It was a pitch black void, but a void filled with silhouettes. The gray of a floor, the shimmer of transparent walls, and the dim outlines of humanoid training dummies. Colorful spheres of energy danced through the space. At the edge of it all stood a figure shimmering with a dark silver light, and in the center of everything, there was a soul, suspended in the emptiness.
One of the energy spheres shot toward the soul. It met the sphere with a swift strike of its hand. Two more came from the side, and the soul ducked beneath them. Just then, three spheres tangled together, reversed their spin in an unnatural way, and flew toward the soul.
The soul extended its hand toward the approaching spheres, and a blast of golden energy erupted from its palm, knocking them back. It moved with a continuous, fluid grace, striking, dodging, and weaving between the chaotic projectiles.
Then, a single sphere, shining brighter than the others, shot toward its face with incredible speed. The soul raised its hands to defend itself, but the impact of the sphere sent it hurtling backward, crashing onto its back on the hard, gray floor.
And then, the world of silhouettes vanished, replaced by absolute darkness.
He brought a hand to the blindfold on his face. As he touched it, the colors returned. He saw the iron balls swinging idly in the air, and he turned his head to face the large Northerner across the room.
Aurelion pushed himself up, grumbling. He looked at Roric. "What was that?"
Roric studied Aurelion for a long moment before speaking. "When did your energy sense get this developed, brat?"
"Yours would be too if you didn't lose your memory after you died," Aurelion thought. Outwardly, he just said, "I am a High Elf. Have you forgotten, Captain?"
"Strange," Roric muttered. "Or is your Law something else entirely..."
"We'll understand exactly what it is in the future, won't we, Captain?" Aurelion said, dismissing the topic. "Never mind that. What was that you did at the end?"
"I didn't do anything, brat. I just sped up one of the balls a little," Roric said.
Aurelion raised a single eyebrow.
Roric continued, "There's no great skill in dodging randomly drifting balls, even if you are blind. That's why I'll be speeding some of them up from time to time. You won't know which one, or when. Training at this difficulty will make you stronger, faster."
A smirk spread across Aurelion's face. "You're right, Captain." He reached for his eye patch again.
"No," Roric said.
Aurelion paused, looking at him.
"You've already been doing this for two hours. Don't wear out your body any further. Go fill your stomach, and then go to Faelan and give him the materials you collected," Roric instructed.
"What are these materials for anyway?" Aurelion asked.
"They'll be good for your body. Faelan will explain the details," Roric said, and began to walk toward the door. He stopped just before the doorway and looked back at Aurelion.
"Don't forget, you are still in recovery. Getting back to your best condition is your priority. Don't push yourself too hard."
And with that, he left.
After Roric leaves, Aurelion turns and look at the balls.
"It's not about just sensing them," he said to himself. "I can already do that easily. The point is to feel them while my good eye is open. I need to combine the vision I have when my eye is open with the vision I have when it is closed."
He paused, a grudging respect in his thoughts. "Still, it's a good start. You can't gain everything all at once." He turned and walked to the door.
He went directly to his room, changed into a fresh set of clothes, slung his pack over his shoulder, and then headed back downstairs toward the exit.
Sigrid poked her head out from the kitchen. "Are you going somewhere, Aurelion?"
"I have business with Faelan," he said without stopping.
"Would you like us to co—"
"No," he cut her off and continued walking.
"Wait," Brynja's voice called out. "Take this."
Aurelion turned his head and looked at Brynja.
In her hand was a black eye patch, much smaller and more refined than the one he had used for training, designed to cover just his eye.
"There's no need," he said.
Brynja and Sigrid approached him. Brynja knelt, gently placed the patch over his scarred eye, and smiled softly.
As Aurelion looked at Brynja and Sigrid with a grumpy expression, Sigrid nudged Brynja. "He looks so cool, doesn't he? Like a real warrior!"
"He does," Brynja agreed.
"This is unnecessary," Aurelion grumbled. "Why should I hide my eye?"
"It's not for hiding," Brynja said. "Not everyone should get to see something that belongs to you, right? Isn't it better if you only share some things with us?"
