'What is she doing here?'
'Why is she here?'
'How the heck did she get here?'
Most people think meeting an Awakened is like meeting a celebrity, and most times it is, but that wasn't what was happening in Adriel's case. He didn't feel even an iota of excitement, happiness, or any emotion like that.
The only thing he felt was…
Fear—pure, unfiltered fear—with a touch of confusion. But for someone frozen by an awakened being, that was perfectly normal.
He couldn't even roll his eyes—trapped in his own body like a prisoner. He was a statue—a living, breathing statue.
"Did you see The Merchant here?" a soft voice floated into Adriel's ears.
Adriel instinctively opened his mouth to answer, or at least he tried to, unsuccessfully. He still couldn't move an inch of his body, and just stared at the ground in absolute silence.
SNAP
The sound of fingers snapping echoed in the silence.
Suddenly, Adriel felt life surge back into his body—at least from the neck upward. His fingers still refused to move, his limbs remained dead weight, but his head… his head obeyed. Slowly, he lifted his chin, his eyes catching sight of the figure that stood before him.
Violet hair spilled down her back like a silken waterfall, catching the faintest glimmer of light. Her eyes—a piercing shade of amethyst—seemed to glow, faint but undeniable, as if something otherworldly burned behind them. Her skin held the pale radiance of moonlight, soft and ethereal, framing a face so impossibly perfect it felt less born and more sculpted, a work of divine artistry that had somehow taken human form…
'Yep, it's her. Definitely her. The crazy woman from earlier.' Adriel thought, half terrified, half bewildered.
"Did you see The Merchant here?" She asked again slowly, interrupting his train of thought.
"Mhmm?" he mumbled reflexively, before freezing as her gaze met his.
Those eyes — violet and luminescent — seemed to erase everything else from existence, like an abyss that sucked one's soul the longer you gaze into it.
"The man in the hooded cloak," she clarified slowly, "marked with silver and gold inscriptions? Did you see him?"
Adriel breathed in deeply and managed a small nod.
"Good," she said evenly. "Do you know where he is now?"
"No," Adriel answered, doing his best to sound polite.
"Did you see him leave?"
He nodded again.
"Words," she said flatly.
"He… disappeared," Adriel said after a moment's hesitation.
She tilted her head to the right, eyes narrowing slightly as if reading unseen letters in the air.
'That explains why I sensed his aether signature moments ago… Seems I'm already too late.'
Meanwhile, Adriel — who could still only move his head — stared at her helplessly, inwardly praying she'd remember to release him from whatever sorcery had turned his body into a breathing corpse.
"Did you speak to him?" she asked suddenly, her focus snapping back to him.
"Yeah, I did," he replied cautiously.
"About what?" Her voice carried a faint edge of curiosity this time.
"I, uh… we had a deal. A transaction," Adriel muttered.
Her gaze didn't waver.
"I bought something from him," he added quickly.
"Hand it over." She said in a tone that left no room for negotiations.
Adriel tried to pull the daggers from their sheath — and failed miserably. His fingers refused to obey, locked stubbornly in place.
He lifted his head with effort, meeting the woman's gaze with a blank stare. For a moment, he could've sworn he saw it — a faint smirk tugging at her lips. Subtle, but undeniable.
'Is she enjoying this?' he thought, asking no one in particular.
After a few seconds of silence, he finally gathered the nerve to speak.
"I can't move my body."
"Really? Why is that?" she asked, with an innocent expression plastered all over her face.
'Tch, she's definitely enjoying this…'
"I really don't know why, miss—I really don't know," he said flatly.
The lady then snapped her fingers and—
THUD
Adriel crashed face-first into the ground like a sack of potatoes. Sensation flooded his limbs all at once, his nerves screaming back to life. He could move again — though the disorienting rush left him clumsy and aching.
'There was no need to be that violent,' he thought with growing resentment. 'You could've just slowed my fall with your Awakened powers or something…'
Footsteps drew closer. A moment later, he felt one of the daggers being pulled from his waist.
