"It is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen."
One of the older children murmured, his gaze and voice immersed. It was Fremileo Aurelis, the youngest son of the Second Elder.
Though his words were barely a whisper, Caelrisu caught them. Her curious red eyes turned toward him.
"Why are you so shocked? Haven't you already been here before?"
Fremileo's head tilted toward her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He was one of the few in the clan who openly supported her existence, her only real friend, aside from Lunaris.
"Yes," he admitted softly. "I've stood here before. But… for some reason, I can't remember this place at all."
Lunaris frowned, golden eyes narrowing as he tilted his head.
"Are you suffering from amnesia? I mean, I know you're old and all, but still."
Beside him, Caelrisu let out a soft sigh, her expression dripping with exaggerated pity. She even tilted her head slightly, as though mourning his decline.
"Poor Fremileo… losing memories already. Do you need us to start reminding you who you are every morning?"
Fremileo's brows twitched violently. His hands clenched at his sides.
'This damn brother and sister pair… always the same.'
"First off," he ground out, "I'm not old. I'm only two years older than you two! And second, no, it's not amnesia."
Lunaris blinked innocently, though his lips curved into the faintest smirk.
"Oh, so it's selective then? You remember how to lose to me in training, but not this place. Interesting condition."
Caelrisu nodded solemnly, her raven hair falling over one shoulder as she leaned in, her tone mock-serious.
"Mm. Sounds dangerous. Maybe it spreads. What if it's contagious? Should we start avoiding him, brother?"
Fremileo's teeth audibly ground together.
"I remember everything else perfectly!" he barked, voice rising despite himself. "Every lesson, every spar, every face in this cursed clan, every word anyone's ever said to me. Just…"
His gaze flicked uneasily toward the lake, the flowers glowing faintly at its edges, butterflies drifting like scattered stars above. His voice dropped to a murmur.
"Just not this place. It's like it's been carved out of my mind. A hole where memory should be."
A voice rose suddenly from the back, hesitant yet urgent.
"What, you too? I thought I was the only one."
Another spoke, eyes wide. "Me as well."
"Same here."
One by one, voices joined in. The cave filled with a low commotion, murmurs spilling over one another as unease swept through the group.
Not a single older child remembered this place. As if the memory itself had been stolen from their minds.
"It's because of the Clan Head's ability."
The words cut through the whispers, steady and aged. The Second Elder had appeared among them, his dark robes brushing against the shining flowers as though even they bowed at his presence.
"Clan Head's power?" Caelrisu asked, tilting her head, voice soft yet sharp with curiosity. "Is it… something related to memory?"
For the briefest of moments, Vermas's expression cracked into warmth. Love flickered across his face before he returned to his usual composure, stern yet cloaked in the gentleness expected of a teacher.
"Correct," he said gravely. "The Clan Head possesses the power to manipulate memory. He can erase, alter, or implant memories at will for anyone below the level of Silent Judge."
The children stared, wide-eyed.
"Why not, Silent Judge?" Lunaris blurted out, his small voice carrying more weight than his years.
A faint smile tugged at Vermas's lips, though his eyes grew distant, heavy with things unsaid.
"Because," he said slowly, "the Clan Head himself is only a Silent Judge. The only ones who ever surpassed that realm… were your father, Vitalis Aurelis, as well as our Grand Clan Head, your grandfather."
A hushed silence fell over the group. The butterflies still shimmered around them, wings scattering bluish light, but suddenly the beauty of the scene felt heavier, more secretive.
"Why have I never heard of it, Father?" Fremileo finally asked, his small voice almost trembling, though he tried to mask it with formality.
"Because it is top secret information," Vermas replied evenly, his eyes sweeping across the gathered children.
"Then why tell us?" another child piped up, anxious confusion lacing their tone.
The answer did not come from the elder but from Caelrisu. Her voice, calm and almost too steady for a girl her age, sliced through the murmurs.
"Because this memory will also be removed from our minds… isn't that right?"
Her words froze the crowd more than Vermas's revelation had. A few children sucked in sharp breaths; others hugged themselves tighter, as though the thought of losing their memory made them colder than the mountain air.
