Chapter 71

My mind raced as I considered what to say. No more secrets — that is what I had promised my family. Was I going to lie to them so soon despite what I had said? I certainly didn’t want to. But, there was no doubt in my mind that explaining what had just happened would raise questions. In the end, I just had to decide whether or not I trusted them — and I did.

“The Myriad Paths sent a bunch of messages and then gave me an Achievement. Also, the Skill name changed,” I said quietly as I looked down like I had done something wrong.

I hadn’t of course — at least, not really. But then, I also hadn’t told them everything last time.

“What did the messages from the Myriad Paths say?” Gramps asked.

I relayed them word for word, reading directly off the notification.

Gramps and Mum looked at each other — matching blue eyes — one set pushing for silence and the other for revelation. Mum clearly didn’t want to talk about how this could be related to my birth and the demonic cult. Gramps, however, was clearly ready to spill the beans. That all assumed I was reading their looks correctly, but I had known them both for basically my entire life — so I was pretty confident. Certainly, I had fragments of memories from my previous life, but with every year, they felt more distant and less relevant. This, here and now, was who I was — and I was ready to get them to be honest with me so we could move beyond this state of fear. One that I felt was affecting everyone involved.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I said, interrupting their staring match.

Mum shifted her gaze to me, her eyes softening in the process. “What do you mean, Sweetheart?”

“You’re looking at each other like Gramps wants to say something, and you don’t want him to. Is this about why Magatha sometimes gives me funny looks… and why I don’t look like either of you?”

Was I leading the conversation using the knowledge that I was adopted? Yes, yes I was. That information was the barrier between the circumstances of my birth and Mum’s willingness to discuss them.

“I told you he would figure it out, Penny. With a mental stat as high as his, I am almost surprised he didn’t ask something sooner,” Gramps grumbled.

Mum, however, just looked sad. “Does Magatha do that often? Give you funny looks?”

“Just sometimes when you call me your son,” I hedged.

She looked away from me, her lips pursed in anger. It was the same sort of look she had when Magatha had used a spell on me. I had a strong feeling my brewing lessons were going to come to an end soon. Oh well, little loss in my mind. Magatha had annoyed me in her own way with the constant flirting with Mum despite being constantly rebuffed. Maybe she was a little more refined in her attempts than the miners had been, but her persistence was its own flavour of creepy.

“Does she look at me like that because you didn’t give birth to me like how Jennifer gave birth to Francis?” I asked, pushing the issue.

I thought Mum might keep asking me questions as a way to avoid answering mine. Instead, she turned her chair to face me and leaned forward, cupping my cheeks gently with her hands. They were soft against my skin despite all the hard work she did around the outpost — and just a little warm. Her bright blue eyes were slightly wet, on the verge of tears and trying to hold them back.

“Even if I didn’t give birth to you, you are my son. You always have been, and you always will be.”

I tried not to cry and failed, my childish emotions bubbling up and overwhelming me in an instant. She pulled me onto her lap, arms wrapping around me tightly.

The world looked blurry through my tears as I slowly got myself under control. Gramps was looking at us with a soft smile and eyes that were blatantly holding back tears.

“Like your mother said, lad. We’re your family, regardless of what came before. You’ve been with us since shortly after your birth.”

I nodded, nestling into my Mum’s chest even if I was starting to get a bit big for it now that I was five. “And before that? Is that the reason for these messages?”

Path of Deception ticked up since I knew for a fact they were.

With Mum too busy holding and rocking me, it was Gramps who answered. “We think so. The people you were found with were… not nice people. They did some very bad things, and it seems some of those things might have involved you. I am guessing here — but it’s probably why you unlocked your Status early, and why you already had the Path of Exceptionalism. It might even be the reason you have such a powerful Shadow affinity. Now there is this as well — I don’t know what to make of it, but I suspect it’s all connected.”

I tilted my head to look up at Mum. “I don’t care about any of that. You’re my Mum.”

The words had the desired effect. Mum nodded, holding me tight with fresh tears falling down her pale cheeks. Seeing her happy tears made me feel a little better about making her cry as well as my decision to bring this topic up. It was bound to happen eventually, but this was probably earlier than planned.

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It took a little while, but eventually, we all calmed down and I slipped back into my own chair. Mum still kept hers facing me though, wearing her heart on her sleeve as she watched me with a mixture of love and worry.

“Should I try the Skill then?” I asked Gramps.

He nodded. “When you’re ready.”

Mentally, I touched on the feeling of the Skill within my aether core. Aether flowed out from the swirling dark mass, rushing down my channels until the tendrils reached out of my shoulders. Around me, the shadows shifted like a living thing, swaying in a breeze that didn’t exist. Then, slowly, they began to drift towards me like pieces of torn fabric as they wrapped themselves around me. Like fragments of a greater whole, they drew together into a threadbare cloak that surrounded me in darkness from head to toe.

