Chapter 9 Sense
"Hmm, Aelan's political structure is painfully similar to a bicameral parliamentary system, yet it also forms a tetrarchy, where four factions—the Undead Cleansing Legion, the Research Technomagic Collegium, the Autocephalous Church of the Original, and the Administrative-Executive Authority—comprise the upper chamber," Cassian murmured quietly, turning the yellowed page of the tome. "The lower chamber consists of their representatives. Twenty from each side."
He paused from the book for a moment and glanced out the window. The sun hung high in the sky, flooding the reading room with blinding light.
"...Intriguing, there's also the Independent Chamber. It includes unaffiliated experts not belonging to any of the four main branches of power."
Cassian set the book aside and wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose. The information was complex and convoluted.
"Complicated... Almost nothing I've read has direct parallels in my world. Everything is either partially similar or only tangentially related," he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to digest and organize the new facts in his mind.
During his reading, he had learned that Structures awaken after the age of sixteen because only then does a person's spiritual foundation become sturdy enough to bear its weight. The process usually requires external intervention to accelerate the awakening and avoid adverse effects on the individual's consciousness. Cassian immediately recalled that strange circle he had stepped into, and the mysterious threads that had emerged from it, then burrowed into his mind. Evidently, that had been the intervention.
He took a deep breath and mentally summed it up. 'It's been over four hours, and besides basic info on the political system and Structures, I've learned precious little.'
Most of his time was spent not on reading, but on processing the information, complicated by fragments of the previous body's owner's memories. Before his inner eye, mundane scenes from the old Cassian's life kept surfacing: him writing something, talking with his brother or parents. Nothing crucial, just a string of ordinary days.
Finally, somehow sorting his thoughts, he opened his eyes. "I suppose I'll have to come here often," Cassian said quietly, rising from his chair.
With two claps, he summoned a glissanda to put away the books and headed to the meeting spot with Matt. Seeing his face, Cassian couldn't suppress a soft sigh.
***
"You're it!" "Hey, that's not fair! I was safe at base!" "Nuh-uh! We agreed no bases!"
"How the sun scorches," Matt groaned, plunging his hand into the cool fountain water. His expression was one of utter martyrdom. "Haaa, I spent over four hours and learned jack squat! Why do heroes in novels figure everything out so easily in such a short time?"
"For the reader's time efficiency," Cassian shrugged. "Dumping too much info at once makes the story drag and bore people. Our situation is different. We're essentially those very heroes, absorbing information without any filters to sort out the irrelevant bits. So, for today, we've learned enough; we need to give our brains time to process it all."
He watched the flowing water thoughtfully, mentally replaying what Matt had shared. Structures were divided into four types: Combat, Magical, Divine, and Utilitarian. Each except the last drew on its own power: Aura, Mana, or Divinity. Matt hadn't been able to explain clearly why Utilitarian ones lacked a dedicated power. Recalling this, Cassian remembered the diviner mentioning something similar during his assessment, so he made a mental note to delve deeper into the topic. Especially Technomagic, which emerged in the Era of Universal Enlightenment and blended mechanical engineering with artifact crafting.
"In any case..." Matt turned to Cassian. "When does training start?"
"In two days," he replied curtly. "Evelina and Kozof already submitted all the necessary documents."
"Lucky you," Matt said with a hint of resentment, then sighed. "Fine, I need to head to the orphanage to get myself enrolled too." Matt stood and stretched his stiff back. "Coming with?"
"Not this time. I have some thinking and doing to handle," Cassian shook his head.
Matt just nodded: "Alright, see ya."
Cassian waved silently.
***
Some time later, he walked along a cobblestone street, scrutinizing shop signs closely.
'No... not that... Where is it... where the hell is it?' he muttered inwardly, scanning the names.
Yesterday, amid all the chaos, he hadn't paid attention to one detail, but today he couldn't shake it from his mind. Aelan's language, as he'd noticed, was very much like a blend of Germanic tongues, especially Gothic, but no sentence was built purely on one language—it was always an odd mix.
