The Awakening of Eden

Raella Saint

The room was cold and clinical, its walls lined with polished steel panels that seemed to drink in the dim overhead light. The air was thick with mana, the kind that only came from years of accumulation—old energy left behind by generations of Awakened who had stood where the boy now sat. To Raella Saint, the weight of that lingering power was as familiar as the sword at her hip. She had stood in rooms like these countless times, had judged the worth of countless candidates. Many had crumbled under the pressure she exuded.

She studied the boy in front of her with an impassive gaze, her fiery mana coiling faintly around her like a resting predator. His name was Eden. Thin, almost fragile in appearance, yet he carried himself with a poise that did not match his body. He sat with an unnatural stillness, his hands folded neatly on the table before him, his head slightly tilted. His eyes, though sightless, held a serenity that set him apart from the desperate or arrogant applicants she had tested before.

There was no brashness to him, no fidgeting or anxious glances. Even those who masked their fear often betrayed themselves in subtle ways—a twitch of the fingers, a tightening of the jaw. But Eden sat there as if the weight of their presence did not faze him. As if he had already taken their measure and found no reason to be shaken.

Raella was not easily impressed, but something about the boy made her take a second look. Control. That was what it was. Not arrogance, not naivety—pure, measured control.

Beside her, Rorik leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his bulk. He was a fortress of a man, his sheer presence enough to unnerve most. Arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable, but Raella knew him well enough to recognize when he was interested.

She exhaled slowly, the faintest ember of her mana sparking in response to her breath before vanishing. "Eden," she finally said, her voice even, assessing. "You understand why you're here."

The boy tilted his head slightly, as if considering his words before speaking. "To be evaluated."

A simple answer. Noncommittal and controlled.

Raella's lips pressed together slightly. Yes, this one would be interesting.

Eden

Though he could not see the room, he felt it. Every breath he took carried the weight of its history—the swirling remnants of mana left behind by generations of Awakened, lingering like the echo of past battles. Some were faint, nearly indistinguishable from the natural ambient energy, while others clung to the air, stubborn and unmoving, as if their owners had left an imprint on the very walls.

But none were as immediate, as suffocating, as the two presences before him.

Raella Saint's mana was overwhelming. It wrapped around her like a living flame, intense yet perfectly contained, each ember restrained within an invisible sheath of discipline. The air near her was subtly warmer, enough that Eden felt his palms dampen with sweat. It wasn't just fire—it was refinement, precision honed over years of mastery. Her mana did not lash out uncontrollably like an inferno but instead radiated an unyielding heat, the quiet burn of a blade just before it strikes. A swordswoman, no doubt. One who had long since become accustomed to power.

The man beside her, Rorik, was different. If Raella was a blade held in check, then Rorik was a mountain unmoved. His mana was thick, oppressive, settling over the room like the weight of stone. It didn't surge outward but instead rested, solid and unshaken, exuding the quiet dominance of sheer physical force. Eden could almost hear the crackle of shifting earth beneath the surface of his control, as though his very presence could split the ground if he so desired. Even without sight, he felt the way Rorik loomed, his stature enormous, his breathing steady and measured. He was a warrior through and through.

Two powerful Awakened. And both were focused entirely on him.

A flicker of unease stirred in Eden's chest.

Even with his limited perception, he felt their presence clearly, enough to trace an outline of their bodies just from the mana. Without a doubt a reminder of the chasm that lay between them in both experience and power. If either of them wanted to, they could likely snuff him out before he had a chance to react. It was not fear exactly, but an instinctual awareness of his own vulnerability—a realization that, in this moment, he was entirely at their mercy.

Yet, just as quickly as that feeling crept in, it faded.

That eerie sense of calm—the same one that had lingered since he accepted his legacy—washed over him once more. Their strength was undeniable, their presence overwhelming, yet for some reason, it didn't feel like something to fear. It should have. He knew that. But instead, there was a strange sense of familiarity, as though standing before power like this was something he had already grown used to. The thought unsettled him. He had never faced Awakened of this caliber before, had never been in the presence of such suffocating mana. And yet, his body did not tense, his breathing did not falter. It was almost as if some distant part of him had already stood before giants—and had learned long ago that they were not something to fear.

His fingers, which had curled slightly under the weight of their presence, loosened. His breathing remained steady.

He wasn't afraid.

He straightened his posture slightly, exhaling slowly. On the outside, he remained composed, unreadable. On the inside, his thoughts turned. This was a test, and he would not let them see even a flicker of weakness. Whatever they sought to understand about him, he would decide what they were allowed to see.

And so, he waited.

Rorik

A blind Awakened. That alone would've been enough for most to dismiss the boy outright. But he wasn't just blind—he was unshaken. That made him dangerous.