Vermas's gaze lingered on her longer than it should have, the faintest trace of approval, and love, shining in his eyes.
"…Correct. What you learn here is not meant to remain with you. The Clan Head will ensure secrecy of these things."
A wave of panic rippled through the children, helplessness, curiosity, and even wonder twisting together in their young hearts. Small murmurs threatened to spill into frightened cries, until,
Clap!
The sound cut through the air. As if bewitched, the children's emotions stilled, their fears softening into calm forgetfulness.
From behind them, a dignified figure appeared, youthful, seemingly no more than in his twenties, his long black hair flowing with an effortless grace. His gentle smile was warm enough to melt the mountain frost, but in that very warmth lay something that unsettled the heart.
"You shouldn't scare the little ones like that, Vermas," the newcomer said, his voice mild yet carrying a weight no child, or elder, could ignore.
Cold sweat beaded down Vermas's neck as he saw the blank, dazed looks on the children's faces.
"My apologies, Clan Head," he murmured, bowing slightly.
"When did you appear here, Uncle?" Lunaris asked innocently, eyes sparkling with innocence.
The man's smile softened further, and he crouched down to meet Lunaris's gaze.
"Right now, I am not your uncle, my sweet potato," he said, poking the boy's forehead lightly, "but your Clan Head. And as for your question," he tapped the ground with his finger, "I just appeared."
Fremileo, still unsettled, turned sharply toward Vermas.
"Father, what were you saying just now?"
Vermas's expression stiffened. His son's words stabbed deeper than intended. Slowly, he exhaled, his gaze sweeping the other children, who now looked equally lost.
"…What, can't you even remember that?"
Not a single child nodded. Their faces were blank, confused, yet strangely calm.
'Truly a terrifying ability,' Vermas thought grimly, hiding the shiver crawling up his spine. 'Thank the heavens, he is only a Silent Judge. If he had reached further…'
Vermas sighed heavily, his stern but weary tone returning as he spread his hands.
"Children these days… Fine, I will explain to you all again."
His voice deepened, carrying faint echoes over the dreamlike field of white blossoms and fluttering butterflies.
"You will have to walk to the mirror lake in the center of the flower field. Simple enough, right?"
A ripple of relief passed through the children; heads nodded, breaths eased for a heartbeat, only for it to be broken.
"Not so fast. You will have to jump into the lake and face [something]. As for what it is, I can only tell you when it's your turn. Trust me, this is for your own safety."
Hearing the cold and gentle but wary tone of Vermas, a collective shiver ran through the group. The butterflies' blue light trembled and shimmered, as if amused by their fragile courage.
The Clan Head's calm, dignified tone followed:
"Do not take this lightly. Many of you may not even manage a single second in the Lake before your body collapses. You could end up dying the most excruciatingly painful death, especially the older ones, or you may not even remain the same as before.
I know many of you are only here due to pressure from your families, foolish legends, or admiration for someone. I shall give you the final choice.
Do you wish to proceed?"
His gaze lingered on them with an almost fatherly gentleness, with a soft smile that spoke trust and reassurance.
But no child stepped forward or got afraid to face the challenge.
The Clan Head spoke again.
"If you are worried about what others would say, then you don't have to be worried about these things. What matters is that you live.
I ask again, do you wish to proceed?"
Vermas stepped forward and looked at Clan Head, shaking his head. Conveying that it is useless to convince them. Then, he looked at the children and said,
"For each of you, the experience will differ." His eyes swept across the gathered children.
"What you see and face may be the most horrifying nightmare of your life or the easiest trial imaginable. Some of you will not survive. Fewer still may Awaken. Knowing this… do you still wish to challenge it?"
"Yes!!!"
A roar thundered from young throats, raw with courage and fear alike.
Vermas' gaze sharpened, steel cloaked in endless warmth. The clamor died instantly into silence.
The butterflies drifted lazily in the perfumed air, scattering soft blue light. The white flowers around the lake glowed brighter the nearer they stood, as though beckoning. Yet instead of comfort, the beauty only made their hearts race harder, blood pounding in their ears.
Then the Clan Head's voice rose, calm but worrying, carrying through the field like a decree.
"Now… let us begin the Ceremony."