Memories of the past part-3

Inside one of the palace's many chambers, Ardrian sat cross-legged on a velvet-draped bed, practicing his mana circulation technique.

The room was calm, lit only by soft ambient glow stones embedded in the walls. Tiny particles of mana sparkled in the air around him, responding to his slow, steady breathing. He drew the ambient mana inward, channeling it through his veins in a smooth, continuous loop, guiding it toward the core nestled deep in his abdomen.

The mana core shimmered faintly, spherical in shape and surrounded by a fine, thread-like structure connecting it to a single floating mana marble. The marble rotated in a quiet, constant orbit, reacting to the steady stream of energy.

As he focused, the core began to emit a faint blue light, pulsing rhythmically like a heartbeat. It was the telltale sign of a breakthrough. A second marble began forming beside the first, growing clearer with each rotation.

Moments later, Ardrian slowly opened his eyes. A rare smile touched his lips—he had broken through to Beginner Level-2.

"Congratulations, master," came a soft voice.

Ardrian turned toward the voice, his gaze settling on the figure standing near the doorway. It was Rose, now his personal attendant.

She looked different—refined, radiant. Her long, rose-pink hair was combed to perfection, parted neatly to the side, and secured with a delicate silver hairpin shaped like a lily. Not a strand was out of place.

She wore a tailored cream blouse with lace-trimmed cuffs, tucked neatly into a high-waisted skirt the color of dusky rose. A ribbon the same shade as her hair was tied in a graceful bow at her collar. Every detail of her appearance spoke of quiet poise.

"You look beautiful, Rose," Ardrian said with a gentle smile.

She bowed slightly in acknowledgment. "Thank you, master."

"No," Ardrian corrected himself, standing to face her more directly. "From now on, call me 'my lord' or 'Lord Ardrian.' Not 'master.' Understood?"

Rose blinked in surprise but nodded obediently. "Yes, my lord."

A moment of quiet passed between them. Ardrian studied her for a moment longer before asking, "How old are you, Rose?"

"I'm fifteen, my lord."

His brow furrowed slightly. "Then why haven't you awakened yet? Most children awaken their mana veins around the age of ten."

Her expression darkened. "My lord… my awakening ceremony failed. My mana veins never opened. My parents tried to help—they weren't wealthy, but they scraped together everything they had and eventually bought a potion from the black market. It was supposed to help me awaken. But… it was fake. The merchant disappeared, and the debt they owed cost them everything. I was taken to pay the price."

Her voice trembled slightly. Ardrian stepped forward and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

"I'll help you," he said firmly. "You'll awaken properly this time. I'll find a real potion."

Tears welled in Rose's eyes, but she held them back. "Thank you, my lord. I'm grateful."

A knock came at the door, breaking the silence. A palace maid entered, bowing respectfully. Her uniform was pristine, and the royal insignia—a majestic, eagle-like beast known as the Skylurian, wings unfurled—gleamed on her shoulder.

"Your Highness," she said, "His Majesty the Emperor has summoned you. Please make your way to the throne room."

Ardrian gave Rose one last nod before turning to leave. "Stay here. I'll return shortly."

As Ardrian walked through the palace's grand halls, he crossed paths with two familiar faces—Victor, his close friend and brother, and he was at level-3, one level above him, and Richard, the grandson of the Beratis merchant family patriarch. Richard had short black hair and sharp blue eyes, his posture proud but stiff.

"Congratulations, Brother Richard," Victor said cheerfully. "I heard your aura awakening was a success."

Ardrian nodded politely. "Congratulations."

Richard offered a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you," he replied, though a flicker of jealousy lingered beneath his words because he is not a dual awakener.

They entered the throne room together.

The vast chamber was still eerily so. Sunlight filtered through towering windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor. At the far end, a massive throne of dark stone and silver stood atop a dais, and upon it sat "Emperor Zavier de Altan".

He leaned into the throne, elbow resting on the armrest, chin propped on one hand, his gaze distant. He looked not at them, but through them.

After a long pause, his voice echoed through the chamber.

"In one month, you will enter the Forest to participate in the Trial of Worthy. Prepare yourselves."

With a clap, another figure entered the hall—a man with chestnut brown hair and a well-kept beard. He looked neither old nor young, but held the presence of a seasoned warrior.

"This is Thompson," the emperor continued. "He will be your instructor. He will train you in both sword and magic. Prove yourselves worthy."

The audience ended as swiftly as it began.

The group followed Thompson to the northern wing of the palace, where the Royal Training Grounds lay.

The grounds were a marvel of magical architecture. Obsidian tiles paved the vast courtyard, etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly beneath their feet. A translucent dome of protective wards shimmered above them, allowing high-level spellcasting without risk to the palace.

Rows of enchanted training dummies stood at attention—each capable of mimicking combat techniques from swordplay to elemental spells. Spell-forged weapons hung neatly on racks, humming faintly with latent enchantments.

At the far end, a circular balcony overlooked the arena, equipped with arcane instruments for observation and simulation playback. At its center hovered the Royal Crest, powered by a floating mana crystal the heart of the system.

Victor's mouth hung open. "This place is incredible…"

Thompson stepped forward and addressed the group with a deep, commanding voice. "Today, we begin with the fundamentals: the properties and differences between mana and aura."

He paced slowly. "Mana is drawn from the world around us—it flows through nature, sky, stone, and storm. We absorb it through our veins and store it in our mana core. Aura, on the other hand, is generated within. It is your own life force, converted through your aura veins when mana passes through them."

Victor raised his hand eagerly. "Which is stronger, teacher?"

Thompson smiled. "That depends. Aura is volatile, sharp, and difficult to control. Mana is stable, gentle in nature. But mastery lies not in the power itself, but in how you wield it."

Ardrian's thoughts wandered briefly back to a time when an uncontrolled aura had left him exhausted after a fight. Now he understood why.

That's enough theory for today, Thompson concluded, Tomorrow, we begin practical training. Come prepared.