"Slacking off wasn't even an option,"

He muttered, rubbing his temples.

She smirked.

"That's right." Then, with a flick of her wrist, she turned on her heel, already heading towards the open courtyard. "Come on, we're starting now."

"Now?!"

"Yes, now. Your Ether is still raw, still unshaped. The longer you go without refining it, the harder it will be to control. And besides…"

She glanced at him over her shoulder, her expression unreadable.

"You want this, don't you?"

Nox clenched his jaw.

He did.

Even with all the warnings, even with all the uncertainty, even with the lingering weight of her words pressing against his mind—he wanted this.

This was the moment he had been waiting for.

The first step towards something greater.

So he took a breath.

And followed her in.

*****

Hidden behind the veil of shadows, just beyond the training grounds, Seraphina watched.

She had been there from the beginning, long before Evelyn had spoken, long before Nox had even realized the true extent of what had awakened within him.

The world had changed in that instant.

'He's different now.'

The thought settled deep in her chest, carrying a strange weight she could not name.

From the moment his Ether flared to life, she had felt it—a shift in the very essence of the boy she had once held in her arms, the boy she had once whispered lullabies to in the dead of night.

He was no longer just her son.

He had become something else.

'A blade… A weapon…'

Her fingers curled at her sides.

Seraphina was no fool.

She had spent lifetimes walking the thin line between power and madness, between ambition and restraint.

She had seen those who had risen too high, too quickly, their souls consumed by the very force that had once uplifted them.

And now, standing in the shadows, watching the way the air around Nox shivered—not with raw destruction, but with something far colder, far more precise—she knew.

'This isn't normal.'

This wasn't the awakening of a mere practitioner, nor the fumbling first steps of a child discovering his potential.

Nox's Ether had not exploded into the world, reckless and untamed like most first awakenings.

No, his had emerged in silence, in stillness, cutting through the air with the quiet inevitability of a drawn blade.

A harbinger of something inevitable.

And she was afraid.

Not of him.

Never of him.

But of what he might become.

'Did I make a mistake?'

The thought burned, shameful and unwanted.

She had always known this moment would come, had prepared for it—had trained him, had tested him, had pushed him, time and time again.

But she had never once considered the possibility that his power would manifest this way.

That it would feel so... unnatural.

'No… not unnatural. Just… different.'

A cold truth settled over her.

She had wanted him to be strong.

She had wanted him to survive in a world that cared nothing for weakness.

And he had.

He had survived, had endured, had grown into something far beyond what she had dared to imagine.

But at what cost?

Her lips pressed together, and for the first time in years, she hesitated.

She had always told herself that she would not interfere.

That this was his path to walk, not hers.

That he would need to carve his own future, just as she had carved hers.

And yet…

'What kind of mother simply watches as her child walks into the abyss?'

Her gaze remained locked onto him.

He looked so much like his father in that moment.

The way he held himself, the way his expression remained unreadable, the way his power settled around him—silent, disciplined, unrelenting.

A force not born from arrogance or desperation, but from an unshakable will.

And yet, there was something else, something deeper, something she could not place.

Something that made her want to reach out.

To stop this.

To turn back time.

But no.

She knows that Awakening the Ether was her son's dream.

Once he Awakens his ether, nobody, nobody will never look down on him again.

This was who he was now.

A quiet sigh slipped past her lips, barely more than a whisper.

'I should have known this would happen. I should have seen it earlier.'

Her mind drifted, unbidden, to memories she had long tried to bury.

To the nights she had spent watching over him as he slept, to the quiet moments where he had clung to her hand, so small, so fragile.

To the promise she had once made, long before he had even been old enough to understand the weight of it.

"I will protect you."

A lie.

She had told herself she could.

That she would.

But in the end, the only thing she had done was shape him into something that could protect himself.

'Was that the right choice?'

She did not know.

And as she watched him take his first steps to the courtyard, following Evelyn into a future neither of them could predict, she realized—

She may never know.