The exhaustion from the battle was a heavy blanket, but sleep wouldn't come. Every time Kaelen closed his eyes, he saw the Spireback Behemoth charging, heard the screams, felt the strain of holding the shield. And behind it all was the old woman's voice: "You were the shadow that stood against the monster."
He wasn't just a weapon. He wasn't just a key. He was a person with a curse he didn't understand, a power that felt like a stranger living under his skin. The battle had shown him he could use it, but it hadn't shown him why he had it. Why him? Where did the Anchor come from?
The answers wouldn't be found in the training yard or the garden. There was only one place to go.
The halls of the Citadel were quieter now, the emergency replaced by a weary silence. He made his way up to the Astral Observatory, his steps echoing in the empty corridors. He half-expected the door to be locked, but it slid open at his touch.
High Arcanist Lyra was there, as if she never slept. She stood before her holographic star charts, but they weren't displaying stars. They showed energy readings from the battle—the violent spike of the Behemoth, the chaotic swirl of the swarm, and a single, steady, dark pulse she had zoomed in on: his own energy signature.
"You are becoming quite the interesting data point, Initiate Kaelen," she said without turning around. Her voice was alive with a scholar's excitement. "The way your Umbral signature spiked in response to the Behemoth's threat... it didn't just defend. It adapted. It learned the pattern of the attack and reinforced against it. Fascinating."
"I need to understand it," Kaelen said, his voice rough with tiredness. "The Anchor. The power. All of it. Where does it come from? Why me?"
Lyra finally turned to face him. Her intense blue eyes studied him, not as a person, but as a profound puzzle. "The 'why' is a question for philosophers. The 'how'... that, we can study." She gestured to the crystal disc in the floor. "Shall we?"
He stepped onto the disc without hesitation. This time, the hum of the machines felt less alien, more like a strange kind of conversation.
"The prevailing theory on Curses," Lyra began as lights played over him, "is that they are a reflection of the Awakened's deepest self. A fear, a desire, a fundamental flaw made manifest by the System."
A fear. Kaelen's mind flashed back to the ruins. The constant, gnawing fear of being found. Of the monsters always hunting him. The Anchor made a terrible, cruel sense.
"But your power is different," Lyra continued, her fingers dancing across her console. "It was present before the System Claimed you. The Covenant didn't create it. It merely... put a name on it. Turned on the light in a room that was already occupied."
The scan intensified. The blue light turned a deeper violet. Lyra's holographic display filled with complex genetic code, intertwined with strands of pure black energy.
"Your Umbral aspect isn't just in your cells," she whispered, her voice full of awe. "It is your cells. Your very DNA is woven with it. This isn't an Awakening. This is... a birthright. Or a birth curse."
Kaelen felt a chill that had nothing to do with the machines. "What does that mean?"
"It means you were born with this. Perhaps from a parent who possessed a similar trait. Perhaps from an event before your birth." She zoomed in on a section of the code. "The Anchor curse is not a separate thing. It is the core of your power. Your presence creates a... resonance in the Veil. It calls to the nightmares because you are, in a way, a part of them. And they are a part of you."
The words should have horrified him. Instead, they felt like a key turning in a lock. The constant draw. The feeling of being one with the darkness. It wasn't just a curse; it was his nature.
"The man I was before... in the ruins..." Kaelen struggled to form the question. "Do you know who I was? My family?"
Lyra's expression softened, just for a moment. "That data is not in my machines. Your past is a shadow even I cannot illuminate." She paused, studying his face. "But the Citadel's records on Awakened are extensive. Especially those with unique aspects. If your power is a birthright, then perhaps your parents were also Awakened. Their records would be sealed, but not to me."
A spark of hope, terrifying and fragile, ignited in his chest. A name. A history. A reason.
Lyra saw the look in his eyes. She gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I will search the archives. Discreetly. Knowledge should not be kept in the dark, even if some would prefer it." She meant Valeria. Isolde. The others who wanted to use his power without understanding it.
The scan ended. Kaelen stepped off the disc, his mind reeling. He wasn't a random victim of the System. His curse was his inheritance. For better or worse, this power was who he was.
"Thank you, High Arcanist," he said, the title feeling earned for the first time.
"Thank me when I find answers," she replied, already turning back to her screens, consumed by the new hunt for data. "Now, leave me. I have work to do."
Kaelen left the observatory, descending back into the heart of the Citadel. The world hadn't changed. The city was still damaged. The Matriarchs still had their plans for him. But he had changed.
He had a new path now. Not just to control his power, but to understand it. To understand himself. The shadow he was supposed to be wasn't just a weapon for others to wield.
It was his own history, waiting to be uncovered. And he would follow it into the darkest corners of the past to find the truth.