Where is the truth?

"Where am I? This looks like my room… So it was all just a dream?" murmured Kyriel in a faint, almost uncertain voice. He couldn't remember how he had returned to his room, nor that he had been asleep for two whole weeks. But when he lowered his eyes and saw, nestled in the palm of his hand, a bright red apple, the truth struck him like a bolt: everything he had recently experienced had been real.

"This apple… in my hand… So it really happened? But how did I get back here? My last memory is of picking it… and then… nothing but white," he whispered.

"And Master Keith? Was it him who brought me back? But how could he have known where I live?" he wondered aloud, still speaking in a hushed tone. He took a deep breath, then bit into the apple, repeating the action until there was nothing left.

Suddenly, a strange sensation overwhelmed his entire body. As though a new force had surged through him, regenerating every part of his being. He rose from the bed almost instantly, filled with newfound vigor.

"What a strange apple… I don't feel the slightest bit of hunger anymore… It was enough to completely satisfy me…"

"I understand now why Master Keith asked me to climb the tree and pick it myself," Kyriel thought, still in awe of the fruit's extraordinary effects.

"But wait… Something happened up there, when the rain and wind kept me from gripping the branches. I was about to fall, about to crash to the ground… when a sudden surge of energy coursed through me, propelling me forcefully to the top, allowing me to seize the apple."

"What was that sensation? Could I have awakened the element tied to my Art?"

"And if that's the case… what power have I gained?" he asked aloud, eyes gleaming with excitement at the idea of discovering the element he now bore.

His gaze shifted to a glass of water resting on his bedside table. With a slow, deliberate gesture, he extended his hand, closed his eyes, and focused with all his might… but nothing happened. He repeated the motion over and over, nearly a dozen times… still nothing.

"I must be doing something wrong… I should ask my brothers—they'll surely know how to proceed once someone awakens their elemental Art," he resolved inwardly.

Wasting no more time, he opened the door to his room and rushed to the living room. His entire family was there, gathered in an animated discussion about their upcoming participation in the promotion exams for swordsmanship students. No sooner had he stepped into the room than Nicole was the first to notice him.

"Kyriel!" she exclaimed, taken completely by surprise.

The very moment his name left her lips, every member of the family turned toward the spot where the young apprentice stood. On their faces, expressions of shock and relief intertwined. Overcome with emotion, Marie could no longer hold back her tears of joy and rushed forward to embrace her son.

"Kyriel… You have no idea how worried I was," she murmured through sobs, her cheeks streaked with tears.

"Uh… but Mother, I was just asleep… Why such a reaction?" asked Kyriel, clearly unsettled by his family's behavior.

"Yes, you were asleep… but that slumber lasted fourteen days!" shouted Bertrand from across the room.

"Fourteen days? That's insane! How could I have slept for so long?" exclaimed Kyriel, stunned.

"It's the absolute truth. You were unconscious for two full weeks. We were all terribly worried," said Nicole, visibly relieved.

"You lazy good-for-nothing! Now that you're finally awake, you can repay me for all the chores I had to do in your place while you were off dreaming!" exclaimed Chloé as she stepped forward and smacked him on the head.

"Ow! You're trying to kill me already and I've only just woken up?" cried Kyriel, recoiling in fear from his sister.

"Sleeping Beauty finally opens his eyes, I see. So, how do you feel?" asked Clé, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well… to be honest, I feel perfectly fine. Not tired at all—on the contrary, I'm brimming with energy," replied Kyriel, rubbing the spot on his head where Chloé had struck him.

"That's reassuring. In that case, welcome back," declared Bertrand, arms crossed.

"And the apple?" asked Benjamin, noticing that Kyriel was no longer holding it.

"I ate it right after I woke up," Kyriel answered calmly.

"Kyriel… Where exactly did that apple come from? It didn't rot, even after all these days," Dylan asked with evident curiosity.

"I picked it from the Eternal Apple Tree," Kyriel replied, puffing out his chest and placing his hands proudly on his hips.

At those words, a stunned silence fell upon the room. Then, in an instant, it was broken by a wave of uncontrollable laughter.

"Hahahahahaha!!!" his brothers and sisters roared with laughter.

"Are you serious, Kyriel? You're not actually trying to convince us that you climbed that tree, are you? That's completely impossible!" Benjamin cried out, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

"I swear to you, I'm telling the truth," replied Kyriel, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

"Of course, of course… And while we're at it, you must have climbed that tree using a one-hundred-and-forty-meter ladder, right?" quipped Clé mockingly, clearly skeptical of Kyriel's claims.

"But I assure you! I awakened the element of my Art… and with it, I managed to reach the branches of the apple tree!" he insisted.

"The element of your Art, you say? Very well… Then show us a demonstration of your abilities," Bertrand retorted, arms crossed.

"I… I don't know how to do that yet. That's exactly why I rushed here—to ask for your help in understanding how it works," Kyriel replied, visibly uncomfortable.

"Hold on a moment… You're claiming to have climbed the Eternal Apple Tree using the power of your Art, but you can't even give us a basic demonstration? That's ridiculous," Clé added, still deeply skeptical.

"When someone awakens their element, manipulating energy becomes as natural as breathing or drinking water," he went on, his tone accusatory.

