Sleep refused to come.
Aiden lay on his narrow cot, staring at the rotting ceiling beams while the strange warmth in his chest pulsed with increasing intensity. Around him, the dormitory had settled into its usual rhythm of exhausted breathing and muffled whimpers from those caught in nightmares. Even Gareth's mumbling had quieted to barely audible whispers.
But the pressure behind Aiden's ribs continued to build, like water rising behind a dam that was slowly beginning to crack.
He shifted position, trying to find some relief from the sensation, and that's when it happened.
Words blazed to life in the darkness before him, written in letters of pale blue fire that seemed to burn themselves directly onto his vision. Not floating in the air—he could still see the ceiling beams through them—but present nonetheless, as real as his own heartbeat.
[CORE AWAKENING DETECTED]
[ANALYZING BLOODLINE...]
[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
The text shifted, reforming into something that made his breath catch in his throat.
NAME: Aiden
CORE: Eyes of the Void (Epic)
BLOODLINE: Heroic Light (Rare)
AVAILABLE PATHS:
Path of the Slave
Path of the Miner
Path of the Lost
Path of Whispered Lies
[SELECT A PATH TO BEGIN THE AWAKENING PROCESS]
Aiden's mind reeled as he tried to process what he was seeing. This was it—this was what the awakened experienced when their cores first activated. Or so the others had told him.
The moment when ordinary humans transcended their limitations and became something more.
But the timing was impossible. Awakening usually happened between the ages of twelve and sixteen, triggered by extreme emotion or physical trauma. He was already sixteen, well past the normal window. And he'd experienced plenty of trauma over the past six years without showing any sign of developing powers.
The after dinner sessions also were mostly disappointment as no matter how much he tried he couldn't feel the mana around him until someone was pushing their mana inside his body. And even then it just felt like an alien energy crawling inside his skin and nothing else.
The cave-in, he realized. Something about nearly dying in that tunnel triggered this.
But no matter what it was, he would make very good use of this. The gears in his head already had started turning.
But first let's take stock.
Jon had told him that the Cores, Bloodlines, and almost everything else came in ranks. Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, and so on. The three of them didn't agree on the order after that.
So his core was epic ranked. That sure meant something special, didn't it?
Then he looked at his bloodline. Heroic Light. Rare. He almost laughed at the irony. A slave sleeping in utter darkness having the bloodline of what again?
Next were the paths.
His eyes swept over the four available options. Trying to
understand what each one might offer. Path of the Slave and Path of the Miner were obvious enough—abilities tied to his current circumstances, probably focused on endurance and survival. Path of the Lost was more mysterious, but it suggested something related to being disconnected from his origins.
But it was Path of Whispered Lies that called to him with an intensity that was almost physical. Something about those three words resonated with the rage that had been building inside him for six years.
The need to hide, to deceive, to present one face to the world while nurturing darker purposes beneath.
He'd been living a lie since the day he was enslaved—pretending to be broken when fury burned in his heart, acting submissive while plotting revenge. If he was going to gain power, it should be power that reflected who he'd become in the depths of this nightmare.
Almost without conscious thought, he focused on the Path of Whispered Lies.
The words flared brighter for a moment, then dissolved into new text.
PATH SELECTED: Path of Whispered Lies
[FIRST ABILITY UNLOCKED]
SKILL GAINED: [Misdirection] (Uncommon)
Causes targets to unconsciously avert their attention, making the user easier to overlook or ignore. Effectiveness varies based on target's mental resistance and user's skill level.
The text faded, leaving him staring at empty darkness once again. But the warmth in his chest had changed, becoming less chaotic and more focused. He could feel something new there now—not just heat, but potential. Like having a muscle he'd never known existed suddenly become available for use.
Misdirection, he thought, rolling the word around in his mind. Make people look away. Make them overlook me.
It was perfect. How many times had he wished he could simply disappear when the overseers were looking for someone to punish? How many beatings might he have avoided if he could just make himself forgettable?
He had to try it.
Slowly, carefully, he sat up on his cot and looked around the dormitory. Most of the slaves were deeply asleep, but there was always at least one guard on duty. Tonight it was Corporal Hayes, a heavy-set man who sat near the door reading by the light of a small oil lamp.
Focus on him, Aiden told himself. Try to make him look away.
He reached for the new sensation in his chest, trying to direct it outward the way he'd seen the awakened slaves do in their secret cave. For a moment, nothing happened. Then he felt something flow out of him—not physical, but real nonetheless. Like exhaling air he couldn't see.
Hayes continued reading for several seconds, then suddenly looked up and turned his head toward the far corner of the room. His eyes swept past Aiden's cot without pausing, as if there was nothing there worth noticing.
It had worked. For just a moment, he'd made himself invisible to casual observation.
The effort left him dizzy, and he could feel the warmth in his chest dimming like a candle running out of wax. Whatever energy powered these abilities, he'd already used most of what he had available. The awakening process was still incomplete, his core still forming. Pushing too hard too fast might damage something that couldn't be repaired.
But as he lay back down on his cot, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth—the first genuine smile he'd worn in years.
Power, he thought, and the word tasted like wine and honey and the promise of revenge finally served. I have power now.
It was small, almost insignificant compared to what the overseers could do. But it was his. The first thread of a web that would someday be strong enough to trap all his enemies.
The exhaustion hit him like a falling stone, pulling him down toward sleep with irresistible force. His body, already pushed to its limits by the day's labors and the whipping, simply couldn't handle the additional strain of using his newly awakened abilities.
But as consciousness faded, as the dormitory dissolved into the grey fog of approaching dreams, Aiden held onto one crystal-clear thought:
This is just the beginning.
Somewhere in the darkness of his mind, seven names waited patiently for the day when he would be strong enough to speak them aloud.
Lord Commander Voss. Magistrate Cornelius. Merchant Prince Aldric. Overseer Drayton. Overseer Kaine. Overseer Boris. Several others. And now, as sleep finally claimed him, another name joined the list.
Corporal Hayes. The first man to be touched by his power. The first small step on a very long road. That needed to be marked, right? And it wasn't like Corporal Hayes was doing the god's work in the quarry.
The boy who had once been a noble's bastard was gone, dissolved like morning mist in the heat of awakening. In his place lay something new—something patient and cunning and dangerous in ways that would take years to fully understand.
Something that would learn to whisper lies with the fluency of truth.
Something that would never forget a single injury or slight.
And as Aiden slept, his core continued its slow formation, weaving threads of void and shadow into a pattern that would someday reshape the world around him.
The first lesson of the Path of Whispered Lies had begun.