"The Merchant sold you this…"
'Damn sadist, you could collect the daggers all this while and instead asked me to do it and simply watched as I tried and tried and tried to move my body while I was under a damn seal, huh? Wait, she's not even bothering to hide her smile. Just wait for me to awaken, I swear I will beat your ass, you…'
"...piece of shit, huh?"
'...godforsaken… Wait a minute—what do you mean by 'sold me this piece of shit'?'
"Miss, what do you mean by 'sold you this piece of shit'?" Adriel asked, forcing his voice through the agonizing pain in his temple. He slowly hauled himself upright, bracing against the wall for support.
She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you know these daggers explode if used repeatedly?"
"Whew… yeah, I know that," he said, inwardly relieved it wasn't worse than he expected.
"And you still bought them?" she asked, amused.
"Yeah."
"You are one weird but interesting person," she said with a light smile.
WHOOSH
A blur tore through the air at breakneck speed. Every nerve in Adriel's body screamed danger; he ducked reflexively as a high, metallic tang rang in his ears. He peered up, cold sweat prickling down his spine, and watched a dagger bury itself in the wall, less than three inches above his head—its handle still vibrating like a trapped heartbeat.
'That—That's my dagger. She just tried to kill me… she—'
"I look forward to your awakening…" her voice rang out in the silence as she walked away. "...and the subsequent beating of my ass."
She folded into a streak of lightning and vanished into the sky, leaving Adriel frozen—staring after her in stunned disbelief.
"Shit…"
—
The door opened without hassle, and Adriel stepped into the house unceremoniously.
The sound of footsteps and clanging of dishes originating from the kitchen caused him to involuntarily pause in his tracks. He glanced at the centre table, where three boxes of different sizes were placed. His eyes trailed to the door side, where a pair of feminine shoes were arranged neatly — a pair that hadn't been there when he left earlier.
'She's here,' he concluded, resuming his stride like a video unpaused—though this time, his path veered toward the kitchen.
"Five sixteen," he muttered, glancing at the wall clock above the rarely used dining table.
'Tch, I could have gotten home earlier. I still can't believe that pulling that dagger from the wall was so hard,' he thought irritably, shuddering at the thought of what would have happened if the dagger had hit its intended target.
'I still don't know which one is more believable — that she can somehow read minds, or that she tried to murder me because of my inner thoughts. Like, for real, they are called inner thoughts for a reason. Have some respect…'
He finally arrived at the kitchen after cursing the strange Awakened lady for the umpteenth time in a row.
'Yeah, she's here,' he murmured inwardly, the words echoing in the quiet of his mind as his gaze settled on the figure standing in the kitchen.
Her straight silver hair cascaded down her back like a moonlit waterfall, every strand shimmering faintly under the soft glow of the lights.
Her form was a harmony of grace and quiet strength—curves drawn as if by a patient hand, balanced and serene, the kind of beauty that didn't demand attention yet held it effortlessly.
Then she turned—slow, deliberate—and the world seemed to still. His dark gray eyes met hers, a silver hue both deep and inviting—the kind of gaze one could easily get lost in.
Her face was the final stroke of divine artistry—flawless, serene, and almost unreal in its perfection. Every detail, from the delicate curve of her lips to the tranquil symmetry of her features, spoke of a beauty too precise for mortal hands, as though the heavens themselves had sculpted her in a moment of reverent silence.
"Oh, you're back…" she said, a bright smile blooming on her face—one that could light even the darkest depths of Hell.
"Mhmm. You're still alive — interesting," Adriel replied flatly, crossing the doorway and stepping fully into the kitchen.
"Come on, is that how you greet your mother?" she teased, walking toward him with a light, unbothered step.
"Yep. Especially one who vanishes for two days without a word…"
Before he could finish, she pulled him into a tight embrace.
SMOOCH
Then another. And another. By the time he blinked, his face was covered in a flurry of unwanted affection — kisses raining faster than he could dodge.
"So, how have you been?" she asked sweetly, her smile lingering like sunshine after a storm.
"Fine… Good. Great," he muttered barely, trying not to grimace at the sheer cringe of her overwhelming affection.
'I'm lucky that no one else is here — the amount of aura that would have been lost tragically…'
"So, where were you earlier?" she asked, turning back toward him with casual ease.
