Evoker

Leon’s heart was still pounding from his conversation with Caelus, the Chosen’s parting words echoing in his head as he made his way back through the halls of Highfield Manor. The power to control an entire concept... it was almost too much to wrap his head around. But as much as the idea thrilled him, the uncertainty of his own abilities still weighed heavily on his mind. What if he wasn’t strong enough to figure it out?

He was lost in thought as he approached a familiar hallway leading to one of the smaller sitting rooms. Just as he reached for the door handle, he heard voices from inside—his mother’s voice, low and filled with tension. Leon froze, his hand hovering above the door. He hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but something in his mother’s tone made him pause.

“I’m sorry for my reaction earlier,” Mira was saying, her words quiet but strained. “It wasn’t the sight of the Chosen—well, not exactly. It just... brought back memories. Of what happened to Leon’s father.”

Leon’s heart skipped a beat. He moved closer to the door, his breath catching in his throat.

Inside, Roderic’s voice responded, thoughtful and measured. “I recall hearing of his passing. From what I understand, he died protecting others during a demonic rift incident.”

Mira’s voice wavered slightly. “Yes. Doran... he stayed behind to help evacuate some of the other villagers. The Evoker assigned to our region came as quickly as they could, but the rift opened so suddenly...” She trailed off, her words thick with emotion.

Leon pressed his ear to the door, his chest tightening. He’d always known his father had died trying to help others, but his mother rarely spoke of it. Hearing it now, in this quiet, painful way, made the loss feel fresh again.

Roderic’s voice was gentle but firm. “Your husband’s actions were nothing short of heroic. He saved many lives that day.”

Mira gave a soft, shaky breath. “He did what he thought was right. But... I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that, had the Evoker arrived just a few moments earlier, maybe...”

She didn’t finish the sentence, and Leon felt his stomach twist. He had never known how much this weighed on her, how much she had held back over the years.

Roderic responded quietly, “It’s only natural to feel that way, Mira. But from what I’ve read, the Evoker did everything within their power. Rift openings are unpredictable. No one could have foreseen it.”

Mira sighed, her voice softer now. “I know. It’s just hard not to wonder, sometimes.”

Leon felt a lump forming in his throat. His father’s death had always been this quiet, heavy presence in his life, something he hadn’t fully understood. Now, hearing the details for the first time, it hit him with a weight he hadn’t expected.

Suddenly, there was a faint creak as the door opened slightly. Leon’s heart leapt into his throat as Roderic’s voice cut through the silence. “Leon.”

Mira turned sharply, her expression shifting from surprise to something more concerned. “How long have you been standing there?”

Leon swallowed hard, stepping into the room with a guilty look. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just... overheard.”

Mira’s eyes softened, and she stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Leon, I wish you’d told me you were there.”

Roderic gave a small nod. “It’s important to understand the full context of what you hear. Misunderstandings can cause unnecessary pain.”

Mira nodded, her gaze still on Leon. “He’s right. You should have asked me if you wanted to know. There’s no shame in it.”

Leon frowned, guilt gnawing at him. “I wasn’t trying to spy. I just didn’t want to interrupt. And I didn’t know you still felt that way about Evokers.”

Mira’s face softened, her hand gently stroking his hair. “It’s not Evokers, Leon. It’s the memories. I don’t blame anyone for what happened to your father. The Evoker came as fast as they could, and they saved many others.”

Leon swallowed hard, his voice tight. “But you never talk about it... about Dad.”

Mira’s eyes glistened, but she smiled gently. “I didn’t want to burden you with that when you were so young. Losing Doran... it’s something I’ll never fully get over. But I wanted you to grow up without that weight on your shoulders.”

She paused, her voice growing quieter. “Your father was brave, Leon. He stayed behind to make sure others got to safety, even though he knew the risk. When the rift opened, it caught everyone off guard, but he acted without hesitation. The Evoker did everything they could, but... it was too late.”

Leon’s throat tightened, and he blinked back the sudden sting of tears. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know it happened like that.”

Mira’s voice was steady, but the pain in her eyes was undeniable. “Your father was a good man. And I see so much of him in you.”

Leon didn’t know what to say, his heart heavy with the knowledge of what his father had done. The weight of his legacy settled over him like a cloak, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had to live up to it.

“I want to be like him,” Leon whispered, his voice shaking slightly. “I want to make him proud.”