“Huh.”

The sound came from Gramps as he looked at me.

“What is it?” Mum asked, her tone one of worry.

Gramps frowned. “I can’t sense the aether he’s using.”

Did I just hear that right? I thought. Does the Royal addition to the Skill conceal the aether used as well, or is that just because it’s the Greater grade version of the Skill?

Staring back at Gramps as I considered what to do next was like peering at the old man through a wafer thin curtain while shadows drifted across my face. The strain on my aether channels was slowly building, a very mild burning sensation flowing through them. Feeling the drain on my aether core was surprisingly fine, and I realised my Shadow affinity was greatly reducing the aether required to power the Skill.

I released the Skill a moment later — the shadows flaking off me and vanishing as the aether dispersed into the air.

“Powerful Skill for a kid,” Gramps commented with a smirk.

“Thanks,” I said, suddenly shy about it and not fully recovered from my earlier emotions.

Mum picked up on my apprehensiveness. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight out back? You can make a bonfire and show off a little, Dad. I’ll cook up both of your favourites — roast lamb and gravy with some steamed vegetables.”

I perked up immediately. Just like my grandfather, I loved Mum’s cooking. But all her other dishes paled in comparison to her roast lamb. The reminder of one of the things Gramps and I shared also helped ground my emotions. The pair of us couldn’t agree fast enough, and Mum dusted herself off, giving us a smile before leaving the office to start prepping for dinner.

Pushing myself out of my chair, I headed for the door, only for Gramp's voice to bring me to a halt.

“I don’t know what they did to you, Bastian. But whatever it was, it doesn’t have to define you. You can become whoever you want to be.”

I smiled at his reassurance and glanced back at him. “I want to be the best. Strong enough to protect you and Mum, and to see the world.”

Gramps chuckled. “Keep up the hard work then. With your attributes and work ethic you’re on track to be one of the best adventurers, if not the best, in Meravia or Ajinar. Your Mum and I will support you all the way. Now shoo. I’ve got some new information to write about.”

The afternoon passed as usual with sword practice, but as the sun set and my fellow martial pupils went home, Gramps came outside to join me. Together, we roamed the edges of the woods in the distance, collecting piles of dead wood and carrying them back to the outpost. With each trip, the future bonfire size grew until it stood taller than me.

With the sun finally going down, we dragged a few furs outside, laying them over the stones to give us somewhere comfortable to sit. Then Gramps kickstarted the impromptu festivities. With a flick of his finger, a fizzing ball of fire made a whoosh sound and crashed into the heart of our overly large pile of sticks. The wood drank in the heat, flames climbing into the sky.

I settled in next to Mum, accepting my bowl and fork as we began to eat. The fire was comforting in the same way Gramps was. I wondered if — in the future — I ever got another affinity slot, would I choose fire to fill it with fire to be a little more like him?

In my musings, I stared up at the night sky, and it was like the world was giving me the answer to the question I had just asked. Right there above us — streaking across the sky with a red tail trailing in its wake — was a shooting star.

Even as I thought that it was a sign, I was pointing it out to Mum and Gramps.

“Look! A shooting star!”

Mum and Gramps both looked up. Mum and I marvelled at the streak of fire crossing the heavens, but the look on Gramps’ face was more pensive.

I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Mum asked.

“When a shooting star crosses the sky, a new Dungeon is born,” Gramps answered.

I looked down from the fiery comet and over to the old codger. “Really? How does that work?”

Gramps just shrugged, pulling his fur coat tighter around him despite the heat from the bonfire.

“It’s been studied over the years and plenty of scholars have noted the events. How every time a shooting star crosses the skies slowly, just like that —” He jabbed his finger at the sky. “A new dungeon has appeared in the days following it.”

“Does it mean anything for us?” Mum asked.

Gramps gave it a moment's thought before shaking his head. “It shouldn’t unless it lands in Meravia. But it’ll change the balance of power between nations. Dungeons always do.”

“Gramps,” I said, grabbing his attention. “If new dungeons appear every time there is a shooting star, how come there aren’t more dungeons nearby?”

He looked back into the fire. “Because sometimes dungeons die, or worse, breach.”

“Like Rifts?” I asked.

He nodded to my question. “Just like Rifts, only on a far larger scale. Ask your Mum to tell you the story of Deeping Gorge sometime.”

“Why not tonight?” I asked almost petulantly, looking between the old man and Mum.

“Because such stories aren’t good for little boys before bed,” Mum said as she wrapped the furs around us now that we had all finished eating.

I let the subject drop, instead falling into my own thoughts. If dungeons could die, did that also mean they could be killed?