Now he stood outside a old house, built of what seemed to be a wall made of bricks and covered in once white pain that had now turned yellowish after years of being exposed to the powerful rays of the sun, those very ones that tend to destroy almost everything when given enough time.
Avere had no real feelings towards this place, the Sekaria, Cades, had really done a great job holding the other two consciousnesses back, they had barely become a voice in the back of his head, causing him to become even more apathetic towards it all, neither cracking a smile, nor really feeling sad at all, as he heard a scream coming from one of the houses, the very one he had first felt his vision being drawn to.
At first he had also wondered why he had appeared outside, not within the house where Rondel had found his own dead sister, dead because of his, sadly, wrong notes, something he had repressed so far he hadn't even been aware of it himself anymore, but he did not mind it, especially since the alternative would have been to be called a murderer by a panicked young boy capable of using quite the powerful magic that was now dealing with his parents that should be awoken, this having, or being, or simply just taking place in the early morning where they, as was normal on a free day, had been asleep.
He looked at the blade now, not being entirely certain when he had even called for it, or if he had even somehow called for it, but this time, seeing that the blade was changing forms it had simply taken the form of a small butter-knife, dull and practically useless in any situation, one of those that would struggle to even just cut butter if he was entirely honest.
Not that it completely succeeded this time, the screms of the still young boy permeating through the area, waking some other people and causing them to look outside, with Avere quickly hiding the blade so they would not suspect him of something he had no influence over, if he was even able to try and change things in here.
This thing, this occurrence, however terrible it had been, was also the very thing that had pushed Rondel onto his truly journey, that had made him take the icy arrow spell as his specialty, the spell that had killed his sister, the spell she had given her life for, the spell he had perfected and even hurt a dragon using.
It was truly saddening, even to him, though he did not show it as the parents now also began screaming, the mother starting to cry and break down, not ready to bury her own daughter in the slightest, the father still screaming, trying to be tough and not let himself break down as well, Rondel, the one that had had slightly longer than the others just staring with an open mouth, unblinking, not breathing, not even really thinking about anything, just suffering, just taking it all in, not even yet realizing that it had, in small, or perhaps big, part, been his very own fault.
And at that the tired old man inside him, Rondel who had lived a whole life here, screamed, his entire soul hurting, but none of that pain reaching the soul of Cades that, in the current situation, where he had taken in the most of the new experiences, where he had become Avere to the greatest degree, where he had even been supported by the Sekaria, was the ruler of this body in the simplest of terms.
Truly, Avere was Cades, but Cades, the one that had broken down atop the wooden island, just after leaving it, right on that accursed chain that had brought him to the weird island where he had made the prosthesis that had later turned out to be a complete waste of space, he was someone different, but he was still made of Cades, just as Arges had been born of that, just as Rondel's most basic soul had come from Cades, though it had been washed over through and through and turned into something that could better be called completely different.
He sighed, pushing himself off of the old wall he had been leaning on, a few friends of the family that had been rather popular up until now running through the empty space between the few other houses in here, mostly yellowish as well, made in medieval style with some wood brought into it, the roofs made in the form of a triangle and with reddish old roofing that shone in the bright sun.
One of the people accidentally hitting Avere as he ran through this place, struggling and visibly worried, both gave some warmth into Avere's heart, and gave relaxation, the slightest bit, to Rondel's rampaging old psyche.
But, still, Avere did not care all that much, he felt alone, he felt tired, he felt bored as he stared straight into the burning sun, feeling his eyes trying to avoid it, seeing the dancing light reflected on the crimson roofs, hearing the screams and shouts of the people struggling to try and save an already dead body without even knowing the first bit about how to help in such a situation, not that she could have still been helped, it later turning out she had already been gone for a few hours, nobody in that world capable of doing anything for them anymore.
He took a deep breath, feeling the knife he was concealing, holding it tightly in his hand as it had once more changed shape, now cutting deep into his left hand, causing some blood to drip down now, in this lone street, with just a few people starting out, gawking from high windows on things that should not concern him as he felt Rondel, the one who had just seen his sister dead, completely break down when he saw what her corpse had been holding all this time, his notes.
And with that, finally, Avere started walking ahead, already knowing he would be soon to be called to the last, and perhaps the worst situation, one where he should definitely not be able to relax easily from what he knew.