"But I swear I'm telling the truth," Kyriel repeated, with fervent sincerity. "I was on my way to the clearing, as I usually am, when I was suddenly overcome by a fierce hunger. I was about to turn back when I heard a deafening noise…"

"Curious, I decided to follow the sound… and that's when I came upon a man. A majestic being, of unimaginable power. His mere presence was enough to crush me—I couldn't even move a single finger…"

"And yet, that man chose to help me. He handed me a strange seed, and thanks to it, I was able to remain standing despite the overwhelming pressure of his aura. Then he began to teach me the fundamentals of the Art. As part of my training, he instructed me to climb the Eternal Apple Tree and pick one of its fruits. And I obeyed."

"I began to climb, driving my fingers into the bark itself…" Kyriel continued, his gaze distant. "But halfway up, a torrential rain began to fall. I couldn't go back down—a fall would have meant certain death. So I gathered every ounce of strength I had left… and that's when I awakened my Art. I leapt all the way to the top and seized the apple. After that… everything went white, and I woke up here."

At the end of his account, silence fell over the room. A heavy stillness lingered in the air. Despite the honesty that shone clearly in Kyriel's eyes, none of them could bring themselves to believe a single word. It was simply unthinkable that the weakest of the siblings could have climbed a one-hundred-and-forty-meter tree and pierced bark said to be as solid as the golden stone of the famed Golden Rock City.

"So… you're saying you pierced the bark with your bare fingers?" asked Bertrand, arms still crossed.

"Yes. That's how I managed to climb," Kyriel replied with confidence.

"Very well, then let's put it to the test. Here—catch," said Bertrand, tossing him a modestly sized stone.

"If you truly managed to pierce the trunk of the Eternal Apple Tree, then breaking this stone should pose no difficulty. We're watching," said Bertrand.

Kyriel grasped the stone and clenched it tightly in his hand with determination… but nothing happened. He tried again, tensing every muscle in his body, but the stone remained unscathed. Frustrated, he seized it with both hands and made one final attempt to crush it with all his strength—still to no avail.

"Impossible… Even before I met Master Keith, I was stronger than this… What's happening to me?" he thought, eyes wide with confusion and disbelief.

"You see? What you're claiming is utterly impossible," declared Bertrand in a firm tone.

"I don't know if it was that stranger you say you met who put this nonsense into your head, but it's time to stop with these fantasies," added Benjamin, visibly irritated.

"Then how do you explain the fact that his clothes are completely dry? And that he's been asleep for fourteen days? Admit it, that's strange," interjected Marie, still trying to believe in her son despite the fantastical nature of his story.

"As for the dry clothes, that could easily be the result of the stranger's Art. And the prolonged sleep—most likely a side effect of the seed he supposedly gave Kyriel," replied Bertrand confidently.

"Well, I have my own theory," said Clé, adopting a scholarly tone.

"This so-called mysterious man was probably just a vagrant or a wandering thief. Upon spotting Kyriel, he likely saw an easy target. He must have given him a hallucinogenic seed, which triggered all these imaginary events. The dry clothes could also be explained by some Art. The fourteen-day coma? A side effect of the substance he ingested. And as for the apple in his hand—perhaps the thief left it there to make the illusion more convincing… Though I admit I can't explain that last part."

"To be honest, that theory seems far more plausible," said Dylan in agreement.

"Yes, it does sound logical," added Nicole.

"Careful, Clé… You're starting to make me believe you're actually a genius," joked Chloé with a smirk.

Everyone seemed convinced by Clé's reasoning. Everyone—except Kyriel. Because while still clutching the stone his older brother had thrown at him, he had noticed something deeply troubling. The physical strength he had developed through secret training, carefully hidden from his family, had clearly diminished. And he couldn't understand why.

"That's enough!" thundered a commanding voice.

It was Grégoire, who had suddenly raised his voice, visibly exasperated.

"You've all agreed to take part in the Sword Disciples' Examination. So instead of wasting time with idle chatter, go and train! The trial is in ten days," he barked sternly.

At his command, Kyriel's siblings began leaving the house one by one.

"The Sword Disciples' Examination?" Kyriel asked, still stunned.

"Yes. The Council sent us a letter this morning. It's an official invitation to take part in the trial," replied Grégoire, his tone measured.

"But… Father, this is my chance, I could finally—"

"No!" interrupted Grégoire sharply.

"You will not take part in it. This trial is far too ambitious for someone who has not awakened their Art energy. You will stay here, with your mother and me."

Without uttering another word, Grégoire left the house as well, leaving Kyriel standing alone in the living room, frozen, his mind in turmoil. How had everything changed so suddenly?

Marie, still by his side, gently placed a hand on her son's shoulder, trying awkwardly to comfort him.

Meanwhile, in the workshop at the back of the house, Grégoire, overcome by a mix of anger and sorrow, slammed his fist down on a table, which split in two under the force of the blow.

"Argh… I had no choice," he muttered. "Kyriel, forgive me… But your power far exceeds what someone your age can endure. It's too strong to be controlled… and far too dangerous for those around you. Had I not sealed your energy, we would all be dead by now."

He took a deep breath, his gaze clouded with tears.

"Everything I do… I do for your sake, my son."

But what Grégoire didn't know was that, hidden just beyond the half-open door, a quiet child had heard every word—now the keeper of a long-buried secret.