Dorian Viremont woke with the taste of emerald fog still clinging to the back of his mind.
There was the familiar weight of a mattress beneath his back, the muted chill of dawn creeping through stone walls, and the faint rustle of curtains stirred by a lazy breeze.
He sat up slowly, fingers instinctively brushing against his middle finger, the ring was still there. Plain, dull and made of Lead.
"No dramatic exit?" Dorian muttered, rubbing his temples.
His head felt… heavy. Not painful, just dense like a mind that had sprinted too hard and was now paying the price.
When he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the floor felt solid enough, reassuringly ordinary, yet something was different.
He noticed it when he stood, the room felt full.
Not full in the sense that it was cluttered or crowded. Full like a space occupied by countless presences.
The wardrobe, the chair, the door and even the walls themselves carried a faint, indescribable weight to them, as if each object had a heart humming beneath its surface.
Dorian stilled and slowly, deliberately, he focused on the bedside table.
At first, nothing happened then subtle as breath fogging glass he felt it. The table's shape, four legs, a flat surface.
The purpose of holding. The expectation of stability.
Blueprints.
His breath hitched.
"Good morning " a familiar voice said lazily.
Dorian turned to see Liora leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, hair cascading freely down her back. She looked entirely too relaxed for someone who had apparently entered a noble estate without permission.
"How long have you been standing there?" Dorian asked flatly.
"Long enough to confirm you were alive" she replied. "And long enough to know you didn't scream or panic.
I've had past candidates usually wake up screaming and clutching their heads"
He snorted. "Disappointing, I'm sure."
"Refreshing," she corrected.
"Past candidates?" He asked
"Yes, previous students of alchemy which I guided,"
Dorian raised a brow, " There were others? Where are they now?"
Liora looked out the window, "Dead, none of them were able to bear the weight and complete the alchemical journey."
Dorian had a worried look on his face after hearing Liora's words
"It's not an easy task, every part of you will be tested to the limit. If you're having doubts now, then I'm certain you'll fail," Liora said, noticing his expression
I have failed once, and it felt like the world ended. Everyone who stood beside me and sang my praises suddenly forgot my name, the once who I was ahead left me behind and I was truly powerless and helpless. Failure is not something I can afford now, not with this chance.
Dorian clenched his fist and steeled his resolve, "I won't fail," He declared
Liora smirked, "That's the mindset and alchemist should have"
Dorian glanced back at the table, then the chair, then the door. "So this is what soul resonance feels like outside the soul space."
"Yes," Liora said, pushing herself upright. "Welcome to the inconvenient part."
He frowned. "It feels muted."
"Because it is," she said simply. "In the waking world, the soul is shielded by matter, history, interference, and will."
Dorian flexed his fingers. "And I'm guessing most people can't do this at all."
"Most people don't even know there's something to sense."
That earned a thin smile from him, "Wait. You said most."
Liora's lips twitched. "Like I said earlier there have been others."
"Were they successful?"
She met his gaze. "Some were close to being successful, others either died or lost themselves."
That answer bothered him more than a straight no would have.
"Training," he said abruptly. "There's not much time. So let's get on with it."
Liora studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well."
She reached into the air and withdrew a familiar object; a cracked coin.
"Same task?" Dorian asked.
"Yes," Liora replied. "Different battlefield."
He took the coin, its cool metal biting into his palm. Closing his eyes, he reached for that inner awareness again.
Nothing. His brow furrowed.
The room intruded, sounds, textures, the faint clatter of servants somewhere in the distance. The coin felt like a coin again. Just metal.
Dorian exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Blueprint, he reminded himself.
He pushed past sensation, past sight, past the instinct to see and listened instead.
There, it was faint and resistant.
The coin's soul was there, but unlike in Liora's soul space, it was wrapped tight, compressed beneath layers of reality that did not want to be disturbed.
Dorian reached for it.
Pain flared behind his eyes and he hissed, nearly dropping the coin.
Liora did not move.
"Again," she said calmly.
Dorian glared at the coin. " Why do I feel you enjoy seeing me in pain"
"No," she replied. "I'm observing."
Grinding his teeth, he tried againmore carefully this time. He did not force nor impose. Instead, he traced the coin's intent, following the lines of what it remembered itself to be.
The resistance softened. Sweat beaded on his brow. Slowly, painstakingly, the fracture drew together.
Then...Snap!
