The room felt silent.
Far too silent.
Only the steady ticking of the wall clock could be heard, its rhythm slow as if it too were holding its breath. And the moment Edward stepped into the main hall, he immediately understood the reason behind this suffocating hush.
Grandmaster Altheon was already there. He sat upright in a large chair behind a long table made of ancient wood, positioned near a wide window that let in the faint light of morning. Standing beside him was Silvia, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her.
Both wore serious expressions. Very serious.
There was none of the usual warm smile that graced the Grandmaster's face. None of the gentle greeting Silvia always offered. Even she—who normally welcomed him with a smile or a light joke to ease the mood—now only stood gazing at him in silence, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and a tension that was hard to name.
A bad premonition spread through Edward's entire body, cold and slow, tightening around his chest. He swallowed hard, his mouth feeling dry and bitter, and when he finally spoke, his voice came out slightly hoarse.
"Has something happened?"
No one answered.
Altheon simply looked at him. For a long time. A very long time. Each passing second felt like an hour, as if time itself had stopped moving in that room. The old man's gaze felt different—not like that of a wise teacher guiding his student, nor like a grandfather looking upon someone with affection. Instead, it was the look of someone weighing something of immense gravity, considering a decision whose consequences could alter the entire course of the young man's life.
At last, the Grandmaster let out a long sigh—a sound that carried the weight of years of kept secrets. The lines on his already weathered face seemed to deepen, as if he had aged ten years in a matter of seconds.
"It is time you learned part of the truth."
The words were spoken softly, yet they felt heavy enough to make the already still air grow even tighter and more oppressive.
Part of the truth.
Not all of it.
The phrase echoed in Edward's mind. It meant there was still much hidden, still pieces of the story he was not yet permitted to know. And for some reason, that very realization made his heart beat faster, a sense of unease and uncertainty settling deeper into his thoughts.
Altheon stood slowly. His slightly hunched back appeared stiff, as if bearing an invisible burden. He then turned his gaze toward the corner of the room, where four of the orphanage children had been quietly watching from a distance.
"Alice. Thomas. Alex. Serly," he called out, his voice calm yet firm—raised not a fraction, but commanding nonetheless.
The four children immediately straightened up, holding their breath as if afraid to disturb the moment. "Yes, Grandmaster?" Thomas answered on their behalf, his voice trembling slightly.
"I wish to speak with Edward alone," Altheon said simply.
Thomas nodded in understanding, though his eyes clearly burned with curiosity—just like the faces of his three companions. They knew that when the Grandmaster asked for privacy, it meant something important that was not meant for just anyone's ears.
One by one, they stepped out of the room, moving quietly without making a single sound. Alice was the last to cross the threshold. Before she left completely, the little girl glanced back at Edward, her round eyes wide with worry.
"Edward, you'll be alright, won't you?" she asked softly, almost a whisper.
Edward forced a faint smile, trying to appear calm even as his own heart raced. "Of course," he replied.
Yet even he did not quite believe the words he had just spoken.
The door slowly closed, shutting out the faint light from the hallway beyond. Now only three remained inside: Edward, Silvia, and Altheon. And in that instant, the silence that enveloped them felt far heavier, far more pressing—as if the very air in the room had joined in holding its breath.
Before the Grandmaster could speak, Edward found his own voice first. It was steady, yet carried a tension that could not be hidden.
"What really happened when I collapsed?"
The question slipped out without much thought. It was the one thing he had wanted to know most, the thought that had circled endlessly in his mind for days.
The Awakening Hall had been reduced to rubble. People had fled in terror. Ever since that day, others had begun to keep their distance, looking at him with suspicion or even fear. Yet no one—not the teachers, the guardians, nor the elders—had ever truly explained why.
Altheon fell silent. His eyes were fixed upon the old wooden table before him, as if searching for answers hidden within its grain. His voice came out heavy when he finally spoke. "Something that should never have occurred."
Edward frowned deeply. The answer was vague, only serving to make everything more confusing rather than bringing clarity.
"What do you mean?" he pressed, unwilling to stop halfway.
Altheon slowly lifted his head. And for the first time since Edward had known the old man as someone always firm and certain… he saw something rarely shown: doubt.
"I have lived for more than seventy years," Altheon began, his gaze locking directly onto Edward's eyes.
"I know," Edward replied simply.
"I have witnessed thousands of Awakenings—from the weakest, to those said to border on legend."
Edward nodded faintly. "That is why you are trusted as Grandmaster—you understand this better than anyone."
Altheon offered a faint smile, one that did not quite reach his grey eyes. But it quickly faded, replaced by a profound seriousness.
"And in all my long life…" The old man's voice grew softer, almost a heavy whisper. "…I have never seen what happened to you."
The room fell silent once more. It was a silence that felt thick, as if holding a great secret too dangerous to be spoken aloud, hanging in the air between the three of them.
Altheon opened an old leather satchel that looked as though it had been his companion for decades. Slowly, he drew out a book.