Mira’s smile softened, and she squeezed his shoulder. “He’d already be proud of you, Leon. I know it.”

Leon nodded, a newfound sense of determination settling in his chest. His father had been a hero—someone who had given everything to protect others. Now, Leon knew what he wanted: to live up to that same courage.

As Roderic and Mira exchanged quiet words nearby, Leon glanced back toward the door. He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to intrude further, before giving his mother a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Mira smiled gently in return, watching as Leon turned and quietly exited the room, the door clicking shut behind him. He lingered for a moment outside, leaning against the wall, his mind racing with thoughts of his father, of Evokers, and the long path that lay ahead of him.

As the door clicked shut behind Leon, the weight of silence settled heavily in the room. Mira stood still for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts and memories that swirled like autumn leaves caught in a storm. The moment she had witnessed Leon speak to Caelus, the Chosen, had cut deeper than she anticipated.

Suddenly, the memories of her husband’s death came crashing down, unbidden. She felt the phantom grasp of his hand, the warmth of his presence now replaced by a hollow ache. Her breath hitched, and she fought to keep the tears at bay, but the façade shattered, and they began to fall, unrestrained.

“Mira?” Roderic’s voice broke through the haze, filled with genuine concern. He stepped closer, unsure how to bridge the chasm of grief that seemed to swallow her whole.

She turned slightly, her features strained as she wiped at her cheeks, but it did little to stem the tide of sorrow. “I’m... I’m sorry, my Lord,” she choked out, her voice cracking.

“There’s no need to apologise,” Roderic said softly, his rough hands instinctively reaching out as if he could gather her pain in them. “You don’t have to bear this alone.”

Mira shook her head, feeling vulnerable and exposed. “He’ll be leaving for the academy in five years, Roderic. I can’t protect him once he’s gone. I won’t be able to help him through any of this,” she said, her voice trembling. The fear of losing Leon to this dangerous world echoed in her words, a fear she couldn’t shake.

Roderic, a man forged through toil and battle, found himself at a loss. He had spent his life hardened by hardship and strife, and yet here, facing Mira’s vulnerability, he felt his heart twist painfully. “You’re doing everything you can for him now. He’s learning and growing because you’re here. That won’t change just because he’s away.” His tone was earnest, though he stumbled over the words, unsure if they were enough to soothe her pain.

Mira looked up at him, her eyes searching his, and for the first time, she saw something more than concern reflected there. There was a warmth that brought a flicker of comfort, a sense of safety she hadn’t expected. But the thought was fleeting as the shadows of her past threatened to drag her back down.

“I just worry for him,” she confessed, her voice shaking but resolute. “The world isn’t kind, and Leon... he’s just a boy. What if he gets hurt?”

Roderic took a tentative step closer, his voice low and steady. “Then we will be here for him. You will be here for him. Just as you always have been. You’re not alone in this.”

There was a moment of silence between them, and in that stillness, Roderic felt a shift within himself—a burgeoning desire to protect her, to offer her solace. He reached out, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “You’ve already given him so much. Trust in what you’ve instilled in him.”

Mira met his gaze, and for a fleeting instant, the weight of her grief was counterbalanced by the warmth of his presence. Yet, doubt still lingered in her eyes. “But what if it’s not enough?”

Roderic’s thumb brushed against her shoulder, a tender gesture that surprised them both. “It will be enough. Because you are enough.”

His voice carried a gravity that seemed to pull her out of the darkness momentarily. In the face of her pain, a connection began to weave itself between them—one built on shared understanding and unspoken emotions.

She took a shaky breath, the warmth of his hand grounding her amidst the tempest of memories and fears. “Thank you, Roderic,” she whispered, her voice steadier now, though the shadows still loomed.

He nodded, the sincerity in his gaze unwavering. “I’m here, Mira. Whenever you need me.”

Leon made his way back to his room, his thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a gust of wind. His mind kept drifting to his father—Doran, the man he barely remembered. His mother hadn’t spoken much about his father before today, and hearing the full story now made it all feel so much more... real.

Doran had been brave—so brave that he had sacrificed himself for others without hesitation. Leon didn’t know if he could ever be like that. He wasn’t sure if he had that kind of courage in him. But maybe... maybe it was time to find out.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands. What if his power had something to do with memories? That would explain the flashes he’d experienced—the moments when knowledge or understanding suddenly flooded his mind. What if he could push that ability further? What if he could use it to unlock memories he couldn’t consciously recall?

