"...what?"
Lucian blinked.
For a moment, he thought he had misheard her. Vivienne, however, did not repeat herself. She only grabbed the artifact in her hand.
Lucian stared at the Artifact.
It was a small black mirror about the size of a palm. There were glowing red cracks on its surface. The handle looked like it was made of bone and thin lines of dried blood ran along its edges.
"What is that?"
Lucian asked curiously.
"The Woundglass."
Lucian blinked.
He did not like that, but his eyes were shimmering with excitement. He wanted to see how far his dear teacher would push him this time.
Vivienne noticed that shimmer and for a very short moment, it made her pause.
She did not know whether she should be proud or... a little disturbed.
She then shook her head and started walking towards him while explaining how the Artifact worked.
"The Woundglass searches for the deepest wounds in your mind and rebuilds them around you."
Lucian narrowed his eyes at that.
The words ’deepest wound’ instantly painted a memory in his mind, a memory he wanted to bury deep, deep inside so it would never resurface.
And for the first time ever since Lucian met Vivienne—
He took a step back.
Vivienne noticed that and paused. Lucian did not say anything, he only looked at her, then at the Artifact, then back at her and... his eyes turned moist on their own.
He clenched his fists at that, forcing the tears not to fall. That made his eyes redden, the memory resurfaced, his father’s head, his mother’s screams, everything started becoming clearer and clearer and his body started to tremble.
"No."
He shook his head.
He did not wish to do it.
Vivienne stared at him, then—
"We can stop if you want."
She spoke without any change in her tone. Lucian was about to agree, he did not wish to go through this but—
"But keep in mind, the enemy you desire to kill comes from the Court of Desire. Demons from the Court of Desire do not just influence attraction or charm, they have the power to influence dreams and create illusions.
You can step back right now, but your enemy won’t give you that choice.
That day, you will be facing an attack you are completely unprepared for.
It will be a glaring weakness."
Vivienne spoke, prepared to turn around, place the Woundglass back, and start their usual training.
But then—
"No."
Lucian spoke again.
The word ’weakness’ struck his mind.
He could not have that.
He could not have a weakness that his enemies, that bastard, could take advantage of.
No way.
Lucian’s eyes burned.
The memory was still very clear in his head, but this time, his will to win was stronger.
"I am ready."
He spoke, his eyes burning with even stronger intensity. Vivienne paused, she looked at him for a moment, then she smiled inwardly.
He really was the best she had ever had.
Of course, she did not show that smile outside.
"Good."
She simply nodded, then she raised the Woundglass and a red light flashed.
Lucian momentarily closed his eyes due to how strong the light was, however, when he opened them again, he was no longer inside the Training Hall.
For one second, there was nothing around him except darkness, as if his eyes were still closed.
But then it happened—
Everything brightened, forcing Lucian to close his eyes again. His other senses heightened and he...
He heard it.
The quiet sound of keyboard keys.
Then came the smell.
The smell of fresh, very familiar morning coffee.
Lucian opened his eyes.
He was standing in his living room, the one where it all began. The curtains were half-open. Morning light entered through the window and fell across the floor. The centre table had a few magazines on it, his father’s laptop bag was near the chair, his mother’s blue cup was on the counter and Lucian—
He couldn’t breathe.
He knew what was about to happen.
And it did—
"Lucian."
He heard a very familiar voice.
A voice he had been dying to hear for a long, long time but knew it was simply impossible. His eyes moved, and there he was.
Sitting at the dining table with his laptop open—
His father.
"You are leaving?"
He asked as he looked up.
Then came another voice.
"Take the banana I kept near the door. And do not come back saying you forgot to eat."
Lucian slowly turned around, it was his mother.
She was standing near the stove, tying her hair up with one hand while stirring something with the other.
Lucian only stared at her.
She looked... exactly the same.
The same soft eyes, the same tired but warm smile, the same way she moved around the kitchen like she had done it a thousand times.
Lucian tried to say something, but no words came out.
He felt a lump forming in his throat.
He knew this was fake.
He knew it well.
It was all an Illusion that the Artifact was showing him, his parents were dead, his house was empty, this morning had already passed long ago and would never return.
He knew it well.
But—
When his mother looked at him—
"Why are you standing there like that?"
She asked.
"Did you forget something?"
His father was confused as well.
And Lucian—
"I... I..."
No words came out of his mouth.
"Are you sick?"
His mother frowned as she walked towards him. She even extended her hand towards him, probably wanting to see if his forehead was warm.
And as Lucian saw her approaching him, his mind screamed at him to reject it.
Fake.
Fake.
Fake!
FAKE!
But...
The moment her hand touched his forehead, the moment he felt the familiar warmth, the moment he smelled that familiar scent...
It all began to change.
"You don’t have a fever."
Eleanor frowned in confusion.
"Heeh? Are you trying to avoid the gym?"
Jonathan grinned.
"What? Is it leg day?"