'There it is!'—that's why the quote, written entirely in pure German, had unnerved him so: "Die Vernunft irrt, und nur das Herz weist den wahren Weg."
"Mind misleads, and only the heart points the true path," Cassian whispered, reading the inscription scratched into the old signboard.
He looked around and realized he was in a dead-end alley, devoid of any souls. Glancing at the sign once more to confirm his eyes weren't deceiving him, he shifted his gaze to the door handle.
He knew this could be dangerous, that he might be gravely mistaken. But a strange, insistent feeling stirred in his chest—a faint hope that he and Matt weren't alone in this world.
Taking a deep breath, he grasped the handle. With a deafening creak, the door swung inward. Beyond it stretched impenetrable darkness. Not a single light source, not a glimmer. Even the sunlight from the street couldn't pierce this unnatural gloom. Cassian froze on the threshold, hesitant to step forward.
After a few moments' pause, he called into the void: "Hey, anyone in there?"
In response—ringing silence. He waited and tried louder: "Is anyone here?"
Silence again. "Hah, looks like no one's home," a voice sounded right behind him.
Cassian whirled around—and his blood ran cold. On the threshold, outside, stood... himself. But how? He'd just been standing there? Stunned, he glanced back and realized with horror that now he was inside the shop.
"Alright, since no one's here, I'll head out," his exact double said and began closing the door.
'Wait... no!' Cassian tried to shout, but no sound escaped his throat. Yet the double seemed to hear him. It looked straight at him, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile played on its lips. In the next instant, the door slammed shut with a bang.
Cassian was left in utter, absolute darkness. 'What the hell? Why was another me standing there? How did I end up inside?' he screamed inwardly in panic. Hope gave way to soul-chilling despair.
Gathering his will, he shook his head, trying to pull himself together. 'Doesn't matter. I need to get out. Who knows what that double might do.'
He began groping in what he thought was the direction of the door. One minute. Two. Five. 'Wait... Can a shop really be this big? Where's the door? Where's any light? Where's anything?' Panic slowly but surely began to engulf him.
A rustle.
He spun toward the sound. Far off in the pitch black, a tiny source of white light glimmered. Realizing there was no other choice, Cassian cautiously moved toward it.
As he drew nearer, he discerned three sources of light. A white sphere emitting pure, blinding radiance. A black sphere that seemed to absorb all existing glow. And the third...
They raised their head, and their face twisted in pure horror. Before them loomed a three-meter-tall, unnaturally emaciated being with disproportionately long limbs and a fox muzzle in place of a face. Its eyes emitted the same white light as the first sphere, while its body absorbed light, akin to the second.
Cassian stared at it. It stared at Cassian.
In the next instant, they instinctively turned and bolted away. But before they could take a step, the creature's long, bony hand seized their leg. Cassian crashed to the floor with a thud. They tried to rise, but the thing pinned their arms to the ground in an instant and loomed over them. Its muzzle hovered mere centimeters from their face. For a moment, the abomination's maw gaped open, revealing row upon row of sharp, needle-like teeth. Then the jaws snapped shut.
...
...
...
"What?" he muttered, standing in the midst of a bustling street, clutching his head with both hands. "How did I get here?"
Inside his skull, something seemed to glow red-hot; searing pain gripped their solar plexus. Then came a sound like shattering glass, and a wave of pure, all-encompassing euphoria flooded their brain, drowning and displacing all the pain. Streams of information, staggering in speed and volume, surged through their consciousness. Afraid to miss anything vital, they instinctively focused—and suddenly realized they already knew it all. Had known it for ages. An inner voice urged them to concentrate on the Structure, and they obeyed.
Words and images in their mind wove together into a cohesive whole, forming a clear, crystalline understanding.
Wound Transfer—to ease the pain and suffering of those dear to you, you must take their wounds upon yourself.
The realization hit suddenly and vividly. They opened their eyes. All their clothes were soaked with sweat, and sudden head spasms periodically made their body convulse.
Gazing at their trembling hands, then shifting their eyes forward, they said quietly but clearly: "Wound Transfer... That's my ability."