"...In a sense, yes, I am haunting your soul core, Xerxes Draedon."
The response to his question instantly startled Xerxes. Was there someone actually within his soul core—someone who had access to his own body besides himself?
The idea of that fostered a bitter taste in Xerxes' mouth. Sweat began forming on Xerxes as he looked left and right, as if seeing anything would give him answers, but there was nothing he could surmise from his surroundings.
He tried to stay relaxed. Perhaps it was just another one of the mysteries the soul core had upon reaching Tier 5.
However, Xerxes couldn't hide all of his emotions beneath a poker face. His muscles were turning to stone, his breath trapped in his lungs like prisoners. The presence of this enigmatic figure pinned him into place, not with chains, but with the crushing weight of superiority.
"Are we lost for words, Xerxes?" The unmoved voice questioned, adding to his already existing animosity.
Xerxes immediately looked at the different pillars that were glowing, as if reading Xerxes' physical mannerisms like they were scripted to him.
Then, despair truly set into Xerxes' very essence as the voice's authority sank into the room.
"Don't look at the other pillars, Xerxes; look at me! By my will."
An unforgettable feeling thrashed through Xerxes' body. There was nothing but despondency and hopelessness in Xerxes when attempting to control his actions.
His body became stiff, and it unwillingly began moving towards the amethyst crystal. Then, the next command rang through Xerxes' head as his movements became dictated for him once more.
"Kneel. By my will."
Xerxes' legs buckled as his knees crashed against the marble floor, his eyes widening at the silhouette of the figure within the crystal.
Sheathed in a darker shade of purple, shadows hovered around the image of a male no older than his twenties. His presence demanded authority and exuded power, with one distinct feature being clear.
His eyes.
They were the colour of a dying twilight—deep and unnaturally violet. The kind that didn't belong in any gaze that could be considered ordinary. His pupils were thin, razor-sharp slits that cut through the purple like fractures in stained glass.
They didn't blaze with fury—they didn't need to. There was something more underlying. More callous. A slow, coiled wrath, patient as a serpent and just as chilling.
"I should thank you first, Xerxes Draedon. If not for your insolence and foolishness, then I wouldn't have been awakened for such a long time. Destiny works in paradoxical ways. Don't you think?"
Without any regard for the man's question, Xerxes yelped against the invisible hands that felt like they were pressed firmly across his throat.
"Who... who are you?!" Xerxes yelped through the resistance of the spell on his body.
"My true name is not of importance. If you truly wish to understand more of what—or who—I am, then you must leave the Truth Kingdom within three months. You are to leave with Leiya Truth; she is a key component in all of what is to come."
Xerxes' mind was in disarray. There was nothing that could be recollected from these words, so the only thing Xerxes could do was barrage him with questions.
"What? What do you mean? What is there to come? Why does it have to be three months?"
"Unfortunately, child, I am forbidden to stay in the waking world for such a duration of time. However, I assure you, this won't be the first nor the last time you meet with me. I expect to see you, and as thanks for waking me, I will provide you with the correct amendment for your strength."
"Do not speak of me, nor this conversation. By my will."
Xerxes' vision cracked, as if a mirror was being shattered, as Xerxes reached out a hand.
"I still need answers—I NEED TO KNOW WHO I AM, WHERE I CAME FR—"
But it was too late. His consciousness had migrated back to reality, as he caught himself saying these same words aloud, his hand outstretched to the sky.
A tremor coursed through his chest, his heartbeat quickening like a warning bell before a storm.
For some reason, melancholy settled in. Xerxes had often felt like this. He had the inkling that this strange person knew of who—or what—he was.
So why? Why did it feel like, at the last moment of achieving something, it was taken from his hands?
Just like Aya had. Just like Dorian. Would the Truth family be taken from him, too? Would he be forced to walk away, unravelling yet another thread that held him together?
Maybe he was never meant to belong anywhere. In a truthful sense.
Maybe the darkness was his true inheritance—the void carved into his soul, not as punishment, but as fuel. Fuel for the fire he needed to keep walking forward.
Airi immediately looked at Xerxes, concern evident in her voice as she noticed his sombre expression. It wasn't only his expression; she could feel the emptiness as if it were physical.
"Xerxes, what happened? Are you okay?"
The words rang like a bell in his head: 'Do not speak of me, nor this conversation. By my will.'
Did he want to keep this a secret from her? Did it even matter? She could read his mind, couldn't she? So there would be no point in hiding it from her—after all, they were one and the same.
No matter how hard he tried to suppress his thoughts, she would have her suspicions, which meant that Airi had to know. It was the only way.
He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice shallow with how powerless he was—how inferior he felt.
Xerxes opened up, and to his surprise, no one else had heard his previous scream of agony. Airi listened intently, nodding along with all the information that was provided.
She peered into his eyes. "Xerxes, I will keep this secret. I can immediately understand that, even if I wanted to share this information, something would happen to me—to my body and my soul. You mentioned that he said 'by my will'—I... I think I recognise it."
Xerxes' mind was fractured. However, Airi's connection to at least one part of the information glued some of the pieces back together. She pondered for a while, as if recalling something that might help.
"It was a quote—yes, that's where it's from. I recognise it, but I don't remember too much. All I know is that the phrase 'by my will' belongs to something—or someone—called 'Ezurewrath .'"
'Ezurewrath ,' he muttered under his breath. It didn't bring back any memories, any sort of links that he knew of. Never in the library, never mentioned by any other adventurer—so he concluded that this must be from somewhere he hadn't visited or even knew of.
"Airi, I can't help but shake the feeling that... that the person is always watching. I'm not sure. He said he can't stay in the 'waking world' for too long. He said I awakened him, or something along those lines."
She finished his thought. "So what you're concerned about is what exactly you awakened—and how? You see, similar to my past, I understand that questions without any direction are meaningless. But if what Aemon said was right—if you understand the truth of why you couldn't be read by his eyes—then maybe we will find out more."
"Don't dwell on it too much; it will only lead to doubt and more suffering for yourself. Instead, let us focus on the positive, shall we not? And.."
"And what, Airi?" he asked.
She radiated warmth, joy, and pride as she grinned. "I am 'destined' to you, am I not? So I am ultra-stylish, cool, and amazing. You should be thanking me I'm here."
"I never knew flaming birds could be narcissists," he mused.
She rebutted, "I never knew humans could have sleep paralysis demons in their soul cores."
Xerxes sighed and looked down. Airi immediately felt guilty.
"Quite the low blow? I apologise..."
"Yeah, right. If I was out there in the Fallen Kingdom any longer, I would have made you into scrambled eggs," he grinned.
They both looked at each other and giggled for a while, which lightened Xerxes' mood considerably as he held Airi and embraced her, with her sharing the same warmth and reciprocation of love.
While hugging her, he definitely noticed a significant increase in his strength—even the speed at which his hands had moved forward to reach for Airi. Had the man been true in his word, granting him more strength? Or was this simply the by-product of his ascension to a Tier 5 mage?
His answer came quickly, as a voice rang in his head:
[Mana Type: Fire (awakened), Wind (awakened), Water (dormant) and Earth (dormant).]
[Sword Style: The style of the Ezurewrath (novice) ]
[Soul shards: Orc soul shard: Rank: Ascendant]