"Hmm, okay... What help do you need from ?" I looked at Aron, who was staring at with an expression that was hard to describe. What was it? Fear? Hope? Or was he pleading?
It was hard to imagine the proud prince asking for help, but at the sa ti, it wasn't. From the ti I've t him, I have co to know one thing:
Aron Velcrow is not as much of a bastard as the ga wanted to believe. Like, he is a bastard, but not to the level where I'd consider him disgusting.
'Doesn't that just an your sense of morality and justice is twisted?' Blaze added. He might be right... Who knows?
It's just that, as Aron said while sitting beside when I entered the room, his hatred toward isn't on par with what he feels toward Adam.
Aron looked around as if deciding what to do, or as if checking whether soone—or sothing—was spying on us.
I turned my head, but I didn't sense anyone. Then again, I've stopped relying on my senses lately; Vexa or Falco often manage to stand near without being noticed.
Aron flicked his fingers and straightened his posture. I could feel the air around us shift, the wind whistling past my ears, swirling around both of us as if encompassing us in a bubble. It was a spell—a barrier to prevent our voices and faces from being detected by anyone outside.
"Well, it looks like sothing important at least." I pushed my chair back slightly, not comfortable being so close to Aron in an enclosed space.
After a few frustrating seconds of silence, the prince finally spoke. "I need your help to master my Archon Form."
He raised his palm to stop from interrupting, as if sensing my upcoming question.
"I cannot ask anyone but you—not Falco, not Hera," he added. He didn't address Hera with any respect. Was it because he believed she wouldn't hear us?
Help him with his Archon Form? To be honest, I know nothing about that particular thing. All I know are a few useless monologues from the ga about how it works, and I'm sure they're bullshit. The ga's narrations don't explain the fundantals of the procedure at all.
I also don't know why Aron wasn't able to manifest his whole form when we saw him. I have no clue at all.
"And why not? It's not just a matter of trust, is it?" I asked. I didn't think it was that simple.
Aron paused, choosing his words carefully. "That's part of it, but not entirely the sole reason. I'm in the sa boat as Vexa when it cos to trusting my patron god. But for , it's more than that..."
More than that? I stayed quiet, letting him continue. He must've sensed I wasn't convinced by the vague explanation and elaborated.
"We chosen ones get visions or strange changes in our surroundings when we interact with gods."
Well, I knew that.
"They guide us toward the path..."
Damn. Who would've guessed?
"The last ti—after my failure to manifest my Archon Form—I had a vision. I asked her why I couldn't do it, but she simply dismissed , saying I needed to figure it out myself, or—"
He stopped. Behind the hard-to-read porcelain mask of his, sothing unexplainable flickered in his crimson eyes. Almost pleading, but more so... rage.
"Or?" I waited for him to finish, already guessing what he'd say. It was obvious. The only thing a god could threaten these chosen ones with.
"She'll take away the blessings completely."
Exactly. Taking away what they were given—stripping them of their power—making them feel powerless and weak.
But I wasn't sure about one thing.
"Is being stripped of Hera's blessings the only thing you're afraid of?" I questioned.
It couldn't be that simple. Aron might not be as much of a bastard as I knew from the storyline, but I knew he wasn't a hero. Nor was Devon. Devon seed like the type to be here solely to gain power. But Vexa and Aron? They seed like they were lured into this.
By sothing more...
Aron dejectedly looked down at his palms, as though the question I asked was sothing he didn't want to answer. No—it was certainly sothing he didn't want to answer at all.
"Okay, fine. I'll help." I shook my head. It wasn't like knowing the answer would help anyway. But maybe observing the Archon Form or how it worked might. And honestly, I didn't think there was anyone better than Aron to study it on.
***
Or so I thought...
I sighed, looking down at my feet where Aron sprawled, lying with his eyes wide open as he squird and scread at the top of his lungs.
The dents in his skin radiated an otherworldly glow as he dug his fingers deep into the marble floor beneath him.
After I agreed to help, this guy led back to one of his places deep in the city. It took about half an hour of walking—seems like Aron is strong enough to levitate himself but not strong enough to carry along with him.
So, we walked. I didn't want him to know I could fly—better to keep a few cards up my sleeve. Mostly, though, it was just weird to explain... not that I had to, but still.
When we arrived, the place was a very unassuming two-story building in the depths of Solstice. Aron took to a room on the second floor. The walls seed to be made of a tough material—none of the attacks or, more specifically, the shockwaves of energy bursting from Aron's body left a single scratch. Maybe so runes were inscribed to absorb spells thrown at them.
Anyway, back to the topic. Aron was now pathetically crawling on the floor like a mana beast that had its heart ripped out of its body.
This is the problem, and he expects to help him.
I sighed. The only problem is, I have no idea how. How am I supposed to help with this?
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