It was extremely ancient. Its cover was made of hardened, cracked leather, with parts frayed at the edges. The corners of its pages were blackened and scorched, as if they had once been touched by intense fire. Several sheets were missing entirely, leaving empty gaps between the remaining text. It appeared as though this book had once been deliberately destroyed—both by time and by the hands of those who wished to erase its contents.
Edward studied it with growing curiosity.
"What is that?" he asked quietly.
"Old records," Altheon answered briefly.
"About?"
Altheon raised his head, looking straight into the young man's eyes.
"About people like you."
Edward froze in place.
People like you.
The words echoed in his mind, leaving behind a large question mark. What did he mean? What made him different from everyone else?
The Grandmaster opened to one of the pages that remained intact. The writing within was so faded it had turned a pale brown, almost blending into the aged paper itself. Yet here and there, a few letters could still be made out clearly.
"In this world…" Altheon began to explain, his tone careful and heavy. "…not all Awakenings follow the normal path."
Edward remained quiet, listening closely to every word.
"Most people, when they undergo Awakening, will manifest an elemental power—fire, water, earth, or wind. Or they will discover a specific talent and path in life: becoming a Knight, a Healer, a Rune Scribe, and many others."
Edward nodded slowly. This was basic knowledge taught to every child from a young age—something everyone knew well.
"But throughout all recorded history…" Altheon continued, his voice dropping even lower. "…there have been a few individuals who are different."
"Different how?" Edward asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
The old man closed the book slowly, as if it pained him to leave its contents exposed. Then he spoke a single word—softly, yet clearly audible throughout the room.
"Vessel."
The word sounded strange, utterly unfamiliar. Edward had never heard it in any of his lessons, nor in any of the stories he had been told.
Beside him, Silvia visibly tensed. Her shoulders, which had been slightly hunched, stiffened, and her expression revealed deep unease.
Edward immediately noticed her reaction. He turned to look at her.
"You know of this?" he asked.
Silvia looked away, staring at the floor, and did not utter a single word.
Altheon resumed speaking, breaking the tension that had begun to settle heavily.
"A Vessel is not an element. Nor is it a profession. And it is certainly not merely a talent."
"Then what is it?" Edward asked again, growing more confused.
The Grandmaster paused for a moment, his gaze staring blankly ahead as if carefully choosing the right words to speak.
"A Vessel is a container," he finally answered.
"A container?"
"A vessel for something far greater than itself."
Edward felt his throat turn dry in an instant. He swallowed hard, trying to moisten his mouth, which had suddenly tasted bitter.
"A certain power…" Altheon spoke slowly, emphasizing each syllable. "…resides within the body of a Vessel. Sometimes that power brings great hope to many. At other times, it brings unimaginable disaster. And often, the origin of that very power is unknown to anyone at all."
Edward went still.
One by one, the fragments of what he had experienced began to piece together into a vague yet terrifying picture. The Awakening Hall crumbling in an instant. The pair of red eyes that haunted his dreams. The mysterious voices whispering in his mind. The strange symbol that appeared on his palm only to vanish just as quickly.
His heart began to race faster and faster, pounding so hard it almost hurt against his chest.
"So I…" His voice broke, barely able to finish the sentence.
Altheon nodded slowly, his expression filled with deep concern.
"In all likelihood."
Only two words were spoken. Yet they struck like lightning on a clear day, shaking the very foundation of everything Edward had always believed about himself.
In all likelihood.
It meant he was not an ordinary person. Not someone who had undergone Awakening like everyone else.
Instead, he was something different. Something that even the Grandmaster—who had lived for seventy years—seemed afraid and uncertain to fully explain.
Edward looked down.
His hands were clenched tightly beneath the table, his nails almost piercing the skin of his palms. He struggled to suppress the trembling that spread from his fingertips all the way up to his shoulders. Until now, everything that had happened to him had always had an explanation, always followed rules that could be understood. But this time, everything felt blurred, as if he were walking through thick fog with no sense of where his steps were leading.
"Why me?"
The words came out so softly they were almost like a whisper on the wind. Yet in the quiet room, every syllable rang clear—enough to settle the air into complete stillness once more. Even the flame of the candle in the corner seemed to pause in its movement for a moment.
Altheon fell silent.
For a very long time.
Time seemed to slow down, as if each second carried its own heavy weight. The Grandmaster looked at him with a deep gaze—not the look of a teacher who held all the answers, but the look of a man who was also struggling to make sense of something beyond his understanding. Then, in a calm yet heavy tone, he answered honestly.
"I do not know."
Edward slowly lifted his head. His eyes widened in disbelief.
Shock. Pure and utter shock.
For the first time in his life, he heard those words coming from this man. Grandmaster Altheon—possessor of vast knowledge, someone regarded as almost infallible, the one everyone turned to when they were confused—was admitting that he did not know. Something that had always seemed impossible was now standing right before him.
"I do not know why you were chosen," Altheon continued, his voice remaining steady yet sincere. "I do not know how it happened. I do not even know what truly resides within you."
This honesty felt heavier than any lie ever could.
If Altheon had lied, offering some complicated reason or speaking of a written destiny, perhaps Edward could have clung to something. But this reality left him standing in total uncertainty. It meant no one truly understood his situation. No one could guide him with any certainty. Not even Altheon himself.
