BEYOND HORIZON

LUCIUS 

"A Valgura? Inside the Outer Rim? That's crazy... and concerning."

Arcane's voice carried a hint of genuine surprise — and maybe, just maybe, a sliver of pride too.

I wasn't sure. These adults... they really tried their best not to openly compliment us youngsters, at least not directly.

The Sunrise was about three and a half hours away when I sensed Arcane's mana pulse.

I already knew I wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, but honestly, these conversations made it worth missing a good night's rest.

Arcane had a way of listening that pulled everything out of you.

It wasn't just his ears — it was his posture, his eyes, his whole presence.

He pushed conversations beyond surface-level without even trying, like he was truly there, not just hearing but absorbing.

He really was a good listener.

As the night wore on, I told him about my recent venture near the Manisk sector, how I defeated a Guardian Alpha, and my solo missions against the Knightcrawlers.

Arcane kept pressing gently for more details — asking what I could have done better, where I'd made the right call, and where a different approach would have saved time or risk, especially when facing the Valgura.

These small interventions were vital for my growth.

And even if I couldn't voice it aloud right now... I was grateful.

At some point, he commented casually about my hair.

It was turning white, out of nowhere.

Despite my regular oiling, my clean diet... the changes kept happening.

It frustrated me — but honestly, I had bigger things on my mind: Adith, Goodman's strange behaviour, and most importantly, the rumours about the Wraiths.

I debated internally about whether now was the time to tell him everything.

As I wrestled with myself, Arcane shot me a look — deep and penetrating, like he was reading my entire mind through my eyes.

I swallowed nervously.

This man... could see through me far too easily.

"...Weren't your eyes a lighter shade of brown before?"

Arcane leaned back, gazing upwards at the starlit sky.

"Yeah? I mean, they were — are," I answered. "Why?"

He gave me a deadpan look, then shrugged.

"Check for yourself once we meet the others at your house.

They've darkened, Lucius. Not enough for you to notice easily — but I can see it. Because of my rank, my senses are sharper than yours."

"Oh... I see. I'll check once we get home."

Arcane moved on to casually question me about Sia, mentioning her health problems — information he shouldn't have had after being away for four, maybe five years.

I pushed him for an explanation.

He brushed me off lightly, saying he always kept an eye on us... the same way he watched the empire:

Like a shadow that follows you everywhere — seeing everything, but never acting.

Or maybe... unable to act.

I didn't know.

But then, the air shifted.

Arcane straightened, and his mana stirred differently this time.

A quiet, commanding authority filled the space between us.

"Now then," he said, his voice steeled, "enough beating around the bush.

Out with it. Everything. Every single fucking thing. Let's go."

For the first time tonight, his tone carried the full weight of his strength.

My heart skipped.

A chill ran down my spine.

I confessed.

Starting with Adith — the spying, the hidden threads.

Then Goodman — his strange, venomous behaviour toward Sia, his likely connection to Adith.

Finally, I told him about the rumours swirling around the Wraiths... and why I had ventured so deep into the Rims to investigate.

Arcane listened silently through it all, only interrupting occasionally for a detail or clarification.

He didn't speak much, but I could feel him weighing every word, absorbing every piece of the story.

When I finished, he gave me a grim, heavy look.

One that made my stomach twist.

"You know these details take priority, right?

You should've started with them, Lucius," he scolded, his voice low and serious.

"I didn't want to ruin your mood right away," I said quietly.

"Besides... these are my problems.

Isn't that what you taught me?

Take responsibility for your own battles?"

Arcane's mood darkened further, but he didn't argue.

He just exhaled slowly, looking away toward the horizon where the first hints of dawn were beginning to stain the sky.

"You know," Arcane said after a brief pause, "I've got news to share too — the real reason I came here. It does take priority... though I'm not sure if it'll matter as much to you guys."

I tilted my head slightly, studying him.

'Of course he wouldn't just come here to check up on me — us,' I thought, feeling that familiar, stupid little pang of disappointment. I should've expected it.

Still... he came. That's what matters. That's all that should matter, always. 

"Figures," I said casually. "Go on then. Your turn, what's the news?" It's my time to listen now. 

Arcane smirked, a glint of mischief hidden behind his usual calm.

"This will be shared with everyone," he said firmly, as if it were some sacred rule. "No sneak peeks."

'Yup. Figures,' I thought, suppressing a sigh.

Still, curiosity gnawed at me. I tried fishing another way.

"Is it serious?"

He nodded without hesitation, then raised a hand — a silent command: No more questions.

'Alright, alright,' I agreed inwardly, though my heart wasn't so willing.

'If you didn't want to talk about it yet, why even bring it up? Just to hype me up? You ass...' I muttered under my breath, half-smiling despite myself.

Arcane rose fluidly, stretching his arms above his head before adjusting his cloak. His movements were relaxed, but I caught the faint tension in his shoulders — the subtle signs that something was indeed weighing on him.

His gaze turned toward the edge of the world where the first fingers of light clawed their way across the night sky.

It was breathtaking — streaks of pale gold and dusky lavender bleeding into the last of the stars.

I stood too, brushing off dust and loose dirt from my pants. The soreness in my legs reminded me how long we'd been sitting there.

All I could think about was getting home, collapsing into my sofa, maybe even pulling a blanket over my head for a few hours.

I glanced at the growing light and said, almost to fill the silence,

"The sunrise... beyond the horizon... It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"'Horizon,' huh?" Arcane chuckled softly, his voice low and amused. "Yeah. I guess."

There was something about the way he said it — extra pressure on the word, like he found it funny in a way I didn't understand yet.

I decided not to overthink it.

Strong people are often a little insane, or so I've been told. Maybe it's a requirement.

Arcane moved first, stepping toward the cliff's edge and, without hesitation, leaping.

His dark cloak billowed sharply behind him, slicing through the air like a living thing.

For a moment, it looked like the shadows themselves tried to pull him back — but he was already gone, dropping smoothly down the steep incline.

I took a breath and followed.

The morning chill bit at my skin as I descended, the sharp wind tugging at my clothes, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant smoke.

As my boots hit solid ground again, I looked toward the small cluster of lights in the distance — home.

I couldn't help but smirk.

If the others weren't ready... well, they were about to have the surprise of their lives.

And honestly? I couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces.