Kalon Bloodborn's POV
As Damon led me through the entrance, all my senses flooded immediately. The dining hall was crowded. Thousands of voices created a low, harmonic hum that bounced off the runic pillars, and the air was thick, with a fragrant of soup, spiced meats and rich tea.
Damon led me toward a circular table near one of the grand windows that nearedthe canter. Three people were already there, each a different races.
"Kalon, meet the group," Damon said, dropping into a seat gracefully.
"This is Nora. The ones who keep me sane. Mostly." Nora, a Lamian girl with black braided hair was the first Damon introduced. During our walk, he had made mention of her names several times, though he might not have noticed. It was clear she was his close friend and as such would know more about him than the rest.
She streched her hand in "It's good to see you finally awake, Kalon. Damon was starting to worry he'd have to start using magic on you." Her voice was warm and gave me genuine comfort. She didn't look at me like we were already friends and for that I would return same.
Damon rolled his eyes away, then gesturing to the Sol "It would have been worth a try. Here's Jared."
"The survivor of Bloodville! Respect, to you. Stygia's walls are strong, but surviving the shift out there... that takes some grit." Jared, a Sol boy with light skin and a jovial, easy-going presence, gave a sharp nod. Jared was welcoming, but I could tell he didn't see anything special about me. To him, I was a simple survivor, a boy lucky to make it to this fortress. His respect was for my luck, not my potential.
"This here is Clovis" Jared said nudging to the Phantom to his side. He had pale white skin, and dark flowing hair. From that single glance I could tell he was more reserved, barely speaking a word, but his eyes never left me. Perhaps because he was intrigued by the boy who had survived the mana-shift.
"Welcome" Clovis said with a simple nod.
I sat down, and Proteus moved to stand behind me. Nora carried a tray of food towards the table.
"Eat," Nora urged. "You have two weeks of missed meals to make up for."
I began to eat, the well garnished food. But the peaceful atmosphere didn't last.
The temperature in the hall dropped. I felt a sudden, icy pressure at the back of my neck, an aura so cold it felt like a blade. I looked up to see a girl striding toward us. She was a Noden, her fiery red hair braided into a ponytail that whipped behind her. Her eyes, a hazel green.
Unlike many, who embraced the elegant, embroided coats and tunic of the Lamians, she wore something quite different. An apron of heavy leather hung over a simple linen dress, and sturdy boots thudded against the stone floor. She carried it with blunt admirable pride. But it was the twin axes at her side that made my pulse spike.
My body, triggered on its own. My muscles tensed, and my mana rishing through my vessels as though I was ready to fight.
"You must be the newcomer," she said, her voice icy cold. "Ariadne."
I took her hand, and immediately noticed the roughness of her calluses that made my senses jolt. It must have been the result of years of wielding those axes. I had just met a warrior.
"Is something wrong? You've been staring since I got here," she teased, though there was no warmth in it.
"Oh, I couldn't help but notice you seem different from the rest," I replied, my voice steady despite the agitation her presence caused.
The table went quiet. Jared shot me a warning glance as if pleading that I back off. Nora looked at Ariadne with a a knowing worry. I wondered if they were close. But I couldn't see her being one bold enough to deal with the Noden's icy temper.
"Are you calling me strange?" Ariadne's said in the unnatural silence.
"Your dress. It's not common around here," I clarified, trying to ease the tension, but failing.
"I won't be let down by a small-minded bigot," Ariadne snapped, her words striking me like ice. Immediately my appetite left. My mouth turning dry as the food didn't look appealing again.
She was a fundamentalist of the "Mana Principle," believing that mana was the only truth, the only path to supremacy. To her, any talk of "spirit energy" or variables was a heresy against the Oracle's law.
Anger, hot and sudden, flared in my gut. I slammed my hand against the table with reinforced mana. To my shock, the wood didn't splinter. Instead, a faint blue glow rippled out from my palm, the runic patterns of the table absorbing the impact with a low hum.
Ariadne didn't flinch. Her gaze remained steady, the arrogant pride unhinged. Without a word, she sat beside me, unfazed by my outburst. Her presence tested my calm but i could endure a little longer.
"Well, that was quick. Kalon getting into a spat with Ariadne," Jared remarked, his tone dripping with amusement."Stop that, Jared. You're just souring the mood," Nora interjected, trying to quell the rising tension.
I chose to ignore their exchange, focusing instead on the haughty Noden beside me. Sitting next to her was uneasing. Her constant prodding made my stomach churn.
"We shouldn't keep quiet because of a little tension, now should we? Kalon made an interesting point back in his room. It might pique your interest, Ariadne," Damon interjected,
"He believes that mana isn't the entirety of life," he continued. I was perplexed by Damon's sudden shift in tone, but I kept eating, the food moving from plate to mouth, as I tried to maintain my composure. But then, an eerie sensation crawled up my spine, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Turning my head toward the source of the mounting pressure, I found Ariadne's icy stare locked onto me, her gaze as sharp, sending a shiver down my spine.
"What?" I asked.
"You don't believe in the mana principle?" Her words sliced through the air. My peers suddenly seemed more interested in their meals, avoiding eye contact like it was a contagious disease.
"Yes, what of it? We're all free to have our beliefs," I replied, my voice steady.
"Perhaps here in Stygia, but anywhere else, you'd be dead, Kalon. I can see there's something actually wrong with you," she shot back, her words unforgiving. I chose to ignore her continued bickering, instead turning towards Nora.
"I've noticed these patterns on several furnitures. What are they?" I asked.
"The runes," Clovis whispered, his first words of the morning. "They were brought by the Guardian himself to protect the hall from... outbursts."
"A simple skill," Jared added, trying to lighten the mood. "It does little to change the tide of a real battle, so not many bother practicing it."
"It helps me accumulate the cold in my axes," Ariadne countered, her eyes narrowing as she sat beside me. "But I wouldn't expect a 'survivor' who doubts the power of mana to understand the harmony of the simple patterns."
I stared at her, the urge to fight her, to prove that my father's theories were right and her laws were incomplete, burned in my chest. But I held back. I remembered my mother's teaching.
'A scholar wins with truth, not with a fist.'
"It's a unique skill," I said, my voice tight. "I find it intriguing. Though I agree with Jared. It's more suited for maintaining building foundations than changing a war." I thought of the crumbling buildings of Bloodville and how such runes might have saved my parents. But of what use now. They have already gone.
"Damon," I said, pushing my plate away.
"Take me to the Hall of Knowledge. I'm done with the chatter."