Kalon Bloodborn's POV
A blinding light shattered the final veil of my subconscious, pulling me from that deep, dark abyss where I had been reliving my parents' last moments. My eyes fluttered open.
I was greeted by a ceiling of vaulted white stone, inlaid with streaks of gold. It was my room.
My body, once heavy and bound by a fatigue so profound it felt like heavy metal in my bones. Now it was renewed.
'I can't remember ever experiencing such weakness and recovering so smoothly before.' My body was rejuvenated like a dry leaf that had been submerged in the first drop of morning dew.
I stretched beneath the silken sheets, relishing it's cozy embrace.
I remianed prone for a long moment. My mind drifted back to the conversation with Damon from what felt like only hours ago. He was meant to show me around the citadel. To the hall of knowledge and the training grounds.
'I should rise swiftly,' I thought, my internal voice now sounding steadier than it had in days. 'But how will I find him in this maze? The drunt. Proteus will lead the way.'
A sigh broight mr out from my thoughts. I turned my head, and my heart skipped a beat. Damon was there, sitting quietly in the room. Our eyes matched. Intentionally, I kept staring, while he ignored it taking a sip from a silvered cup. The liquid within it was like molten gold, and it gave the room a sweet scent.
He looked entirely too composed for someone who had been waiting.
"A pleasant morning, Kalon," Damon said, tilting his silver cup toward me in a mocking toast. "It seems you've finally found solace in your rest."
I pushed myself up, the weight of sleep slipping off my shoulders. My body felt light, but it was a good thing. "What's with that expression, Damon? How long have I been adrift in slumber? You look like you've been watching a statue grow moss."
Before Damon could answer, a small, rhythmic scratching sound drew my attention to the desk. Proteus, my newly named Drunt and chronicler, stood there. He bowed his head so low his forehead nearly touched the wood.
"Master Kalon," Proteus said, his voice trembling with relief. "The tides of time have moved significantly while you slept. You have been in the grasp of sleep for two weeks. To be precise, fourteen sun-cycles have passed."
"Two weeks!" The words escaped my mouth. I could barely hide my own shock. I had been unconscious for a fortnight. "I must have been swallowed whole by exhaustion."
My gaze shifted to the desk where Proteus had been working. My breath hitched. There were scrolls, half a dozen of them, neatly rolled and tied with twine. On the open one, I saw the cramped script of the Drunt. He had been doing exactly what I had commanded. He was recording my journey.
A flash of fear, sharp and jagged, pierced my ego. I wondered what he had written. The Great Sleep of the Bloodborn? Would the younger generations, the ones I hoped would read my story, see me as a weakling who collapsed at the first sign of pressure? I had a sudden, violent urge to snatch the scrolls and cast them into fire.
But then I looked at thoughtfullyat the scrolls again.
'Father had always said to remain true to oneself. Changing this story might well become my biggest flaw. To find this variable, the cause of mana-shift must be honest about my own limits. First to myself and then the world.'
"Keep writing, Proteus," I said, my voice hardening with resolve. "Do not omit the sleep. If I am to rebuild the world, I must remember how much it cost me just to survive the first day."
Damon clapped his hands with a smirk on his face. "Glad to see the brain survived the sleel. But we've lost enough time."
I made my way toward the bath chamber. I needed to wash and clear my mind completely. "I'll take my time changing," I called out.
Damon's brow lifted, irritation flickering in his scarlet eyes like a flame fanned by a wind. The air in the room grew tensed as his patience thinned. I remembered that Damon is profound scholar in these hallls. To him, two weeks was a lifetime of missed opportunities and I was just a boy that needed help adjusting.
"If you dawdle any longer, Kalon, you'll have to find your way around this labyrinth of the citadel on your own," he warned, though his tone remained friendly. "The scholars don't wait for latecomers, even those with your... pedigree."
I gave a light chuckle, while he clenched his fist. "You could sit vigil over me for two weeks, Damon, but you can't wait a few minutes for me to find my face? You're a terrible host."
I rushed into the bath chamber, the door sliding shut with a silent, runic click. Thr room was soon filled with the scent of crushed mint and steam. I made sure the water was well prepared in the sunken stone tub, lukewarm, exactly matching my taste.
As I submerged myself, I looked at my hands and legs. They were smooth, the skin dark and healthy, devoid of any scars from the rubble. But as the water swirled around me, I felt the warmness of my mother's hand smoothing my hair, and the bitter taste of my father's final blood-magic.
The dream reminded me that my survival wasn't a fluke. Instead it was a mandate. If the world were a living being, then I should think of myself as a cell that had survived an infection. My survival was was decided by my action and inaction.
Taking my time, I relinquished the feel of my bathe. When I finally emerged, I dressed in a fresh tunic of deep charcoal grey, tying my hair back into a tight bun.
Back in the main room, Damon was now standing by the door, tapping his foot in a rhythmic cadence that suggested he was counting the seconds. Proteus was already packing a small satchel with ink and blank parchment. His little ears twitching in anticipation.
"Ready to see the citadel?" Damon asked, his smirk returning.
"Show me," I replied.
As we stepped out of the room and passed the hallways. Selene had shown me only the way to my room, but Damon was taking me to the whole city.
We met scholars in embroidered coats. Each person had a subtle air around them. I couldn't tell if it was confidence alone. Many of them recognized Damon, even a few of the Sols and Phantoms that had visited Stygia. I was yet to come across Aeolians and Dryads since coming to Stygia.
Damon was a well known in this city. Everywhere we went, he was greeted with a reverence that spoke of one thing. He was a "genius." Looking back at him, I saw someone that was worth learning in my new journey.