"Did you have to go through this too?"
Riven's voice broke the stillness.
Ivan didn't answer immediately. He stood with his usual calm, but his eyes were sharper today—more aware.
"No," Ivan said finally.
Riven frowned. "No?"
Ivan stepped closer.
"What you're struggling with… is supposed to be the beginning."
Riven's expression tightened.
"Controlling aether," Ivan continued, "is the foundation of becoming an Ascendant. It's the first gate."
Riven looked at his hands.
"And I skipped it," he muttered.
Ivan nodded once.
"You didn't learn how to feel it… or how to guide it. You reached for power before understanding it."
Riven exhaled slowly. "So I messed up."
"No," Ivan said calmly. "You arrived… out of order."
That didn't sound comforting.
---
Riven stayed quiet for a moment before asking,
"What comes after Ascendant?"
Ivan's gaze shifted slightly—as if measuring how much to reveal.
"There are stages," he said. "Minor and major."
Riven listened carefully now.
"Within Ascendant," Ivan continued, "there are levels—what we call Stars. Each star represents refinement, control, and stability."
Riven's eyes narrowed. "So… Ascendant isn't just one stage."
"No. It's a path in itself."
Ivan paused before continuing.
"Beyond that… is Transcendent."
The word felt heavier.
"That's a major stage," Ivan added. "A different existence entirely. Where aether isn't just controlled…"
He looked directly at Riven.
"…it becomes a part of your being."
Riven didn't speak.
For the first time, he felt it.
The world was far bigger than he thought.
Far more dangerous too.
---
Evening
The sky had dimmed by the time Riven returned home.
The familiar sight of the house grounded him in a way nothing else could.
As he stepped in, the door opened again.
His father had just arrived.
"You're late," his father said, loosening his collar.
Riven gave a small smile. "You too."
A brief pause—then a nod between them. Quiet understanding.
"Oi, hero's back," his sister's voice rang out from inside. "Did you finally learn how to not trip over your own feet?"
Riven rolled his eyes. "I was never that bad."
She grinned. "Keep telling yourself that."
The normalcy felt… strange.
After everything he'd seen, everything he'd felt—
This world seemed too calm.
Too simple.
---
Riven entered his room and shut the door.
Silence.
His hand instinctively reached for the pendant around his neck.
The moment his fingers touched it—
Everything shifted.
---
The Inner Space[1]
Dark.
Endless.
Quiet in a way that felt… deliberate.
Riven sat cross-legged, his breathing steady.
This wasn't new.
He had discovered this place long ago—by accident at first.
A space where his consciousness could withdraw.
Where everything slowed.
Where aether… listened.
Riven closed his eyes.
A faint current gathered around him.
Unstable—but present.
He focused.
Not forcing.
Guiding.
He remembered Ivan's grandfather's voice—
"Aether is like a river. You don't fight it. You give it direction."
Riven inhaled slowly.
The current tightened.
Concentrated.
He guided it—toward his right arm.
At first, it resisted.
Then—
It settled.
A subtle pressure formed.
Not overwhelming.
Controlled.
His fingers twitched.
Strength.
Not explosive.
Not wild.
Focused.
A faint smile crossed his face.
He held it there.
Steady.
Then—
He pulled it back.
Let it disperse.
Again.
This time—he spread it thin.
Across his entire presence.
The sensation changed.
Quieter.
Duller.
Hidden.
If someone were to sense him now—
They'd feel… almost nothing.
Riven opened his eyes.
"…So this is what he meant."
For the first time—
He wasn't chasing aether.
He was guiding it.
---
"Riven! Dinner!"
His mother's voice echoed faintly.
The space dissolved instantly.
---
Dinner Table
Warm light.
Familiar voices.
The clink of plates.
Riven sat between his family, the tension from earlier slowly fading.
His sister was mid-story, exaggerating something as usual.
"And then he just stood there like—like a statue!"
"That didn't happen," Riven said flatly.
"It absolutely did."
His father chuckled quietly.
His mother shook her head. "Eat first, argue later."
Riven looked around.
For a moment—
He forgot everything else.
---
Elsewhere
The air was cold.
Still.
A large hall stood in silence—its polished floor reflecting dim light.
At its center stood a man.
Bald.
Sharp-eyed.
Impatient.
"Last chance," he said coldly. "Submit your business. Your assets. Everything."
Across from him stood Aarion.
Calm.
Unmoved.
"You talk too much for someone asking for mercy," Aarion replied.
The man's expression darkened. "You think this is a joke?"
Aarion tilted his head slightly.
"No," he said. "I think you are."
Silence.
Then—
The man snapped.
"Kill him."
More than a hundred men surged forward.
Weapons drawn.
Intent clear.
For a brief moment—
Nothing happened.
Then—
Aarion flicked his finger.
—
The world… folded.
A soundless distortion tore through the space.
Bodies froze mid-motion—
Then collapsed.
Not cut.
Not struck.
Erased.
Blood painted the floor in an instant.
The air turned thick.
Heavy.
Still.
Only one man remained.
The bald one.
Frozen.
Shaking.
Aarion stepped forward slowly.
Each step echoed.
Measured.
Unavoidable.
"Riesi," Aarion said softly, speaking his name like it meant nothing.
The man flinched.
"You were given a choice."
Aarion stopped in front of him.
His gaze was calm.
Cold.
"You could have lived… unnoticed. Untouched."
A faint distortion began to form around Raghav's body.
Subtle at first.
Then tightening.
"But no…"
Aarion's voice dropped.
"You chose to reach beyond your place."
The space around Raghav twisted.
His body bent unnaturally.
He tried to scream—
But the sound never came.
Aarion looked at him one last time.
"Know this," he said quietly,
"The smaller the life… the louder the greed."
The distortion collapsed.
—
Silence returned.
As if nothing had happened.
END
[1] inside the Riven's pendent