Chapter 12: A Lesson in Silence
The silence in the Prince's chambers was heavy and awkward. Eldrin stared at the upright, black-haired figure before him. Cain. The guard who had saved his life a few hours ago now stood in his private chambers at his own command. The air was still cold with the residual terror from the night before.
Caelan Valtherion—stood with a straight back, chin slightly raised, the perfect posture of a soldier awaiting orders. Inwardly, however, his mind was a storm of cold analysis.
A private summons to the Prince's chambers. Immediately after the attack. What does this mean?
He ran through every possibility. A reward for his actions? Too soon and too personal. A veiled interrogation to find out who he was? Possible. Or, most likely and most dangerously, this was a test. The next move in a chess game whose rules he did not understand.
Eldrin swallowed, his throat as dry as a desert. He had rehearsed this line in his head at least ten times, yet the words felt foreign and heavy on his tongue. This was a gamble. A leap of faith born of pure desperation. He hated appearing weak. He hated asking for help. But he hated the possibility of dying even more.
Just say it. You need this to survive. There's no other choice.
"I..." Eldrin began, his voice coming out hoarser and more hesitant than he wanted. He cleared his throat, trying to find the false calm that had become his shield. "I saw what you did in the corridor."
Caelan remained silent, his deep, dark eyes unblinking, like two black holes absorbing all light and emotion. He simply waited.
"I want you to... teach me," Eldrin continued, forcing the words from his throat. Each syllable felt like a confession of failure. "Teach me how to fight like you. Teach me... about the power you use."
The request hung in the cold air, feeling fragile and humiliating to Eldrin. It was a total admission of weakness, a complete surrender.
To Caelan, it was a nonsensical anomaly.
Teach him?
Prince Vaelmont? The ruler of Vaelmont whose command destroyed a bridge and cut off an enemy supply line in one unexpected, genius maneuver? The figure he believed possessed such perfect Aether control that he could erase his own presence? Asking a low-ranking guard he had just met to teach him... from the basics?
Caelan felt a chill creep up his spine. This isn't a request.
This is a test.
A test far deeper, more layered, and more dangerous than he could have ever imagined. He's testing my loyalty. He's testing my ability to keep a secret. Or more likely... he's playing the role of a clueless novice to see how much I will reveal about myself and my knowledge. A game within a game. Incredible...
On the surface, Caelan merely nodded his head with perfect deference, his face remaining expressionless.
"As you wish, Your Highness."
The private training hall in the castle's west wing had been untouched for a long time. A fine layer of dust covered the sturdy wooden floor, and the air within was stale with the scent of old wood. In the corner, a training dummy stood tilted, its shield, carved with the Vaelmont lion, cracked and faded. It was another reflection of the original Prince Eldrin—a young man who had avoided violence in all its forms.
Caelan stood in the center of the room, while Eldrin watched him with a mixture of small hope and immense nervousness.
"Before we touch a sword, Your Highness," Caelan began, his voice echoing in the empty room, "you must understand the source of all power. It is not magic, as the mages in the Conclave speak of. It is Aether."
"Aether?" Eldrin repeated. The word was familiar from the game, but he needed certainty.
"Internal life energy," Caelan explained concisely, choosing the most practical and fundamental words. I will start from the very beginning, he thought. If I use terms like 'affinity resonance' or 'Nexus Regulator', his game will be over. He wants to see if I can convey the essence. "Every living being possesses it. It is generated and stored in the Aether Core, then circulated throughout the body via the Flow Network. By training it, one can enhance physical strength, speed, and endurance."
Eldrin frowned. This was completely different from the magic system in the game.
"So... there's no external 'mana pool'? It's all from within?" he asked, the question slipping out from his gamer's logic.
Caelan paused for a moment, analyzing.
'Mana pool'. A strange term. Not from any ancient language I know. Is this a code? Another test to gauge the depth of my knowledge?
"That is correct, Your Highness," Caelan replied, his voice remaining calm. "The concept of drawing on external Mana is a very high and different art. The foundation for a warrior, for us, is internal Aether."
Eldrin nodded slowly, trying to process. "Then... the Inner Gates? I've heard them mentioned."
"The Inner Gates are levels of understanding and mastery over Aether," Caelan said, continuing his role as a teacher. "The First Inner Gate is Awareness—the moment you can first feel your Aether Core. The Second Inner Gate is Circulation—the ability to consciously flow that Aether through your body."