The coin split in two.
Dorian stared at the broken halves in his hand, chest heaving.
"…That went worse."
"Yes," Liora agreed. "Because you rushed."
He laughed bitterly. "You call that rushing?"
"You tried to command," she said. "Alchemy does not obey authority. It responds to understanding."
Dorian fell silent and after a moment, he straightened, shoulders squaring. "Again."
This time, he did not close his eyes, he stared at the coin halves, letting the world exist around him. The noise and the interference.
And beneath it all...The soul.
He listened and sent his intent to the the broken halves, they trembled.
The edges softened and with a soft metallic sigh, the coin pulled itself together.
It was whole again.
Dorian froze, then he laughed sharply, incredulous, exhilarated.
"I did it!"
Liora nodded once. "You are truly something else, you understood what to do way too quickly."
She stepped closer, eyes gleaming. "Most take weeks to even sense th soul through the interference."
Dorian rolled the coin across his knuckles, exhaustion settling into his bones. "I'm guessing I don't get credit for talent."
"No," she said. "You get credit for aptitude."
He smirked. "I'll take it."
Later, much later in the day Dorian found himself wandering the mansion's corridors, resonance humming quietly at the edges of his perception.
He sensed the age of the stones, the wear in the banister, the subtle difference between a door that had been repaired and one that had never broken.
Servants watched him with quiet confusion as he passed by without comment, eyes distant, mind elsewhere.
In the dining hall, he paused, the long table carried echoes of countless meals, arguments and silence. The chairs remembered weight and absence in equal measure.
Dorian exhaled.
"This is incredible, with this maybe I can stand a chance in the selection" he murmured.
"Yes," Liora agreed, appearing beside him once more. "Which brings us to the Selection."
Dorian leaned back against the long dining table, the faint hum of resonance slowly fading from his awareness. The excitement settled, replaced by a familiar wariness.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask," he said, glancing sideways at Liora.
She looked at him, attentive but guarded.
"Why do you even care about the Selection?" Dorian continued. "You're clearly not interested in academies, guilds, or the military.
A woman with your… capabilities doesn't strike me as someone who needs validation from a kingdom-wide test."
For the first time since he'd met her, Liora hesitated.
It was brief, barely a flicker but Dorian caught it.
"There's something I stand to gain from it," she said finally
Dorian straightened. "And that is?"
She met his gaze, emerald eyes steady. "My secret to keep."
He clicked his tongue, clearly dissatisfied. "Do you take enjoyment in mystery?"
"Perhaps," she replied calmly.
For a moment, Dorian considered pressing further. The old him would have sharp words, relentless logic, needling until cracks appeared.
But something told him this was not a wall he could force his way through, so he exhaled and let it go.
Liora noticed.
Her expression softened slightly. "If it eases your mind, it isn't dangerous. Nor is it some impossible task beyond your reach."
He raised a brow. "That's reassuringly vague."
"All you need to do," she continued, "is place first in the Selection."
Silence. Then Dorian laughed.
A sharp, incredulous sound burst from his chest as he bent forward slightly, hand braced on the table.
"First?" he repeated. "You're joking."
Liora did not smile.
He straightened, still grinning. "I can barely fix a coin without sweating like I ran a marathon. You think that's going to beat the prodigies, veteran trainees, and monstrous children raised by academies since they could walk?"
She stepped closer, voice calm, unshaken. "That is why I will make sure you are properly equipped."
His smile faded. "The Selection is in three days. One of those days is taken by the journey to the capital alone."
"Then we have two," she said simply.
Dorian stared at her.
She tilted her head. "You have proven to be a fast learner."
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he sighed, rubbing his face. "You're insane."
Liora smiled warmly "Perhaps," she agreed. "But insanity has always been closer to greatness than caution ever was."
Dorian let out a low laugh "…Fine," he said at last. "Let's see how far this madness takes me"
"But I can't use magic. My body's still the same. One flashy trick with coins won't save me."
"No, it won't." Liora said.
She stepped closer, voice lowering. " Two days, you'll be ready. The kingdom will see a different Dorian Viremont "
"So you're saying at least I won't embarrass myself. Got it" He deadpanned
"I'm saying," she corrected, "that if you play your cards right, you'll be able to change the perception the kingdom has of you."
"I've longed stopped caring about what people think of me, that part of me died along time ago," Dorian smiled, "But I would love to make a scene."