Thalindra

Thalindra felt her body go numb at the scene before her. She had come to this meeting with a plan. But her plans were derailed the moment he stepped into the room.

From the time she saw the masked man coming out of the anthill, she concluded he was a noble. His calm demeanor and confidence were obvious giveaways to his lineage. And when it was revealed that he assassinated the Fire Ant Queen, the conclusion was obvious. Only someone trained extensively to carry out solo missions could have pulled thar off.

After all, noble houses seeded their heirs as participants in these newly integrated worlds for the rare Titles. The process was a well-guarded secret, but it essentially allowed them to harvest the most benefit from this rare opportunity.

But from that point on, every single assumption of hers fell apart.

Coming from a prominent noble house herself, Thalindra had learned how to deal with those in power—especially arrogant upstarts. It always boiled down to one thing: finding what appeased them.

For some it was flattery, others were hungry for money and power. But he seemed to want neither. Even the one constant among all nobles—the fear of those above their station—didn't sway him. It was an unspoken Multiversal law: Bow to those above. Prey on those below. That's how the game was played.

A game she had been dragged in against her will.

She had seen firsthand the cruelty and greed of her own family. And though she wanted to change that; she had no power, political or otherwise. A nobody in a house full of predatory monsters.

So, she learned to live under the radar—using politics to protect herself and those around her. She became quite good at it too. Until the fateful day when she turned 11.

Of all the Classes she could have chosen, she had picked Soulweaver and Spiritcaller. The former allowed her to calm minds and mend wounds using life mana. While the latter… she preferred not to think about it.

The reasoning of her naïve younger self in picking Soulweaver was simple: she wanted to prove to her family that every soul had infinite potential. She hoped that if she did, they might treat those below them with more dignity and respect.

But she underestimated what she thought was just a healer Class. Soulweaver let her glimpse into souls—and subtly reshape them. A power her family immediately coveted. She went from someone that was ignored, to a jealously guarded treasure. Not out of love. But greed.

Thalindra was locked up in a gilded cage. Her elders' words were sweet, but due to her soul powers clearly showed her the all-consuming greed within them. They forced her to boost the latent potential of promising heirs to let them find their Path. In the inner circles of the powerful noble houses, they had a different term for it: Soul Awakening. It was when a person managed to leave their inner soul space and achieve true mastery of themselves.

The only flaw in their grand plan was that no matter how hard she tried, she could never trigger anyone's soul to awaken. Since the barrier protecting the inner soul space could only be breached by oneself. No external force could do it.

Frustrated by her failures, the elders of her family decided to use her in a different way. To weed out any potential competition—from rival noble houses, and gifted commoners. She went from a potent elixir to a lethal weapon.

She tried resisting of course, going as far as to try to kill herself. But their grip on her was absolute. She was nothing but a tool for them, one that they couldn't afford to lose at any cost.

Even so, she bided her time patiently, waiting for any chance to break free from their clutches. But they monitored her every move like vultures. The one place they couldn't look, was within her soul, her last refuge.

Thalindra had grown to fear and hate her powers. But she hated what she was forced to do even more. Seeing no way out, she started shackling her own soul and put absolute restrictions in place, making it impossible for her to harm an enlightened individual.

But more than that, she chose to cut off her own Path. And neither would could she cross the evolution threshold.

It took Thalindra fifteen years to forge the bindings. The final push came when they tried forcing her to cull the growth potential of a five-year-old boy—Ignar. The child of someone in her family's employ. The elders feared what the boy could one day become.

The incident flared her dormant bindings in place—her defiance finally revealed to all. They were furious, but powerless to do anything. She was nothing more than a broken weapon now. Thus, she was cast aside without a second glance.

Broken and powerless, she would have lived a miserable life. But Ignar's parents knew of her sacrifice. And thus they took her in like their own daughter. And for the first time in her life, Thalindra found what she was missing: a family.

And through them she was introduced to a bigger one—the Adventurer's Guild. A group of ruffians and misfits whose bonds were forged in spilt blood and shared scars. Much like Ignar's parents, who lost their lives on one of their missions.

Thalindra was much older than Ignar, so she protected him the best she could. The Guild was very different from her restrictive life with her blood relatives. It was a group of rowdy men and women who lived as they pleased. She liked it there and would do anything to protect them. And using her political skills and healer Class—broken though it was—she had a meteoric rise to finally reach where she was now. She was with Ignar every step of the way, helping and guiding him on his path to power. But she could never truly let him achieve his one true Path. The very thing she was witnessing right now.

"We tie our fates to yours," she heard Ignar and his team declare with conviction before killing the elf.

But it wasn't the killing blows that attracted her. Thalindra's eyes were glued to the four Awakened souls. She had known them years, even trying to using her crippled Class to help them.

