Chapter 13 – Sparks and Shadows
Sienna sat cross-legged on the woven mat, facing her son Kaelion. The early morning cold kissed her skin—they had woken long before the others. If someone had asked how she ended up here, quietly meditating instead of rushing to the clinic, she wouldn't have known where to begin.
It started three days ago.
She had been walking toward the clinic, satchel of herbs and salves swinging at her side, when something caught her eye—a structure that had no business being there. Roughly three hundred meters from their home, where only a dilapidated ruin had stood, now rose a pristine building. Clean walls. A sturdy frame. It contrasted so sharply with its surroundings that, for a moment, she thought she was hallucinating.
Her instincts screamed at her to march down and demand answers from her son—her son—about how he'd accomplished such a feat. But she had swallowed the urge, held the questions at bay, and waited.
That night, once she returned from the clinic, she pulled Kaelion aside behind closed doors. Her tone was calm, but her eyes burned with questions. He'd only smiled and said, "Don't worry. I have a surprise for you. You'll understand soon."
And now here they were. Three days into what he called "cultivation."
Sienna inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as she attempted once more to "tap into her energy," as Kaelion put it. She still wasn't sure what that meant. Tap into what? Some invisible force she'd never felt before?
But she trusted him. She always had.
Then it began.
A faint warmth bloomed in her chest, like a spark igniting an ember. Her breath caught. The feeling grew—soft waves rolling through her, awakening nerves she hadn't known were still alive. Her lips parted as if she might cry out. A euphoric jolt shot down her spine, like remembering what it was to truly feel.
Her eyes began to open—
"Don't," Kaelion's voice was soft but firm. "You've unlocked your aura nodes. Good. But now you have to control it. If you let it leak like that, you'll pass out in minutes."
She swallowed and nodded, breathing in again.
"Focus inward," he continued. "Think of your aura like water in a skin. Let it flow, but don't spill it. Keep it close."
He walked her through the fundamentals: Ten, Zetsu, and Ren—techniques to contain, conceal, and amplify her newfound energy. Foreign concepts, but his confidence was magnetic.
Then it happened.
Something shifted inside her. It was as if her body had found a new anchor within her soul—like a gravitational pull forming deep in her center.
A core.
She saw it in her mind's eye: black and glossy like obsidian, floating in the ether of her being. Distant, yet so close it made her heart ache.
A second wave of sensation surged. Raw. Deep. Complete.
Tears sprang to her eyes.
Gods, she thought, it feels like… Her lips curled in amused disbelief. Like an orgasm. One I haven't had in five years, if I'm being honest.
When her eyes finally opened, Kaelion was smiling.
"What... what is happening?" she asked, breathless.
Kaelion wiggled his fingers with mock drama, that signature smile on his face. "Magic."
She gave him a stern look, but it only made him chuckle.
He leaned in, eyes sparkling. "You've awakened. You created your core. That's the first big step. From here on, it's classification, refinement, and control."
She absorbed the words, still awestruck. But the question lingering in her mind escaped before she could stop it.
"How did you even learn all this?"
Kaelion had seen that question coming. He was tempted to play it up, maybe joke about being taught by a passing sage or discovering some ancient ring. Hell, it wouldn't have been too far from the truth. But he went with something closer to reality.
"Well... I've always been curious about magic," he said with a shrug. "Figured most of it was a hoax, but I planned on visiting the Citadel anyway. Picked up a few books there, and... the rest is history."
Kind of.
Sienna blinked, the dots connecting faster than she liked. She wasn't sure if she should be more surprised that he intended to go to the Citadel just to test a theory—or that he'd built an entire magical system from scraps of knowledge. She remembered hearing he'd returned early from his trip, though neither he nor Maester Arthur ever explained why.
Under normal circumstances, she might've pressed him harder. But ever since her awakening, something had changed in her senses. She couldn't explain it, but... she could feel when he was telling the truth.
She let it go, her pride swelling instead of doubt.
"There are different types of aura users," he said, bringing over a bowl of water. He gently placed a dry leaf atop its surface. "This test will show your specialization."
She listened carefully as he broke them down: Enhancement. Emission. Manipulation. Conjuration. Transmutation. And the rarest of all—Specialization.
She placed her hand on the bowl.
The leaf shifted. Symbols and patterns began forming on its surface—tiny objects manifesting from nothing.
Kaelion grinned. "Conjurer."
She gasped. "I'm a conjurer?" The wonder in her voice made her sound like a child discovering her first toy.
Next, he taught her Gyo—a technique to sharpen aura perception. She picked it up shockingly fast, even to his surprise.
She laughed aloud, looking around with bright eyes. The air shimmered with subtle energy trails, hidden before. Kaelion stood back, watching her with a small, proud smile.
"Try not to forget you still have a clinic to run," he teased.
"They'll understand!" she called back, waving him off like a giddy apprentice with a new obsession.
He chuckled to himself. Yep. That was his mother.
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The scent of sex and sweat hit him the moment he stepped inside the building.
It was thick and cloying. Groans, gasps, the rhythmic thud of bodies filled the air. Some might've found it arousing. Others, repulsive.
Kaelion found it... irrelevant.
He wasn't above lust. He just had more important things to deal with.
As he walked through the halls, his aura cooled the air around him. He was using In, the technique to suppress one's energy signature.
He hadn't renamed the techniques. Not because he lacked creativity—but because he liked paying homage to the system that inspired it. One of the best fictional power systems ever written, in his opinion.
Inside the private chamber, a man towered over a trembling girl, no older than fifteen, berating her for failing to meet a quota.
Kaelion's mana flared instinctively.
The man turned and froze.
Kaelion under his watching eyes grabs a chair and gets seated, legs crossed, arms folded. A ghost of a smirk played on his lips.
"Who—"
"Kaelion," he cut in smoothly. "And you are?"
The man hesitated, caught between fear and indignation. "V-Varn. Varn Deks. I run this place."
"Then you're exactly the man I'm looking for."
Kaelion's tone darkened.
"You've taken the mother of a boy named Jon. As payment for a debt. She's been here about a month, give or take. I want her back."
He said it like someone discussing the weather.
Varn scoffed. "Listen, kid—"
Then it hit.
Kaelion flared his Ren.
The room exploded with pressure—an invisible wave crashing down. Varn dropped to his knees, color draining from his face. Sweat poured down his temples. His posture shrank, spine curling as if time itself had aged him in seconds.
The girl whimpered in the corner, trying to disappear into the wall. Kaelion hadn't even directed his energy at her.
"Now that I have your attention," he said calmly, "I'm not here to destroy you, Varn. That would be... inefficient."
He stood, easing the pressure just slightly.
"You've got two businesses. One's of the flesh. The other's basically a "loan shark". I'm taking control of both."
Varn couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.
Kaelion knew he couldn't end this trade. That kind of darkness always found a way back.
But I can change the rules, he thought. Less abuse. More choice.
Something closer to... a high-end pleasure house. Modern. Voluntary. No more chains made of debt.
Varn finally nodded, eyes hollow.
Kaelion turned to leave.
"Oh. And I'll be taking Jon's mother. One more thing—this conversation never leaves this room."
His voice dropped to a whisper, laced with something cold and ancient.
"I'd hate to have to kill someone."
He left without waiting for a response.
But both of them—Varn and the girl—understood.
Even if they had no idea what, exactly, had just happened.
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Drop your thoughts and comments down there, I'm feeling good today so extra chapter in 10 minutes.😊😊