"How does one 'open' an Inner Gate?" Eldrin asked again, his genuine curiosity sounding like a clever interrogation to Caelan's ears. "Is there a special item, or is it just... grinding?"
Again, Caelan paused. This time, his confusion was more real.
Grinding? As in to grind something to powder. Is that a metaphor for repetitive training that breaks down the body and soul until the essence emerges? Or is it code for an ancient ritual involving the destruction and reformation of the Aether Core? That is highly dangerous... but if it's him... He's deliberately using simple, ambiguous terms to hide his true understanding. He's forcing me to interpret.
"There are no items, Your Highness," Caelan answered, his eyes now watching Eldrin with a new intensity. "Only focus. Discipline. And will."
Caelan decided to "play along" completely. If the Prince wanted to pretend to be a novice, he would be the most basic of teachers.
"Please sit, Your Highness. Close your eyes. Focus on your breath. Ignore the world around you. Try to feel the center of your being. A warmth, a pulse, no matter how small. That is the beginning of everything."
Eldrin sat cross-legged on the cold wooden floor, feeling incredibly foolish. Meditation. Of course. It always starts with boring meditation.
He tried to follow Cain's instructions. He closed his eyes, regulated his breathing. For the first few minutes, all he felt was boredom and the chill of the floor seeping into his legs. His mind drifted to his old life, to an unfinished project at the office, to the taste of the last meal his sister had cooked...
Focus. You could die if you don't do this.
He tried again. Now all he felt was a sudden, intense itch on his nose. His back began to ache. The silence in the room was deafening, filled only with the anxious thumping of his own heart. He wanted to give up. This was useless. There was nothing inside him. Just emptiness and panic.
Of course. At the most important moment of my new life, while trying to unlock a hidden power to survive, my nose decides this is the perfect time to itch. Incredible.
It was then, at the peak of his frustration, sarcasm, and exhaustion, at the moment he truly let go of all effort and resigned himself to his own foolishness...
He felt it.
Faintly. So, so faintly.
A strange warmth in his lower abdomen. Not a physical sensation like warm food, more like an echo of warmth. A pulse so weak it was almost imperceptible, like the heartbeat of a tiny, sleeping bird.
It lasted for just a moment, a single pulse... then vanished.
Eldrin's eyes snapped open, a soft gasp escaping his lips, a mixture of utter shock and confusion on his face. What was that?
From across the room, Caelan had been observing him with "Focused Aether Sight." He had seen Eldrin's posture, which had been perfectly relaxed from the start—not the stiff posture of a novice, but that of a master who didn't need to try. He had seen Eldrin's calm expression during the process—not a struggle, but deep concentration. And then, for a nearly invisible split second, he saw it.
A flash of Aether.
It wasn't an uncontrolled leak of energy like a beginner would experience. No. This was a single, tiny, intensely pure point of light that pulsed once at the location of the prince's Aether Core, then vanished without a trace. A manifestation so controlled, so subtle, that if he had blinked, he would have missed it.
It was the final nail in the coffin of Caelan's doubt.
Impossible... Caelan thought, a chill that had nothing to do with the room's temperature running down his spine. I gave him the most basic instructions. Something that takes the most talented recruits weeks to even feel the first echo of their Aether Core. And he... on his first attempt...
A terrible and awe-inspiring conclusion formed in his mind.
He didn't find it. He already knew exactly where it was. The flash in his eyes wasn't the shock of discovery, but the shock that he had succeeded in suppressing his ocean-sized power into a single dewdrop, and allowed it to be seen for just a moment.
This wasn't practice. This was a demonstration. A message.
He isn't just hiding his power. He is rebuilding his foundation from scratch. From the First Inner Gate. For what purpose? Why would someone with his level of mastery do something so fundamental?
Caelan stepped forward and bowed deeply, much lower than before.
"An excellent session for today, Your Highness," he said, his voice now laced with a different, deeper note of respect, trembling slightly with awe. "You... have far surpassed my expectations."
He turned and left the room without waiting for a reply, leaving Eldrin sitting dumbfounded on the floor, completely misunderstanding what kind of praise he had just received for his itchy nose and bizarre luck.
As Caelan walked down the silent corridor, a thin, cold smile touched his lips.
This puzzle... is getting more dangerous. And much, much more interesting.