"You're a Seeker?A Practitioner!"
Aurelian leaned forward, barely holding his excitement."You said there are nine ranks— you've only explained three!..What about the other six?"
His blue eyes sparkled with brilliance.Lady Evelyne giggled elegantly, covering her lips with two delicate fingers.
Aurelian's cheeks burned.Such a graceful gesture—he couldn't help but blush.
"Oh dear… you really do want to know more,"
she chimed warmly.
But her smile faded—just for a moment.
A brief shadow crossed her expression.
"I only fully understand the first three ranks,"
she said softly."Those were the steps I myself took on my journey as a Seeker."
Her smile returned, serene and elegant.
"But I can tell you, young one…you should become a Seeker first.If I explain too much now, you may walk into your Path with bafflement,not clarity."
She inhaled deeply, then continued.
"Rank Four is the Ascendant.A rank I have not reached yet.
The difference between a Practitioner and an Ascendant…is the difference between a boulder…and a mountain.
An Ascendant can borrow fragments of universal laws—or what some seekers call the Great Dao."
She chuckled lightly.
"No one truly knows where the term 'Dao' came from.Its origin is older than any kingdom.But if I start explaining that…
we will be here for hours."
Her expression sharpened with pride as she continued.
"Rank Five — Sage.
Rank Six — Saint.
Rank Seven — Monarch.
Rank Eight — Sovereign.
And Rank Nine…"
She paused.
"Primordial."
Aurelian's jaw nearly hit the floor.
He stared at her, drooling like a child hearing a legendary tale.
"P–Primordial…?
Lady Evelyne, what is a Primordial?"
At that question—Lady Evelyne burst into unrestrained laughter.
Not elegant.
Not polite.
A genuine, uncontrolled, utterly delighted laugh.
She actually fell backward onto Aurelian's bed,
laughing for a full twenty breaths.
"Hahaha!
You—!
Child, I want to adopt you this instant!"
She pointed at him, still laughing.
"Would you like to become my son?"
Aurelian stared at the laughing woman, stunned.
This wasn't the elegant, composed noble lady he'd first seen—this was someone raw, genuine, almost childlike in her joy.
His lips parted.
A tear ran down his jaw.
Warm tears began sliding down his cheeks before he even realized it.
"Aurelian?
Are you alright, child?"
Lady Evelyne stood, her laughter fading into concern.She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
But Aurelian shook his head.
"I'm… I'm older than most orphans," he whispered.
"I'll be seventeen in a few full moons.
I'm too old to be adopted."
He wiped his tears with the back of his sleeve,
but they kept coming anyway.
"I've never… felt something like that.
Never from anyone."
His voice cracked.
"So please… Lady Evelyne…don't say things like that..even..even as a joke."
He swallowed hard.
"I might… hope."
Aurelian's breath hitched.
Every inhale was a tremor.
Every exhale felt like a collapse.
He could barely breathe.
Barely hold himself together.
Lady Evelyne said nothing.
Not a single word.
Instead, she smiled softly—a smile warmer than the eternal sun above Luminor—and lowered her chin gently onto his head.
Then she wrapped her arms around his shaking chest,feeling every rise and fall of his frantic breaths.
"Aurelian Astren."
Her voice was soft—so soft it felt like it touched something buried deep inside him.
She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
"It seems to me," she whispered,
"that you were born for this name."
The words shattered him.
Aurelian broke.
All at once.
He whined like a small child—raw, unfiltered, unrestrained.
Sobs tore out of him without shame or dignity.
He didn't care if she was lying.
Didn't care if tomorrow she forgot his name.
Didn't care if the heavens themselves mocked him.
For that moment—
he wanted her warmth.
He wanted the hand she offered.
He wanted to escape his fate,
escape the priesthood,
escape Thornridge…
escape the life that felt like a cage.
Minutes passed.
Finally, Aurelian's breaths steadied.
The storm inside him quieted.
Lady Evelyne leaned back slightly, smiling with playful elegance.
"Hmmm..Seventeen in a few moons," she murmured,
"and you cry like a toddler."
Aurelian's entire face flushed crimson—
from the crying,and from the teasing.
"Amm, sor—"
Aurelian's apology was cut short.
Lady Evelyne gently pressed her index finger against his lips.
"Child," she whispered,
"even if I look like I'm in my twenties…I'm a middle-aged woman.
There is no shame in saying that word."
She smiled—soft, radiant, warm.
"Say it."
