CHAPTER 6 — Threads of Fate
The morning mist clung stubbornly to Ravel Village, curling around the crooked rooftops and twisting into the corners of the cobblestone paths. The air carried a cold tang of dew and the faint smoke of the villagers' fires. To anyone else, it was ordinary. To Eyron, it was a map.
He stood atop the small hill behind their home, hands behind his back, eyes scanning. Analyse hummed faintly in his mind, a pulse of awareness far beyond human senses. Every motion in the village, every conversation, every heartbeat carried information.
"Seven days," he whispered, almost to himself, thinking of the warning the angels had left in the form of a pulse and the LV.2 evolution of his Analyse. "Seven days… and they'll be here."
The twins tumbled onto the hill, squealing, oblivious to the tension.
"Big brother! Look!" the first twin, Liam, held up a small bundle of wildflowers. "We found these for you!"
Eyron crouched, letting a faint smile brush his lips. "For me, really?"
Liam nodded eagerly, eyes wide. "They're the best! I picked the brightest ones!"
His other twin, Lisha, pointed at a cluster of stones by the hill. "And I made a little castle! You can rule it!"
Eyron's Analyse flickered as he assessed their emotions: adoration, joy, complete dependence. Perfect. He patted their heads lightly. "Good work. You've done well."
From the edge of the village, a voice called softly, almost hesitant.
"Eyron…"
He turned. A girl about his age stood on the path, auburn hair catching the weak morning light. Her basket swayed lightly with herbs and small vegetables. Eyes wide, but something deeper lurked beneath—a curiosity, admiration, a nervous intensity.
Analyse immediately identified her emotional state: admiration, interest, hesitancy, and a potential for loyalty.
Eyron inclined his head slightly. "Good morning. You're early."
"I… I didn't want to bother," she said quickly, stepping closer. "I—uh—I brought some herbs for your mother. Thought she might need them for… for cooking."
Eyron arched an eyebrow, voice calm, small smirk hidden. "For my mother, or for me?"
Her cheeks reddened instantly. "I—I meant… I wanted to meet you, actually."
Eyron tilted his head, silent, letting the Analyse read every microexpression, every heartbeat, every flicker of hesitation. She was… intrigued. Interesting.
At that moment, Lily, the quiet fourth-born, appeared behind him, hands folded demurely. She studied the girl with faint suspicion.
"Who is this?" Lily asked softly, though not unkindly.
Eyron's gaze didn't waver. "She's… Emilia," he said simply. "She brought something for our mother."
Lily nodded slowly, her eyes flicking to Emilia. Protective. Cautious. Loyal. Exactly as expected.
The twins ran ahead, shouting as they brought Emilia to their mother.
"Mother! Look! She brought herbs!"
Eyron's mother smiled, but her eyes flickered with curiosity. "Thank you, Emilia. That was very thoughtful."
Emilia curtsied lightly. "It was nothing, ma'am. I—I just wanted to help."
Arian, leaning against the doorway, whispered to Eyron, smirking: "Interesting, little brother. She seems… taken with you."
Eyron's lips twitched faintly. "Observation noted. Emotional lever potential. We'll see if useful."
Sera, silent as always, gave a quiet hum of approval. "Keep your distance. Observe first."
Lily, still watching Emilia, muttered under her breath: "Hmph… I'll be keeping an eye on her."
Analyse flared subtly. He could track every shift in their emotions, the tiniest deviations, and even begin predicting reactions. Social interactions were no longer messy—they were data.
By mid-morning, Eyron walked through the village streets with the twins and Lily trailing. Emilia followed timidly at a distance, hands gripping her basket.
"Eyron," Emilia asked softly, "why do you… seem different from everyone else?"
He glanced down, eyes cold and precise. "Different how?"
"You… you notice everything," she said. "You seem to know what people are thinking… before they even speak."
He allowed a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "That's not noticing. That's understanding. You can learn it too, if you pay attention."
She blinked, a mix of awe and nervous excitement flickering in her eyes.
Analyse pulsed as he calculated: her potential for observation was high, her intentions pure, but her loyalty could be influenced subtly. Very useful.
A group of villagers walked by, two men grumbling about taxes. Eyron whispered to Emilia, "Watch how they react to each other. One is lying. The other knows it."
She stiffened, eyes wide, then nodded as she noticed the subtle microexpressions he pointed out.
"Yes… I see," she breathed.
"Good," he said softly. "Observation is the first step. Control comes next."
Analyse flared as he scanned further—the royal messenger still approaching the outskirts. Angels' pulses came intermittently, like distant drumbeats in the sky.
At sunset, the family gathered in the main room. Emilia remained near the doorway, shy but curious, watching Eyron.
"I think she's clever," Arian whispered to him quietly. "Not like the others. She might be… a problem if she interferes."
"Or an asset," Eyron murmured back, barely audible.
His mother, still uneasy, said, "Eyron, I think it's time we talk about moving again. If the royal capital is sending messengers…"
Analyse immediately flared: fear, worry, but also hesitation. They were holding back truths, as always.
"Mother," he said quietly, almost menacingly calm, "I understand. But running won't solve anything. Strategy will. And I know how to manipulate outcomes."
Twilight stretched across the village. The angels' pulses were closer now, sharper.
Emilia shifted, a quiet sound of concern. "Eyron… what are they?"
He tilted his head, voice soft but precise: "Something dangerous. Something far beyond this village. But for now, they are observers. And we… we are not prey. Not yet."
Lily's eyes narrowed at the girl, still protective. "Stay close. Watch. Learn."
That night, Eyron stood under the oak tree once more. Analyse pulsed against his consciousness, sharper than ever.
Emilia appeared silently beside him, drawn by instinct. "You're… not afraid?" she asked.
He looked at her, eyes glinting in the moonlight. "Fear is useless. Understanding is everything."
Analyse flared suddenly, a sharp pulse through his mind. Angels. Messengers. Royal agents. Closing in.
And somewhere, unseen, a faint ripple of wings brushed the night sky.
Eyron's lips curved into a smile, cold, precise, and unstoppable.
> "Then let them come. I'm ready."