"I think I should be the one asking questions," he said sharply, meeting her gaze head-on.
"Mhmm, I'm sure yours would be more interesting," she replied, her eyes flicking toward the twin daggers strapped across his waist.
"Heh. Interesting? No — it's unbelievable," he said, a thin smile tugging at his lips as he moved to the dining table and sat in silence, waiting. Moments later, his mother emerged from the kitchen and took the seat opposite him — and just like that, the conversation began.
After nearly an hour of back-and-forth, the room fell silent.
Adriel grabbed a cup of water that had been placed on the table sometime in the middle of the chat and took a long sip. He placed the cup back on the table and looked into his mother's silver eyes that stared at him.
"Even nine-year-olds could weave better lies than you," she said, finally breaking the silence.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"I never said I don't believe you."
"You obviously don't believe me — but that's okay. After all, it wouldn't be unbelievable if it was believable, would it?"
"Heh. Why wouldn't I believe that you simply went out for a walk, met a mysterious merchant who vanished into thin air, bought a pair of daggers that are apparently literal bombs, and also happened to meet a powerful Lightning Awakened — all in under two hours? Of course I believe you, AD¹."
"Tch."
Adriel had conveniently left out the part where the lady had tried to kill him because of his inner thoughts.
"Anyway," he said, leaning back, "where exactly were you for the past two days?"
"At a friend's."
STARE
LONG STARE
LONG DISBELIEVING STARE
"You seriously expect me to believe that bullcrap?"
"Well, it's at least believable — unlike your bullshit" she replied with a shrug.
"Fair enough…" he muttered, then smirked faintly. "It's not like you have any friends, though."
She gasped dramatically. "What's that supposed to mean, 'like I have any'?"
"Who was the friend?"
"Mhmm?"
"Who was the friend?"
"Well, she was a… umm…"
"Whatever," he said dryly, waving it off.
"Do you mind if I take a look at those daggers, AD?"
"Yeah, sure," he said, unstrapping them with casual ease. He placed the twin sheathed daggers on the table and reached for a glass of water.
She stretched out her hand and picked one up, unsheathing it in a single, smooth motion. The blade caught the light — a faint metallic gleam running across its surface. She turned it over carefully, her eyes narrowing in silent thought.
After a moment of quiet inspection, she finally spoke.
"Mhmm… it seems to be a—"
COUGH COUGH
"You okay?" Adriel asked, glancing over as the glass filled up.
"Yeah, I'm—"
COUGH COUGH COUGH
Her words broke off as a violent fit of coughing wracked her body. She instinctively raised her left hand to cover her mouth.
"Mom? You okay?" Adriel asked again, worry spreading all over his face.
"Don't worry, son, I'm…" she said, pausing for a brief moment as she stared into the hand she had just removed from her mouth before continuing, "…fine. I'm fine."
"You don't seem fine," he said, approaching with concern written all over his face.
"Don't worry, son, I'm fine," she insisted, lifting a hand to halt him mid-step, her back still turned. With her other hand, she reached for a serviette on the table, dabbing her lips before quickly folding the fabric into her palm.
"See, I told you I'm fine — just a little cough," she said, finally turning toward him with a faint, reassuring smile — her left hand still clenched tightly around the serviette.
Adriel hesitated but said nothing. He simply stepped closer and handed her the glass of water. She accepted it with a grateful nod.
"Thank you."
He watched quietly as she took a sip, then set the glass down with natural ease.
"You must be tired after all those adventures you had," she said with a faint smile. "Why don't you go upstairs and change into something more comfortable?"
Adriel lingered for a moment, then gave a small nod. He sheathed the daggers, secured them at his waist, and silently made his way toward his room.
A moment later, the sound of a door closing echoed in the silence.
She sighed quietly, her gaze dropping to the serviette still in her hand. She stared at it for a brief moment, then tossed it into the bin—the once-white fabric now streaked with an unsettling shade of red.
— — — — —
¹ AD: Pronounced 'Ayy-Dee'. Nickname was coined from the first two letters of the name 'Adriel'.