After Zay finished his food, he pushed his chair back slightly and stood, turning on his heel. Without a word, he began walking away, stepping into the living room and making his way toward the hallway. As he reached the hall's entrance, he glanced to the side—Mike was still asleep on the couch, undisturbed by the faint creaking of the floorboards. Zay turned his head back down the hallway, the soft morning light spilling in from the living room windows and casting pale reflections across the walls.
His footsteps were light against the carpeted floor as he continued down the hallway. He stopped in front of his bedroom door, pushed it open, and quietly slipped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click.
'The portal to the Second Realm opens six months from now, in a small village known as Vile. But before I can even think about that... the way I am now, I wouldn't survive against a bug in the Second Realm,' Zay thought grimly, lowering himself onto the floor.
A thin layer of aura shimmered faintly around him as he stared up at the window, the rain beyond blurring the world into shifting streaks of gray.
He parted his lips, his voice a low whisper. "Everything changes upon that," he murmured, before closing his eyes, steadying his breath, and sinking into meditation—knowing he had to increase his aura no matter what.
He exhaled deeply as his aura flared slightly wider around him. As he inhaled again, the lingering remnants of his old aura faded—replaced by a new current from the world, invisible even to an Arbiter's eye. He drew it in carefully, feeling an immediate reaction from his aura core.
The core stirred to life, beginning to spin slowly as the foreign aura coursed through his body, threading its way toward the core's center.
Almost instantly, the new aura began to resist—thrashing against his own, as if a violent bar fight had erupted inside him. Every nerve in his body screamed from the strain.
His fingers dug tightly into the loose fabric of his trousers as he forced himself to remain still. Any sudden movement, any disruption in focus, could prove fatal. The force he had inhaled was too potent; a single mistake would tear him apart from within.
But it was a risk every Arbiter had to face—the brutal gamble required to expand their Aura Reserves.
After an hour and three minutes, his aura core finally slowed to a halt. Zay opened his eyes, a sharp glint of violet light flaring from his fingertips as he glanced down at his hands—and a small, tired smile pulled at his lips.
"It wasn't by much... but I did increase it," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse.
He looked down at himself, seeing the way sweat clung to every inch of his body. His clothes were soaked, his skin burning faintly from the strain—the inevitable toll that pushing one's aura reserves higher demanded.
Zay slowly pushed himself up from the carpeted floor, each movement deliberate as he stood, his muscles still aching from the strain. He made his way over to a chair where he had tossed clean clothes before going to bed. His hand reached out, fingers brushing over the fabric before he grabbed a dark grey tunic and a pair of lighter grey trousers.
With the clothes in hand, he walked to the bedroom door, opened it quietly, and stepped into the hallway. His steps were mechanical, almost absent, as he ignored everything around him. He reached the bathroom door and knocked softly.
When no response came after a few seconds, he opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click. The sound of water soon filled the air as he turned the tap to run the bath. He set the clothes down on a small wooden table beside the tub, the stillness of the room wrapping around him as he waited.
—
Forty minutes later, Zay stepped out of the bathroom, his body still warm from the steam. He was dressed in the dark grey tunic and lighter grey trousers, the fabric clinging lightly to his skin. He walked through the hallway, the soft sound of his footsteps muffled by the carpet, and made his way to the living room.
Inside, he found his mother sitting on the couch, her eyes fixed on a newspaper. The headline read: King Jinro Falls in Combat During Military Advancement in the West. The words seemed to hang heavy in the air as Zay entered the room.
Rosemary looked up from the paper, meeting his gaze. "Did you hear? King Jinro was killed in the west," she said, her voice distant.
Zay nodded, his mind already focused elsewhere. "I'm going to be gone for a few hours. I'm leaving the Empire to head into the forest," he said, his tone casual but resolute.
She barely looked up from the newspaper as she gave a small nod in acknowledgment, not really paying attention to his words. Her eyes drifted back to the page, lost in the details of the war.
Zay's eyes glanced around the living room before they landed on Mike in the kitchen. He was standing still, staring out the window, his posture stiff and distant. Zay let out a quiet sigh at the sight.