Aurelion continued to stare at them blankly. "Whatever," he said, and walked out.
As Aurelion walked out of the house, he moved from the Upper District toward the center of the city. His brow was slightly furrowed.
"It's just an eye patch," he grumbled to himself. "If I don't wear it, my scar is visible. If I wear it, it's obvious there's a scar underneath. What's the difference?"
He then reconsidered. "At least I will attract less unnecessary attention. It might be more logical to wear it just for that. Not because it's anything else." He continued on his way.
As he neared the city center. He finally stopped before a massive structure that stood apart from the rest, built of smooth, almost seamless white stone. Banners bearing the emblem of a white compass fluttered from its facade. This was the Compass Guild.
There burly dwarfs discussed their runed axes with compass-crested humans, while some beastkins presented glowing cores, harvested from their hunts, to guild members. Aurelion observed the scene with a cold, detached interest.
"It's obvious why the clans dislike the guilds," he thought. "They exclude other races out of bigotry. That's why the guilds become an opportunity for everyone left out of the clan system." He turned his gaze back to the building. "Compared to the clans, the guilds are more useful." With that thought, he slipped through the crowd and walked toward the entrance.
The interior was quiet and orderly, a stark contrast to the outside. Polished stone floors, high ceilings... Aurelion ignored the surrounding, made his way forward, and found himself before a wide reception desk. Behind it, a Northern woman with braided yellow hair was buried in the papers spread before her.
Aurelion waited a moment. When the woman didn't notice him, he cleared his throat with a soft cough.
The woman lifted her head, her expression one of annoyance at the interruption. Her eyes scanned the empty space before her, then lowered to the level of the desk, and finally she see Aurelion. She looked around, as if searching for his parents, before her gaze settled back on him, lingering for a fraction of a second on his black eye patch.
"Hello, young Elf," she said while her voice a bit hesitant. "What is your business here, all by yourself?"
"I have business with Faelan," Aurelion stated flatly.
"Faelan? What business could you possibly have with Analyst Faelan? And how do you know him?"
"Name is Aurelion. It will be enough if you just tell him I'm here to see him."
The woman paused, then leaned forward, studying him more closely. A flicker of recognition crossed her face. "You're the High Elf staying with the Captain, but your eye... as I heard it wasn't like thi—" She stopped herself, realizing the rudeness of her unfinished sentence. "I mean, I wasn't expecting you here."
Aurelion was growing tired of dealing with the woman. He took a deep breath and simply stared at her. "Are you going to inform Faelan?"
The woman pointed to the side of the reception desk. "Come Aurelion. The Guild Leader doesn't let Analyst Faelan out of his study. I'll take you to him." She stood and gestured toward a staircase.
Aurelion followed her several flights of stairs. They moved down a quiet, white corridor, lined with unmarked doors at intervals. The only sound was the soft echo of their own footsteps on the stone floor. As they walked, she began to explain.
"Our guild deals with many things, Aurelion. Monster hunting, weapon and armor crafting, fighting techniques, healing, protection, and most importantly, guidance. We guide people and foster mutual cooperation. That is the foundation of the Compass Guild."
"I understand," Aurelion said, his tone was flat.
She glanced at his indifferent face before turning her eyes forward again. "Analyst Faelan, thanks to his energy sensitivity, examines monster cores. He discovers their potential, and then these cores are used in their respective fields. He is very good at his job." She sighed softly. "He's just... a little reluctant."
"I can imagine," Aurelion replied.
A faint smile touched her lips. As they reached the end of the corridor, she pointed to a door. "This is where he works."
As she moved to knock, Aurelion stepped past her and pushed the door open.
The room was long and cluttered. Shelves lining the walls were filled with books and cores of different colors and sizes, glowing faintly in the dim light. In the center of the room, a familiar figure with messy hair was slumped over a desk, clearly asleep.
Aurelion turned to her beside him. "Clearly, just locking him in here isn't enough. You should also post a guard."
Just then, a woman voice came from behind them. "There may not be a guard, but there is me."