Bab 13: 13. Echoes of Power
The quiet after the encounter with the shadowy figure was almost worse than the confrontation itself. The heavy silence in the hall wrapped around Viole like a suffocating cloak, each breath he took feeling colder than the last. He stood still, his sword lowered, his mind reeling from what had just happened. The figure's final words echoed in his thoughts, whispering dark truths he wasn't ready to confront.
"You cannot escape what you are."
The mark on his palm throbbed faintly, the dull ache a reminder of the power he had unleashed. He wasn't sure where it had come from or why it had appeared when it did, but it had saved him. Still, the figure's warning lingered, and Viole knew this wasn't the end.
Seris was the first to break the silence, her voice a sharp contrast to the stillness around them. "That thing wasn't just part of the trial," she said, her eyes narrowed as she glanced around the hall. "It was after you."
Toren, nursing his injured arm, let out a low growl of frustration. "Of course it was after him. It was that mark. That thing reacted to it."
Viole said nothing, his gaze still fixed on the spot where the figure had vanished. He didn't know why the creature had singled him out or what it had meant by those words, but one thing was clear—it was connected to the shard, to the power he had taken. The mark on his palm wasn't just a random consequence of the trial. It was something more. Something dangerous.
Seris moved closer, her sharp eyes locking onto Viole's hand. "That mark… it's not normal, Viole. Whatever power you tapped into, it's tied to something ancient. Something none of us fully understand."
Viole met her gaze, his jaw tightening. "I know."
Toren snorted, his frustration evident. "So, what now? That thing said it's not over. You think it'll come back?"
Viole wasn't sure. He could still feel the remnants of the figure's presence, like a shadow lurking just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to strike again. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice low. "But I think this is just the beginning."
The silent boy, who had remained an enigma throughout the trial, still hadn't spoken. He stood a few feet away, his expression as unreadable as ever, his eyes fixed on Viole as if waiting for something. Viole couldn't shake the feeling that the boy knew more than he was letting on, but now wasn't the time to ask.
Seris let out a sigh, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "We need to find the instructors, tell them what happened. They need to know about that thing."
Toren nodded in agreement, his lips curling into a grimace as he glanced at his injured arm. "Yeah. I could use a healer."
Viole hesitated. The academy was full of secrets, layers of hidden agendas that stretched far beyond the trials. If they told the instructors about the shadowy figure and the mark on his palm, would they help—or would they see him as a threat?
He turned toward the main entrance of the hall, his steps slow and deliberate. "Let's go," he said quietly. "We'll figure it out once we know what they're hiding."
Seris and Toren followed without a word, though Viole could feel their unease growing with each passing moment. The atmosphere in the academy had shifted since the trial, and it wasn't just the strange encounter with the shadowy figure that was to blame. There was something else. A presence that had been disturbed, awakened by their actions in the cavern.
As they made their way through the twisting corridors of the academy, the silence deepened. The stone walls seemed to close in around them, the flickering torchlight casting long, distorted shadows that danced along the floor. Every corner felt like a potential ambush, every creak of the ancient stone making Viole's heart race just a little faster.
The personalities within him stirred again, their voices rising like a chorus of whispers in the back of his mind. Clark was the loudest, his voice dripping with disdain.
"You're weak, Viole. You let that thing get too close. Next time, I won't be so kind."
Aamon, ever cold and calculating, followed close behind. "He's right. You need us. You may have held on for now, but the time will come when you won't be able to. You'll need me."
Viole pushed their voices down, his jaw clenching as he focused on his surroundings. He couldn't afford to let them take over—not now, not when so much was still unknown. But their presence was stronger now, more insistent, as if the power of the shard had unlocked something within them as well. They were pushing harder, testing his limits.
Seris glanced over at him as they walked, her sharp eyes catching the tension in his posture. "You okay?" she asked, her voice quieter now, more concerned.
Viole nodded, though he wasn't sure if it was the truth. "I'll be fine," he muttered, though the weight of the personalities in his mind made that feel like a lie.
The corridors stretched on, each turn feeling longer and more foreboding than the last. The academy was a labyrinth of stone and shadow, its secrets buried deep beneath the surface. Viole had only scratched that surface, and already he could feel the weight of what lay below—danger, power, and something far older than any of them could comprehend.
They finally reached the entrance to the instructors' wing, a massive stone door adorned with ancient carvings that depicted scenes of battle, magic, and conquest. The air around it was thick with the energy of countless trials and lessons learned, a reminder of the power the academy held over its students.
Seris raised her hand to knock, but before she could, the door creaked open on its own. A tall figure stepped into the doorway, his sharp features cast in shadow by the dim light of the corridor. His eyes gleamed with cold intelligence as they swept over the group.
It was one of the instructors—a man named Rethis, known for his strict discipline and ruthless teaching methods. His presence alone was enough to send a chill down Viole's spine.
"What are you doing here?" Rethis asked, his voice as sharp as his gaze. "The trial was supposed to be completed hours ago."
Toren stepped forward, his injured arm hanging at his side. "We finished the trial, but something… else happened." His voice was strained, the pain from his wound evident in his tone.
Rethis's eyes narrowed as they locked onto Toren's arm, and then shifted to Viole. "What do you mean by 'something else'?"
Seris stepped forward, her expression serious. "There was a creature. Not part of the trial. It was after Viole."
Rethis's gaze flicked to Viole, his eyes narrowing even further. "After you?" he repeated, his voice cold. "What exactly happened?"
Viole hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. The mark on his palm throbbed faintly, a reminder of the power he had tapped into. He didn't know how the instructors would react to that—whether they would see it as a threat, or as something to be controlled.
But before he could answer, the mark flared with a sudden, sharp pain, and Viole stumbled back, gasping as the energy surged through him again. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he saw the figure—the shadowy entity with glowing red eyes—standing behind Rethis, watching him.
The figure's voice echoed in his mind, a dark whisper that chilled him to the bone.
"You cannot escape what you are, Viole."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone