Chapter 12: Misunderstood?

Asher watched with quiet intensity as Malrik Wargrave, the First Sun, advanced with unhurried, deliberate strides. A perpetual smile played on his lips, but it did little to soften the weight of his presence. His eyes shimmered an icy blue, matching the hue of his hair, and his broad shoulders carried an air of effortless authority.

Unconsciously, Asher swallowed hard. Though newly awakened, he could already feel the overwhelming pressure that radiated from Malrik, a presence so immense it seemed to bend the very air around him. The smile, calm and confident, only served to make him appear all the more formidable.

Despite standing at an impressive 6’1", Asher felt insignificant in comparison. Before Malrik’s towering eight-foot frame, he seemed no greater than a child standing before a titan.

’I wonder what the First Sun of this family is truly like... Is he mad, or merely misunderstood?’ Asher thought, carefully maintaining a neutral expression. From what he could recall, the original Asher had never actually spoken with Malrik.

In fact, their only encounter had been a fleeting moment, when Malrik observed him in silence from a window during training, their eyes meeting just once.

Malrik came to a halt before Asher, then slowly lowered himself to Asher’s eye level, placing a firm yet gentle hand atop his head.

"Congratulations on your awakening, youngest," he said, a rare smile gracing his lips, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth.

Asher remained motionless, momentarily stunned by the unexpected gesture. He had anticipated intimidation, not praise, from the man known for his fearsome reputation. After a brief pause, he composed himself, forcing a polite smile.

"Thank you, First Sun," he replied carefully. He had never met Malrik before, and it felt wiser to use the man’s title rather than his name.

"There’s no need for such formality," Malrik said calmly, his smile graceful. "I’m your elder brother, your eldest sibling. Call me Malrik. We shouldn’t speak to each other like strangers."

Asher gave a small nod in response, though inwardly, disbelief churned within him. The First Sun, this man feared and revered in equal measure, was being... cordial. Almost normal. It didn’t sit right.

Part of him screamed that it was all an elaborate act.

’Perhaps the First Sun enjoys these kinds of games,’ Asher thought warily. ’Playing with people, twisting their thoughts.’ He had read about such characters too many times in the pages of novels, those who wore kindness like a mask. And in a world as brutal as this one, kindness was often the most dangerous lie of all.

"So, what brings you here, Malrik?" Asher asked, adapting with surprising ease to the First Sun’s request for familiarity.

"Oh, nothing much," Malrik replied casually, his tone light. "I simply came to witness your awakening."

As the two began to walk side by side, leaving the Awakening Hall behind, a quiet rhythm settled between them. Behind them, at a respectful distance of ten steps, followed Lyra and Malrik’s personal butler, silent shadows granting the brothers space for their conversation.

From the fragments of memory now accessible to him, Asher realized that Malrik had been present at all of his previous awakenings.

Over the past four days, Lyra had shared bits of insight, enough to paint a broader picture of the man walking beside him.

The First Sun was considered an enigma by nearly everyone. He smiled at all, treated everyone with the same disarming charm, making it nearly impossible to gauge his true thoughts, except for his enemies.

To most, that ever-present smile had long ceased to be comforting. Many believed it to be a mask, something carefully crafted to conceal a far more dangerous reality beneath.

"Then what if I hadn’t awakened?" Asher asked quietly as they passed a cluster of maids along the corridor.

The smile on Malrik’s face remained steady, unfazed. "I always knew you would awaken. After all, you are a Wargrave. But if you hadn’t..." He paused thoughtfully before continuing, "I planned to take you under my wing."

Asher’s steps faltered. Malrik’s openness made it easier to speak than he expected. "Why?" he asked, his voice genuine and unguarded.

"Why? Because why wouldn’t I care for my sibling?" Malrik replied simply, reaching out to pat Asher’s head once more.

Asher gently removed the hand and smoothed his hair back into place. They resumed walking, though a contemplative silence settled between them.

After a few minutes, they arrived at Asher’s door and paused, standing side by side before it.

"You’re not curious about the weapon and element I awakened?" Asher asked calmly. Though indifferent toward most Wargrave family members, he wasn’t so callous as to disregard genuine care when it was shown to him.

He was no maniac, after all.

Malrik’s expression remained composed. "I am curious," he admitted quietly, "but I’d rather not see it just yet. I want to witness it when you’ve mastered control, when you can wield it in battle. Perhaps then, we can spar."

Asher found himself at a loss for words. The idea of Malrik wanting to spar with someone freshly awakened bordered on madness. Yet, he did not protest.

This was typical of the Wargrave bloodline, passionate, battle-hardened, and relentless. He simply nodded in quiet acceptance.

’Perhaps this is who he truly is,’ Asher reflected,’ and not the monster so many believe him to be’ But, in truth, he understood very little.

Then Malrik raised his hand, and a rectangular wooden talisman materialized in his palm, seemingly summoned from the ring on his finger.

He extended it toward Asher and spoke with quiet calmness, "If you ever need my aid, infuse this with your Astra, and I will be there without delay."

Asher took the talisman, studying its intricate craftsmanship with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. After a moment, he looked up and asked, "You’re leaving?"

Malrik gave a slow nod. "We Wargraves don’t waste time idling. Train hard, or you’ll perish from some unknown threat, youngest." With that, he turned and walked away in calm, measured strides.

Asher watched Malrik and his butler retreat down the corridor, then allowed himself his first genuine smile. "Thank you, big brother," he said softly.

Malrik’s footsteps came to a sudden halt. His head turned slightly, a subtle smile touching his lips as he replied, "Anytime, youngest." The moment the words left his mouth, he vanished, no longer bothering to walk.

’Can he teleport? Or is his speed simply that extraordinary?’ Asher wondered, stepping into his room, his mind already racing with possibilities, superhuman strength, lightning-fast speed, and the countless powers that might lie ahead.