Rorik studied him, fingers tapping idly against the metal table. The boy's presence was an enigma. No fidgeting, no hesitation, just calm, measured control. That kind of composure wasn't normal, not for someone his age, let alone someone who had just lost his sight.

"The greater the power, the greater the flaw," Rorik murmured, his deep voice breaking the silence. "Tell me, Eden, what kind of ability would be worth the price of your sight?"

Eden didn't flinch. His posture remained unchanged, his expression unreadable. "That depends," he said. "Would you believe me if I said I can still see?"

Rorik's fingers stilled against the table. A bold claim. A deliberate one. He felt Raella's gaze flick toward him, both of them immediately aware—this was a lie. Not because the boy was a bad liar, but because they had seen countless Awakened try to conceal their weaknesses before. There were tells, subtle shifts in breathing, the faintest changes in mana flow. Eden had none of those. If anything, he was too smooth. Too prepared. That made the deception all the more intriguing.

Rorik raised an eyebrow, feigning mild curiosity. "Elaborate."

Eden only smiled. "I'd rather not."

Raella exchanged a glance with Rorik. That response alone spoke volumes—he wasn't just hiding something, he was steering the conversation. He knew exactly what he was doing. Most would fumble under the scrutiny of two high-ranked Awakened. But Eden? He was unfazed. Either he was incredibly naïve, or he was something far more dangerous.

Raella

Raella studied Eden in silence for a moment longer before speaking. "You realize this isn't just about testing your capabilities, don't you?"

Eden's response was immediate. "You're evaluating whether I belong here."

A small, knowing smile crossed Raella's lips. "That's part of it. But more importantly, we're deciding whether you're a liability."

Eden tilted his head slightly. "A liability to whom?"

"To everyone."

For the first time, a flicker of something crossed his face. Amusement? Curiosity? It was gone in an instant, replaced once more by that unshakable calm.

Raella's gaze sharpened. He was too composed. Even prodigies, the best of the best, showed some form of nervousness in situations like this. Yet Eden sat there as if he were the one assessing them. She could feel Rorik's mana shift slightly beside her—he had noticed it too.

She exhaled slowly, leaning back. "A blind boy who carries himself like a veteran. That's not normal."

Eden offered the faintest of shrugs. "Neither is a blind boy becoming an Awakened."

Rorik chuckled, shaking his head. "I like him."

Raella rolled her eyes but kept her gaze fixed on Eden. He was holding back, that much was clear. But it wasn't out of defiance or arrogance—it was measured. Calculated. She could respect that. After all, careful people survived.

Eden

A moment of silence stretched between them.

Eden remained still, but inside, his thoughts churned. They had the power to reject him here and now. If they did, what would he do? Where would he go? This academy was his best path to strength—to understanding the power that had awakened within him. If they deemed him unfit, then what? Would he be cast aside? Left to struggle in the dark, blind and alone?

The idea unsettled him. He had no doubt he would find another way forward, but it would be slower, much more uncertain. And time—time was something he had an inexplicable feeling he could not waste.

He kept his breathing steady, not allowing even a flicker of his unease to show.

Raella tapped a finger against the table, exchanging a look with Rorik. Neither spoke at first, but their silence carried weight. Eden could feel the unspoken debate hanging in the air.

"We can't ignore the risks," Raella finally said, her tone neutral, but thoughtful.

Rorik exhaled, arms crossed. "The boy's got talent, that much is clear. But talent alone isn't enough. He's hiding something."

"So are most of the ones who come through here," Raella countered.

"Not like this." Rorik's gaze was heavy, pressing down on Eden like a mountain. "And not with stakes this high."

Eden kept his face neutral, but the conversation sent a sharp jolt of unease through him. The longer they deliberated, the more a single thought repeated in his mind: They might say no.

The thought itself was absurd, yet it clawed at him with growing intensity. He had already begun to picture his path forward, the battles he would fight, the strength he would gain. But if they denied him here, that vision would fracture before it even began.

He clenched his hands beneath the table, forcing himself to stay composed. It had only been a minute, but to him, it felt like ten.

Finally, Raella let out a breath and turned back to him. "Eden, tell me one thing."

He straightened slightly. "Yes?"

"If we let you in, if we give you the opportunity you're seeking, will you waste it?"

Eden didn't hesitate. "No."

Her gaze bore into him, searching for cracks. Looking for doubt. When she found none, she leaned back. "Good." A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "You pass the interview."

Eden exhaled softly, a subtle nod his only acknowledgment.

As expected.

But deep inside, beneath the layers of composure, relief curled through him like a slow-burning ember.

Just as he stood to leave, another voice entered the room.

Another proctor no doubt, having been just informed of the decision to pass Eden.

"You won't be participating in the intro exams with the others."

Eden froze. His expression, for the first time, flickered with surprise.

"…What?"

Raella and Rorik didn't answer. They only watched as realization dawned on his face.