Without another word, he turned toward the door. He walked over, his movements steady as he slipped his feet into his black boots. He pulled the door open, the cool air rushing in, and took one last look around the room. With a soft click, he closed it behind him.
After walking slowly for a minute, he exhaled and flared his aura around his legs before taking off running. He sped through the Empire, passed through the open gates, and found himself in the forest nearby. Suddenly, he heard something.
A melody, soft and beautiful, floating through the night air. Without realizing it, he found himself moving, drawn deeper into the forest. Each step blurred the trees around him, until the world itself seemed to shift.
The forest vanished from his eyes. In its place: clouds, endless and silver-white, drifting all around him. Harmonies shimmered in the air, layered and pure, a thousand gentle songs folding over each other like waves.
Ahead, he saw her.
A girl with long, midnight-pale silver hair, her eyes a soft blend of silver, and violet. She sat quietly before a pond clearer than any water he had seen, so pure it seemed almost unreal.Her cloak was stitched with symbols—ancient notes and forgotten melodies from countless eras, woven into every thread.
Her voice drifted toward him, calm, soft, tender, as if her very words could lull the soul into a dream.
She looked up at him, smiling with a warmth that touched something deep in his chest.
"Mira Vail. That's my name... Contractor of Velura, Weaver of Songs and Melodies," she said, her voice like a hum itself, before turning her gaze back to the pond, quietly humming once more.
Zay stared at the girl, his breath catching in his throat.
His eyes widened.
'Velura? How... a contractor? No... that doesn't make sense. Velura was an ancient goddess—forgotten by the world after she placed herself into an eternal slumber with her own voice. That was over four thousand years ago. There's no way...'
The thoughts raced through his mind, sharp and urgent, but the moment he tried to cling to doubt, the melody she hummed washed over him again. And he couldn't deny it.
Her voice didn't sound human. It didn't sound mortal. Each note shimmered, carrying a weight that felt older than the world itself. It was as if the very sound of her humming was touched by something divine, laced with the remnants of a god's blessing.
Zay clenched his fists without realizing, trying to anchor himself in reality, but the harmonies made the world blur once more—softening his anger, his fear, even his confusion. Somehow, standing there before her, it didn't matter that it was impossible.
Mira glanced up, and when she saw the confusion crossing Zay's face, a soft, lilting laugh escaped her lips.
It wasn't mocking—it was light, like the chime of a distant bell, full of quiet understanding.
She rose slowly from where she sat, the edges of her cloak trailing along the clouds.
Her silver-violet eyes met his, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to still.
The clouds, the harmonies, even the clear pond—all of it held its breath, waiting.
Mira smiled warmly, the corners of her eyes crinkling just slightly.
Mira watched him for a moment longer, her hand lowering slowly. A small, almost playful smile tugged at her lips as she turned her gaze back toward the pond.
"Just sit down and enjoy it," she said softly, her voice like the brush of a feather across skin. "It won't be long..."
Zay watched her in silence for a moment, his gaze unwavering, before he finally lowered himself to sit. She, in turn, descended slowly.
Her expression remained unreadable, but a soft smile tugged at her lips.
"No matter the barriers between two souls, melodies have the power to transcend—reaching those who are willing to listen," she said quietly. "Velura... my contract. She once told me that songs are a beauty so potent, they can divide nations... even ignite wars. You're probably wondering why I'm here. I can't blame you for that, Zay Yuso."
Her words lingered in the air as she closed her eyes, her voice trailing off. Before Zay could respond with anything, she raised her hand in a single, fluid motion. With a sharp snap of her fingers, the world around was filled with the deep, resonant sound of a piano—its notes flowing smoothly, accompanied by the layered harmony of several other instruments, each note building a tapestry of sound around them.
"My goddess did say that songs weave many stories... some of extraordinary beauty, others of tragic loss," she continued, her tone soft yet firm. "But I won't burden you with my interpretation of them. Now, stand up. You have something important to do, don't you?"