But she never succeeded. And yet, their new Mayor had done so with mere words. Not some Class ability like hers, or soul manipulation.

Just words infused with an Aura so visceral, she cowered just thinking about it.

And that was the scariest part—there was no forceful manipulation or intrusive influence in the man's Aura. In its place was something else entirely. Something she didn't know was even possible.

An alluring call. Like a beacon.

All he did was give them a choice. An opportunity.

And the four adventurers simply wanted to shed their inner soul space—just to get closer to him.

As for the masked man in question, he just stood there calmly, analyzing the situation. His soul was unlike anything she had seen before. A dark abyss from which nothing escaped. Even with her advanced knowledge she had honed over the years, she only managed to get glimpses of his true nature. The only thing she was certain about was that he was a soul mage.

Until now.

For just a moment, when ethereal links were being forged between his soul and the others, Lord Fenrast's soul was laid bare. She was finally able to see him. And yet again she was surprised.

There was no trace of greed, or lust for power. Just plain curiosity. Something Thalindra had not experienced before.

Soul Awakenings were rare across the Multiverse. And anyone who succeeded at it was a powerhouse in the making. And for four to occur simultaneously, there had to be a catalyst. And she had no doubt in her mind that he was the reason.

Thalindra was mesmerized by the display of power. Berserkers were a force on the battlefield, their only flaw being the loss of control. Similarly, fire mages were severely limited by the need of a conduit to harness the flames from. As for earth mages, the ground was everywhere. But it seldom yielded to the call of the caster.

If any of the noble houses were to witness this, they would pay any price to bring the four under their control. Failing which, they would stop at nothing to destroy them.

Yet the four in question had willingly submitted to one man. A man who demanded nothing in return. Except doing the right thing.

"What is your answer?" The cold detached voice of Lord Fenrast cut through the haze. As usual, there was no malice, no threat in it.

But the weight of those words nearly made her knees buckle.

"I…," she tried responding.

But couldn't. She looked deep within herself and found what was holding her back: Fear.

"You have always protected us, Lady Sylvathorn," Ignar spoke up while turning to her. If she couldn't sense that he was in control, she would have been absolutely terrified of the hulking red monstrosity before her. "You even restricted your own power to save me from a wretched fate. Your guidance has led us through some tough times. So, let me be your guide for once. I feel that this is the best way forward."

"And what of the retaliation from the elves of Glendwyr?" Thalindra asked softly.

But her voice quivered, not out of fear of the upcoming calamity. But the implications of the power Lord Fenrast exhibited.

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"What has fearing people like them ever gotten us?" Velastra scoffed, her tone bitter. "We played by their rules. We bowed in compliance; bent the knee when demanded. And yet, we lost a dear friend just to escape them. But their claws reached us all the way here too." Her voice broke, "Death would have been a mercy."

Thalindra looked away in shame, for she knew the truth behind it. She had seen Ignar's party go from one power hungry noble house to the next, trying her best to protect them using politics. But she had failed in the end. She knew she had let them down, and that is why she had so desperately tried to come here.

But the noose around their necks was ever present, getting tighter by the day.

She looked at the indifferent man before them, a naïve hope taking root in her heart. If only…

"Very well then," she said at last. "You have followed me till now. And it has not worked out for the best. This time, I will follow your advice, Ignar."

The goliath had a broad smile on his face when he heard that. She wasn't fully sold on the idea yet. But she was curious. She wanted to understand the man behind it all. The one who could lead without domination, and command people to follow without asking.

"I will follow your lead, Lord Fenrast," she said with a bow. "But know that the welfare of my people will always take precedence. That said, you have my word. I will not betray your trust, nor try any secret schemes."

"Very well then. It is settled," the man said dismissively while walking out the door with the City Admin.

Thalindra observed their departure in silent contemplation.

"How sure are you… that whoever is backing him can protect us when the tutorial ends," she asked Ignar when she was sure he couldn't hear them.

Ignar tilted his head, returning to his original form. "Backing him? What do you mean?"

"The noble house he is from," she clarified. "They must be strong indeed not to fear retaliation from Glendwyr."

Ignar chuckled. "Heh. I do not think he is a noble at all."

"What?" Thalindra blinked. "That can't be right. His bearing, his confidence—"

"I know how it sounds. But no," Ignar replied with a smile that made her uneasy. "My instincts say otherwise. I also think he's younger than we assume."

Thalindra stared at him, horrified. The implications began to settle.

"His Path," Ignar continued, his eyes on the retreating figure, "is far greater than ours. He'll reach heights we can't imagine. And I plan to stand beside him. Every step of the way."

Thalindra followed his gaze, just as Lord Fenrast turned to glance over his shoulder. His mask remained featureless, but for a second, she thought she saw something.