The old man turned to another page in the ancient book. The paper had yellowed with age, and felt so fragile it seemed it might crumble away with nothing more than a breath.
"There is only one thing we know for certain."
"What is it?" Edward asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Long ago, there existed a power that nearly destroyed the world."
It felt as though a cold wind had seeped straight into his bones. Edward immediately recalled the burning city from his dreams—the crimson sky, the trembling earth, and the screams that were swallowed up by roaring flames.
"This power…"
Altheon nodded slowly. Shadows deepened across his face.
"Its name has been erased from most of history."
"Erased?"
"Countless records were destroyed. Documents were burned. Even the ancient kingdoms agreed to forbid any mention of it forever."
"Why?"
Altheon's expression grew grave, as if he were gazing upon events that had taken place thousands of years ago.
"Because humanity was afraid."
The words hung heavy and tangible in the air. They reminded Edward of what the Grandmaster had said only a few days before: Human fear is far more dangerous than any monster.
Unconsciously, as if drawn by an invisible force, Edward reached out toward the old book. His fingers brushed the surface of the fragile page, marked with lines of writing that had become nearly illegible.
And then something happened.
In an instant.
The faded script began to glow faintly, as if waking from a long slumber. Edward stared in disbelief. Red and blue light swirled between the ancient letters, turning slowly until it formed a symbol he knew all too well.
The symbol that had appeared in the Awakening Hall.
The symbol that had appeared clearly in his dreams.
The symbol that had even faintly appeared on his own skin.
Edward's heart raced, and his breath caught in his throat. Amidst the glowing letters, a single word slowly emerged—or at least, part of one.
EQUIL…
Edward narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, trying to make out the hidden part more clearly. But before he could see the remaining letters, the light vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Just like that. The book returned to its old, quiet, ordinary state.
"Edward?"
Silvia's voice pulled him back to the present. He turned to see her watching him with a furrowed brow.
"Is something wrong?"
Edward blinked several times, trying to steady his racing heart. Altheon also looked confused, his eyes fixed on the page as if he could not understand why the young man's face had turned so pale. They had seen nothing. Not a single thing.
"Nothing…" Edward murmured softly. "Nothing at all."
But deep within his heart, in its most hidden corner, he knew something had just occurred. An ancient secret had spoken, and he alone had been permitted to hear it.
The conversation continued well into the afternoon.
Edward asked many questions—about the past, about the power hidden within him, about what would become of him. Yet the answers he received were few, only fragments of information that raised even more questions in their wake.
Finally, Altheon stood slowly. His back seemed more hunched than before, his face etched with lines that appeared even deeper. He looked exhausted—not merely physically, but as if he had been carrying an invisible, heavy burden for a very long time.
"There is a decision I must make," he said quietly but firmly.
An uncomfortable feeling crept into Edward's chest. "A decision?"
Altheon nodded slowly. "Starting today, you will be placed under the watch of the mages."
Edward understood immediately what lay behind those words.
Watch. A word that sounded gentler, more polite, than the truth that crossed his mind. Yet its meaning remained the same.
He was being considered dangerous. Not because he had committed any crime, not because he had ever harmed anyone. But simply because no one—not even the Grandmaster—knew what truly dwelled within him.
And for the first time in his life, even though he was still within the walls of what he considered his home, even though no chains bound his hands or feet, Edward felt like a prisoner.
Night fell.
The orphanage grew quiet once more, wrapped in soft darkness. All the children had fallen asleep in their rooms, and only the distant ticking of the wall clock could be heard from the hallway.
Edward sat alone on the edge of his bed, gazing up at the vast night sky visible through the gap in the window. The stars twinkled faintly, but they did nothing to calm his swirling thoughts.
Vessel.
Ancient power.
A secret erased from history.
All of it circled endlessly in his mind. The more he tried to understand, the more he felt trapped in a boundless, thick fog. Every answer felt too vague, too full of riddles.
At last, he let out a long breath, trying to steady his heartbeat. Slowly, he opened the palm of his left hand and stared at its smooth surface.
And he froze.
The red-and-blue symbol he had seen before had appeared again. This time it was far clearer than ever—its lines sharp and distinct, looking completely real. A soft light pulsed gently against his skin—once, twice, three times—as if it had a rhythm and life of its own.
Then, slowly but steadily, something began to form directly beneath the symbol. Fine lines of glowing light appeared, arranging themselves into letters one by one. They formed so quietly, as if afraid to disturb the silence of the night. Until at last, two words became clear:
Find Me
Edward's eyes widened. His breath caught instantly, as if the air around him had vanished.
"What…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
He raised his right hand and slowly reached toward the glowing writing. But before his fingertips could even brush the surface of his skin, the symbol and words suddenly faded, vanishing without a trace as if they had never existed at all.
All that remained was a silence that felt heavier than before, and a new question—one far more terrifying than anything he had faced until now.
Who was trying to find him?
Or perhaps…
who was asking him to find them?
And for the first time since all these strange events had begun, Edward felt something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The mystery surrounding him was not quietly approaching from a distance. Instead… it was calling his name, calling him to step forward.