His father. He could barely remember him... just faint images, fragments of a time long ago when he was too young to understand. What if he could see those memories again? What if he could see his father?

Leon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing inward. The world around him—the weight of the day, the tension of everything he’d learned—faded into the background. All that was left was the quiet pulse of his own heartbeat and the swirling uncertainty of the power inside him.

He thought back to everything that had happened since his awakening. The strange visions, the sudden clarity in moments when he needed it most. He remembered the test with Madam Aldwin, how the answers had come to him as if pulled from some hidden well of knowledge deep inside his mind. He remembered the lives he had glimpsed—people he had never known, their memories flooding him like waves.

But this... this was different. This was about his memories. His past.

Leon let himself sink deeper into his mind, pushing past the surface thoughts, past the noise of the present. He focused on the quiet space inside himself, the part that felt connected to something deeper—something untouched, waiting to be understood.

He had to be brave. Just like his father. He couldn’t run from this any longer.

His breathing slowed, each inhale and exhale a steady rhythm that pulled him further into his own mind. The world outside disappeared completely now, replaced by the quiet pulse of energy that thrummed beneath his skin. He focused on it—on the power that he knew was there, waiting for him to take control.

He didn’t fight it. Instead, he let himself fall into it, letting go of the fear, the uncertainty, and the doubt. His mind sharpened, his focus becoming absolute. The memory was there. He could feel it, like a door just waiting to be opened.

With a surge of willpower, Leon pushed through.

The world around him shifted. The bed beneath him, the room, the manor—it all faded away, replaced by a new scene. It was like stepping into a dream, but sharper, clearer. He was no longer himself, no longer the eleven-year-old boy sitting on a bed. He was somewhere else, someone else.

He was cradled in warm arms, the softness of his mother’s touch surrounding him. He was... smaller. His vision was blurred, the edges of the world fuzzy and indistinct, as though seen through the eyes of a child too young to understand. But he could feel the urgency in the way his mother held him, the quickness of her breath as she ran.

The tear had already opened. A jagged, violently purple-black rift ripped through the air behind them, the edges of it sparking with a terrible, unnatural energy. It pulsed and writhed as if alive, its very presence wrong, an affront to everything around it. He didn’t need to understand the intricacies of magic to know—this was a demonic rift. And whatever was coming through... it had to be a demon.

Leon felt a surge of panic—no, not his own panic. It was the panic of the baby, the small, helpless version of himself cradled in his mother’s arms. But the feeling was real, visceral, as if he were truly there again.

His mother’s arms tightened around him as she ran, her breath coming in short gasps. She was moving fast, trying to get away from the tear, but it loomed larger and larger, consuming the space behind them.

And then... the figure.

A massive, hazy shape began to emerge from the tear, its outline blurry and distorted through Leon’s young, unfocused eyes. But even in its indistinct form, the figure radiated power—a force that made the air tremble. It stepped through the rift with a slow, deliberate motion, its presence filling the space like a shadow creeping over the land.

Leon’s heart raced in his chest, fear flooding his senses. He tried to focus, to see the figure more clearly, but his young eyes couldn’t make sense of it. All he knew was that it was coming into the world, and his father had been the first to face it—not because the rift had targeted him, but because he was there, standing between it and the people he was protecting.

The memory began to blur, the edges of it fraying as Leon felt the pull of the present tugging at him. He tried to hold on, tried to focus, but the pressure inside his head built and built until it was too much to bear. The memory wavered, slipping through his fingers like water.

And then, with a violent jolt, Leon was pulled back into his body.

His eyes snapped open, and he gasped, his chest heaving as if he had just been dragged out of deep water. His skin was drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. His heart pounded wildly, his pulse loud in his ears.

But he was still conscious this time.

Leon sat there, breathing heavily, his mind spinning. The vision was fading, but the image of the rift—the figure stepping through it—was burned into his memory. He could still feel the weight of his mother’s arms around him, the raw fear of that moment.

Whatever that was... it wasn’t just a memory. It was something more.

Leon wiped the sweat from his brow, his hands trembling slightly. He had done it. He had pushed into the past, into his own memories. But the vision had raised more questions than it had answered. He didn’t know what kind of demon it had been or why it had come through. All he knew was that his father had been the first to confront it—because that was the kind of man he was.

He didn’t have the answers. Not yet. But for the first time since his awakening, Leon felt a sense of control over himself. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy. But it was there.