Chapter 81: You Shall Kill

Elias noticed her fingers on both hands twitching, and he knew what this meant. He had seen her fingers twitch in the same way when she was about to adjust a hem or rethread a needle. It was one of those peculiarities in habit that he always tried to imitate, even though his control over his body as a mortal was perfect; Elias knew it was always the small details that won over the hearts and minds of people.

“May I?” she asked softly, and Elias knew what she wanted, and he nodded. This was the second test. Pyrra may be the most familiar with Talent, but it was Lyssa who knew materials the most, and would she be able to discern that there was something wrong with his [Armament]?

Lyssa reached out and touched the cuff, just the edge, almost as if she was afraid of wrinkling the robe. She ran her thumb along the seam where the sleeve met the shoulder, and Elias knew that she was feeling the weight and the weave that was used to stitch the material together, but he knew she would not find anything. He was imitating clothes, but fundamentally, he was not wearing real clothes.

Elias could see the beginning of irritation rise in her eyes,

“You learned well,” she whispered, “But you did not learn enough. I can see only good work on the surface, but there is a lack of all the necessary details underneath.”

“Cut him some slack,” Kaelen roared after he took a long swallow from his wine jar, “He is still a Wisp and his Will needs time to grow.”

“He has a hundred pounds, and judging from his present height and body, he must have dumped a majority of his points into his physique.”

It was brother Valerius who surprisingly defended him, “The dangers inside the Fragment are great, and Elias had to face something more serious than an average Fragment. He entered a Greater Fragment of Divinity,” he paused, “He would have needed all that power just to survive. He made a wise choice, and as a Wisp, he should be commended above all else for his survival.”

The silence that descended on the gathering was now so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Elias was just learning that he was sent into a Greater Fragment, and it seemed that the rest of the Order here was not aware.

A dangerous light emerged in Kaelen’s eyes, and several of his teachers, including Lyssa, but there was a bit of helplessness inside it, too. Knowing it was one of those situations where he needed to rapidly break the ice before it grew awkward.

Elias cleared his throat, and without rethinking his plan, he placed one of hand over that of Lyssa that was still on his shoulder and she looked up, her eyes widening, letting his naturally deep voice emerge, he said “I have one hundred pools and due to my circumstances I could not push my Will further, but I would make sure I cover all the gaps in my body.”

Feeling the heat of his palm, his voice, and the ridiculously beautiful face he had that had only grown more enchanting, and not even adding the fact that he now towered over her, Lyssa became tongue-tied as a deep blush stained her face.

“I have good teachers.” Elias continued, “And I would not shame your teachings.”

Lyssa stepped back, blinking rapidly, and returned to her seat without another word. The atmosphere of the gathering changed again, shifting from anger to profound amusement, and before long, laughter burst out from the table, and Lyssa could only bury her face in a cup.

Rhys spat in irritation, “Some people just get all the luck. You had a fair face but a small body previously… now look at you, as if you just crawled out of the page of a damn fable.”

More rounds of laughter passed, and Elias still remained standing, knowing that this subtle ritual of acceptance and reintroduction was not over. It was going better than he expected, and for that, he was glad; however, he wondered why the Commander was not with them.

Silas, the Librarian and Archivist, adjusted his spectacles, and Elias could see a faint web of Lumina travelling across them that he would have never noticed before now. The old archivist had been scribbling in his ledger the whole time and had barely looked up when Elias was being questioned and examined, but now he closed it with a soft snap.

“Level nine Wisp,” he said, voice dry but warm. “One hundred pools. And a robe made from your Armament Talent, truly remarkable. I shall need several new pages.”

Once again, a silence descended on the gathering, but thankfully it was short, and Elias was grateful that they were adjusting to the power he had displayed. If they knew that he was holding back another upgrade, he wondered how they would feel. But all of that was his secret that he would preserve, since it was his only assurance that he would be able to survive whatever comes at him in the future.

Although he found it weird that none of them had commented about the rose on his waist, it was almost as if they were not able to see it.

Several rounds of passionate exchange and questions were flung at Elias, and he answered them all with a smile, but then it seemed as if Rhys grew a bit frustrated with the delay, and he pounded the table as he raised up his tankard in what seemed like a mock toast.

“To the runt,” he said. “Who is apparently no longer a runt.”

The table erupted, laughter, groans, someone, probably Orwin, pounding under the table with a fist, making the mountain of food and drinks shake.

Kaelen raised his tankard high when the celebration died down a bit, and he said with surprising solemnity,

“To Elias.”

“To Elias…” they all responded, and they drank.

Elias stood there, robe whispering in the wind, rose glowing at his hip, nine purple marks shining softly against his chest, and he bowed deeply, “You all honor me.”

He could see them all in his mind, Kaelen’s proud grin, Orwin’s wet eyes, Pyrra’s quiet nod, Bram’s small smile, Anya’s raised brow, Lyssa’s trembling hands, Silas’s open ledger, Theron’s stunned wonder, Gideon’s steady gaze, Cora and Fenwick’s matched smirks, Rhys’s crooked toast.

Then, inside him, like a knife in his gut that was slowly being twisted, he heard the voice of the Passenger, and it was the first time it had ever dared to speak when inside the Asylum, it whispered with the voice of the goddess,

“Kill… Kill… Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!”

Elias kept his smile on his face, and finally he was invited to the table, where he sat, and took the tankard that was presented to him, and with a bright glow in his eyes and laughter on his mouth, he raised up his tankard,

“To my teachers, who taught me all I needed to know even before I knew that I needed them. Your wisdom will not be taken for granted, and when I leave here, my actions shall speak of your names.”

There was silence and then a roar of acknowledgement. Elias smiled and laughed along with them, but now the Passenger was no longer speaking in his head; it was beginning to show him… things.

Everyone at this table laughing with him was dead, and from their bodies that had been gruesomely cut to pieces, Elias could see his touch in all of them.

He blinked and continued the celebration with his teachers until the tenth hour, and he was summoned.

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