A knowing smile, gone before her mind could register it.

* * *

Aenon

Aenon walked down the corridor slowly. His advanced hearing allowed him to listen in on the conversation between the people in the room. And what he heard impressed him. The berserker was a perceptive one, correctly guessing his origins as well as age. But what he cared more about was Thalindra's reaction. And thankfully, he didn't detect any hint of betrayal from her. Shock and awe, sure. But she didn't consider going against him, which was a point in her favor.

Although her soul continued to puzzle him. She was obviously an Awakened too, but her soul felt…wrong. Not Corrupted or weakened by external forces. Just… weak.

He turned towards her and displayed a smile on his mask to let her know that he had heard them. But it was too brief for anyone else to notice. He then proceeded towards the mansion's main door, with Henry dutifully following behind him.

The mansion looked very different from earlier; now bustling with activity. Yet none dared to come in his path. Some even dived into random rooms when they heard him approach. He wasn't sure if it was out of reverence or fear. Probably a mix of both.

Everyone avoided him—except one.

Aenon sensed a tiny soul following them, radiating a lot of hesitation and fear. But there was something else that made Aenon stop in his tracks.

He slowly turned around to face his mini stalker. A little girl, no older than five or six, froze the moment Aenon faced her. She was clutching something behind her back and was filled with dread at having been caught. Henry was about to go talk, when Aenon stopped him with his hand.

Instead, he approached and knelt before her.

"Hello little one. You got something for me?" Aenon asked softly.

The kid started trembling in fear, clutching whatever she held tighter. The corridor was empty, and Henry was behind him. So Aenon made his mask fade away for the first time since arriving in the new city.

His gentle smile worked the way he predicted. The kid calmed down and stared in wonder, finally feeling relaxed.

"Well?" Aenon asked with an extended palm.

The kid snapped out of her shock and revealed what she was holding sheepishly. It was a crudely made bracelet of stones, held together by a frayed thread.

"I made this for you," she whispered, bowing as she held it out in both hands. "For letting my granny stay inside where it's warm. It's a good luck charm… to keep you safe."

Aenon took the bracelet gingerly, careful not to damage the already weak thread. The materials were cheap, found on any roadside. But he could feel how much it meant to her. He smiled again and reached out, softly patting her head.

"Thank you. I will treasure this greatly," he said while sliding it onto his wrist.

He also injected some mana to reinforce it, making sure it would not fall apart. The action brought a bright smile on the kid's face, who hugged him and ran down the corridor towards a room. Aenon sensed a frail old soul within it, no doubt the little girl's grandmother.

He stood up and reactivated his mask before turning towards Henry. The man had a complex look on his face, his soul a mixture of confusion and admiration. When he saw Aenon looking at him, he snapped to attention and bowed.

"You can give it to me, my liege. I will keep the trinket safe," he said while extending his hand.

"Why?" Aenon asked.

"Huh?" Henry replied with a frown. "I assumed you would not want to wear it. Merely putting it on to keep the kid happy. It will take up a gear slot otherwise."

"Nope. This is mine," Aenon replied while looking down at the odd trinket, his smile hidden beneath the mask. Like Henry said, it did take up an equipment slot, but he didn't care. This bracelet and the first copper coin he received were by far the things he treasured the most.

"Time to get down to business. Direct me towards the closest blacksmith, I need my daggers fixed," Aenon finally said while turning towards Henry.

The City Admin recovered quickly and called for someone through a crystal that was attached to his hip. It looked like the crystal that Arbiter Faelira had left behind for the Village Head, Vicent Malory, to contact her. So perhaps a communication device, like the cell phones back on Earth. They resumed their walk towards the door, where a maid was waiting for them.

It was the same one that had addressed Aenon before his breakfast. She stood attentively by the door, with her hands clasped in front of her. When they approached, Aenon detected a hint of a smile before she went back to a formal expression. Henry addressed her as they reached the door.

"You will escort Lord Fenrast to the market to help him with his chores. Start with the blacksmith," Henry said formally. "I assume you have brought the storage ring with all the supplies? Excellent."

Aenon took the ring from the woman, whose name he still didn't know, and inspected it. His eyes widened when he realized the thing had a grid of 20 by 20 for storage. When compared to his 5 by 5 inventory, this was a massive upgrade. It already had about twenty slots filled with food and other necessities like a tent, and tinder for starting a fire. He was fully capable of building his own shelter but wouldn't say no to finally having some proper camping gear. He nodded in acknowledgement towards Henry, who excused himself to go start his day meeting the long line of people.

"What's your name?" Aenon asked the maid, who was looking ahead impassively as she led the way out of the building.