Her voice wasn't commanding.
It wasn't demanding.
It was an invitation—
one Aurelian had never heard in his life.
His lips trembled.
His eyes stung again.
The word formed slowly, painfully…
like something buried deep, dug out after years of being forgotten.
"M… mother."
The moment the word left his mouth,
his whole body shivered.
As if a weight he'd carried his entire life suddenly loosened.
As if his heart had been holding its breath for sixteen years
and finally exhaled.
A washed-out calm spread through him—
not joy, not relief,
but something he had never known.
Safety.
Aurelian pressed his lips together, overwhelmed.
In Thornridge Village, orphans had higher status than villagers—not because they were lucky, but because the refugees who lived here could barely take care of their own children. No one had the ability to adopt, to nurture, to provide.
The Church fed them.
Clothed them.
Educated them until the age of twenty-five.
But no one loved them.
No one held them.
No one called them theirs.
Aurelian was beautiful, elegant, a prodigy among orphans—but that meant nothing in this forgotten place.
No noble ever passed through Thornridge.
No wealthy patron ever visited.
No one with power or vision ever laid eyes on him.
Until today.
Until a miracle in the shape of a noblewoman—a Seeker—walked into this small, lonely village and saw something in him.
Saw him.
Saw worth.
Saw potential.
Saw a boy who had never been wanted—
and wanted him.
And for the first time in sixteen years…
Aurelian Astren belonged to someone.
"About the Primordial you asked," Lady Evelyne said with a soft smile.
Aurelian listened closely, and the two of them ended up talking for hours.
Their bond grew even more with each passing moment.
"Aurelian, son… you must tell Father Ralnr everything," Evelyne finally said.
"I'll wait in your room. And if anything happens, or if I leave—don't worry.
Your mother promises… I will come back for you as soon as possible."
Aurelian nodded sheepishly, a bright smile on his face.
"Yes, La— I mean… mother."
He straightened his posture and rushed out of the room, heart pounding, steps light.
He pushed open the door to Father Ralnr's chambers.
"Child Aurelian? Are you okay, child?
Did my niece do something to you!"
Father Ralnr's usually squinting eyes were now wide open, crimson pupils filled with deep concern as he noticed the dried tears on Aurelian's cheeks.
Aurelian shook his head quickly.
"No… Father Ralnr! She… she said she'll adopt me as her son."
Aurelian said it with pure innocence.
"A… a… as her son??"
Father Ralnr's mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he jolted up from his chair, scattering paperwork across the table.
"Oh Lord… great Lord Sun, why?
I am old, and I won't live for long… and you are taking my inheritor…"
He muttered his inner thoughts under his breath, barely holding himself together.
Aurelian gulped nervously, watching the old man's flustered expression until Father Ralnr finally composed himself.
"Adoption, you say?"
He let out a dry chuckle, followed by a loud, strained laugh.
"Child… if fate has decided it, what can mortals like us do?
A Seeker herself chose you!"
A few tears rolled down his wrinkled cheeks.
"You truly were fated for this day."
* * *
Meanwhile, in Aurelian's room, the foolish Lucian crawled inside.
The room was empty… which to his mind meant freedom.
He stood up clumsily and dragged his weak body toward the table,
nose twitching as a pleasant scent reached him.
"No… no—Aurelian is going to kill this fool!
STOP! STOP!!"
Lucian's soul screamed from within, powerless.
But the body ignored him completely.
On the table lay a note written in a language he couldn't understand,
and beside it, a crimson pill the size of a peanut—
emanating a faint fragrance.
Foolish Lucian opened his mouth…
…and swallowed the pill instantly.
"OH GOD—WHAT IF IT'S POISON?!
HE DID TRY TO GET RID OF THIS FOOL BEFORE!!"
Lucian's soul panicked.
Then, as if possessed by pure idiocy,
Lucian began eating the note.
Then the other papers.
Then the flowers.
He drank the water from the vase—
and finally dropped the vase onto the floor,
ceramic shattering as he collapsed onto the bed.
But then—
Rumble.
Lucian's eyes widened.
He tried to vomit everything out—
but the pill had already dissolved
and rushed into his bloodstream.
Blood leaked from his eyes and nose.
A scream tore out of him, raw and agonizing.
His mind felt like a burning iron rod was being hammered through it—
as if something inside was breaking,
shattering,
coming undone.
Rumble.
His heart pounded like war drums,
faster and faster,
and more blood dripped from his nose.