Every breath was a shard of glass in his ribs. Kaelen walked with a hunched stagger, one arm wrapped around his torso. The phantom impact of Roric's fist echoed through his body, a brutal lesson in the physics of power. A single punch. That was all it took to reduce him to a groveling, bloody mess. The shame burned hotter than the pain.
He couldn't go home. Not like this. His mother would see the blood, feel the jagged edges of his humiliation, and her worry would be a cage. He needed answers, not comfort. He needed the one person who wouldn't see a victim, but a seeker.
His feet, guided by a memory older than his grief, carried him down into the Warrens. The air grew thick with the smell of rust and ozone, the polished permaglass of the Mid-Levels giving way to the grimy, pulsating heart of the city. He found the non-descript door tucked between a junk dealer and a synth-noodle bar. The flickering rune of a stylized eye was etched into the metal. The Archive.
He pushed the door open, the bell above it chiming a soft, discordant note.
The air inside was cool and still, smelling of old data, dust, and metal. Racks of outdated server blades formed silent canyons, their idle hum a familiar white noise. Behind a counter littered with disassembled tech, the proprietor looked up.
Silas was old in a way that had nothing to do with years. He was hunched and wiry, his skin like worn leather, and a cloud of unruly white hair framed his head. But his most striking feature was his eyes—milky and completely blind. Yet, they fixed on Kaelen with an unnerving accuracy.
"Kaelen," Silas rasped, his voice the sound of dry pages turning. He set down the delicate screwdriver in his hand. "The air around you is... fractured. And you taste of copper and concrete."
Kaelen didn't ask how he knew. He just leaned against the doorframe, his body screaming in protest. "I'm done, Mr.Silas."
"Done with what, boy?"
"Done being a spectator. Done being a target." He pushed off the frame and limped to the counter, his red-rimmed eyes blazing with a desperate fire. "At Lira's recital... I could only watch. Just now, in the courtyard... I could only get punched. My 'gift' is a curse. It just shows me how helpless I am in high definition."
Silas listened, his milky eyes seeming to see the scene play out. "You intervened," he stated. "A null stood against three Trait-Borns. That is not the action of a helpless boy. That is the action of a fool, perhaps, but a brave one."
"It was worthless," Kaelen spat, wincing as the motion tugged at his bruised ribs. "I didn't change anything. I just got hurt. I need more, Silas. I need what my father was looking for. There has to be another way. There has to be a power that isn't just in the blood."
A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Silas nodded. "Come with me."
He turned and moved with a surprising, sure-footed grace into the deeper shadows of The Archive, between the silent canyon walls of server racks. Kaelen followed, his own limping steps loud in the quiet. At the very back of the room, set into the stone wall, was a small, dark safe that looked as old as the city itself. Silas's fingers, guided by a memory etched into his bones, danced across a combination plate. There was a soft click.
From the safe, he withdrew an object and turned, placing it gently into Kaelen's hands.
It was a journal. The cover was worn, soft brown leather, scuffed at the corners. There was no title, but etched into the front was a single, simple symbol: an stylized, unblinking eye. It felt profoundly ordinary, and that made it feel all the more sacred.
"Your father left this for you," Silas said, his voice soft. "He instructed me to give it to you on your eighteenth birthday. He said, it contains an apology and an explanation for his long absences for his absence. His absence before his death. But I see now that you need his guidance more than you need to wait for a birthday."
Kaelen's throat tightened. He ran his thumb over the etched eye. His father's journal. The answer to a thousand questions he'd never been able to ask.
"How do i unlock this, Mr.Silas" Kealin asked still examining the journal. "He said, that it would only open for you when you were truly ready to walk the path he walked. He told me that when it opens, you will find a map inside. A guide to the first step."
Kaelen stared at the journal. An apology. An explanation. A map. It was everything he had ever wanted. The weight of it in his hands was the weight of his father's legacy, not of some mythical codex, but of a man—a flawed, searching man who was his father.
"Where does the first step lead? unlocking it when i am ready, how?" Kaelen asked confused, his voice thick with emotion.
"Dont bombard this old man with your questions, boy" Silas said. "You will get answers when you unlock it, but i do have to warn. The truth your father sought has teeth"
Kaelen held the journal to his chest. The pain of Roric's punch, the memory of shattering glass—it all faded beneath the profound connection he felt to this book. He wasn't just seeking power anymore. He was seeking his father.
"I have to try."
Silas nodded slowly. "Then go. And may your father's words guide you."
Kaelen turned and left The Archive, the leather-bound journal held tight. He didn't look back.
He was no longer just a null seeking power. He was a son following a trail of clues left by his father, hoping it would lead him to an apology, an explanation, and the strength to never be helpless again.
He went out into the streets, not yet heading home due to his blood stains and his piqued curiosity to read the contents of the book. He sat at a secluded area, scanning the book, calmly.
"How do i unlock this?" his thoughts where cut short, as he noticed a pin in the key-hole.
He laid his thumb over the key-hole curiously, feeling the cold metal lock. His hand was pricked all of a sudden, making him flinch as he pulled away in pain from being pricked. His blood dripping into the keyhole.
"Damn book, not unlocking and attacking now" Kealen's irritated words were clear, and in cue, the book replied. Unlocking its lock
Its locks are unlocked. It slowly opened, revealing its content.
"I get to have my answers " Kealen thought, brimming with joy