"My name, sire?" she asked while stumbling, probably not expecting the question.

"Yes," Aenon replied simply.

"Miranda, sire. Although my friends call me Mira…," she slapped her lips shut in shock and horror. Bowing deep she continued hurriedly, "Forgive my insolence. I did not mean to imply…"

"You are not really a maid, are you?" Aenon asked.

"Uh, no. I mean, yes. I mean, I am a maid currently. But I wasn't until last month. I was helping my parents with their leather working shop, when I was… uh… reassigned to serve in the mansion," the woman replied uncomfortably.

That explained her odd behavior when compared to the other mansion servants. Looking at her beauty, and knowing the creep who was the previously in charge, Aenon didn't have to ask further to understand the situation.

"Let's go then," Aenon said to change the topic. She quickly fell in line ahead of him, but he could clearly tell she was kicking herself internally at her gaffe. She was probably being trained by the others in the mansion, but she had not mastered maid etiquette or behavior yet. She stumbled again when Aenon casually added, "Although, lets head over to your parents' shop first."

Aenon sensed her holding in her curiosity and not ask the question she wanted. But Aenon didn't expand on his command. He just followed in silence, as she led him on with dread. After a 15-minute walk, they finally reached a quite little part of town, where a bunch of shops were hawking their businesses. Throughout their march, the people avoided him like the plague, silently staring at him from the shadows.

"This is the shop, Lord Fenrast," she finally said while stopping before a shop that had obviously seen some better days. "May I be so bold as to ask why we're here?" she added with a lot of trepidation.

But Aenon didn't reply and just walked in. The shop was a mess, with goods scattered around haphazardly. The crafter was obviously skilled, but the shop's maintenance left a lot to be desired. Plus, there were no customers to speak of and the only attendant, a boyishly young man, was soundly asleep at the counter. The scene made Mira frown, as she looked around in sadness and worry, momentarily forgetting who she was with.

"Papa, are you there?" she called out with cupped hands. The attendant was startled awake while a commotion could be heard in the back as a disheveled man fell over various objects while making his way out.

Aenon silently receded into the background. When the man finally emerged, all he saw was his daughter.

"My sweet child. You are here," the man wept as he hugged Mira.

Looking at her father, even Mira began to cry as she started reassuring him that she was ok. That went on for about 5 minutes before Mira finally realized her position. She turned around to apologize but was stunned when she found Aenon inspecting a leather boot with intense concentration, completely ignoring the two.

"Do you have this in black," Aenon quipped when he noticed the two were finally done with their reunion and were staring at him instead.

Mira was the first to recover, "Um, yes. My father should be able to make it," she said weakly, confusion apparent on her face. His nonchalant attitude threw her off completely.

"Oh good," Aenon said as he put down the shoe and stepped a few shelves over, completely disappearing. He could clearly sense the pair's feelings but decided not to comment on it. Instead, he added, "I might take a while to peruse the goods here. Say, 60 minutes. You are free to leave and come back at your leisure."

The woman finally understood his intent, as she hurriedly came to the aisle he was in. She gave a deep bow, before running off at top speed while dragging her confused father towards the houses down the street. A confused attendant, and a silently grinning Aenon were left in the shop. The young man soon got his wits about him, as he stepped up to point out the details of any goods that Aenon picked.

After roughly 40 minutes, the poor guy breathed a sigh of relief as Mira came back with her father, and an older woman in tow. Their eyes were red and swollen but had wide smiles on their faces. As one they all bowed before Aenon, who calmly regarded them. Before they could say anything further, he spoke.

"You are free to remain with your parents," he said in a reassuring tone. But it was the father who spoke first.

"Forgive me, Lord Fenrast. But I would much rather have her serving you," the man said with another bow. "After what happened last month, I feared I'd never see her again. But you brought her home. I trust you, Lord Fenrast."

"If that is what you wish," Aenon said while nodding in acknowledgement.

"Besides, this way she will stop wrecking my precious leather," the man added with a grin which made his daughter blush.

Aenon chuckled dryly before Mira's mother too started thanking him profusely. Aenon tried his best to dismiss their concerns and stop them from thanking him. Only after he assured them that she could come and visit whenever she wished, did they manage to get themselves out of the shop. The last thing he heard before leaving was the leatherworker shouting at his hired help, a new vigor in his voice.

"Lord Fenrast…," Mira said when they were in a slightly secluded part of town. When Aenon turned to face her, she bowed yet again and said, "Thank you. For everything."

And this time there were tears dripping down on the ground. Aenon placed a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. After she wiped her tears and walked ahead, he looked at the bracelet on his wrist before looking up at the sky.

"It appears not all shackles are bad," he spoke to Bane mentally.

"No, Alpha. They are not," Bane replied from his shadow.

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