harleyscars Chapter 44: Ch44
Chapter 44: Ch44
The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dew and pine. Xavier stirred awake, his body surprisingly light after the chaos of the previous night. He stretched, feeling the stiffness in his muscles fade, and pushed himself out of the bedroll. The tent flap opened with a soft rustle, and he stepped into the clearing.
The camp was quiet, save for the crackle of a dying fire. Seliora was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Aria sat near the embers, her silver aura faint but steady, her eyes scanning the treeline with calm vigilance.
A few feet away, Lyra lay unconscious, tied with rough rope, her face swollen from a blow. Her hair was matted, her lips split, and her body trembled faintly in sleep.
Xavier’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing. He walked toward Aria, who turned her gaze to him and offered a faint smile.
"You’re awake, Master," she said softly. "Are you okay?"
Xavier nodded, rolling his shoulders. "I’m fine. Better than I expected, actually." His eyes flicked around the camp. "Where’s Seliora?"
Aria’s gaze shifted toward the forest. "She went to hunt. Said we’ll need food if we’re going to move again."
Xavier gave a curt nod, his jaw tight. He didn’t speak at first, but his silence carried weight. His eyes were distant, fixed on the horizon, yet his mind was elsewhere.
Darakos.
The name echoed in his thoughts like a curse. He remembered the fight—the invisible bullets tearing through him, the way his daggers had been useless against that unseen barrage. He remembered the mocking grin, the suffocating aura, the way Darakos had toyed with him as if he were nothing.
Xavier clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. ’ I was overconfident. I thought the system made me untouchable. I thought every battle would bend to me. But Darakos... he broke me. He showed me how fragile I really am.’
The memory burned. His pride had been shattered, his body broken, his spirit tested. He had relied too much on the system, too much on the idea that it would carry him through every fight. But Darakos had proven otherwise.
Xavier’s jaw tightened. ’If I don’t train... if I don’t sharpen myself beyond the system... I’ll die. And worse, Aria will die with me.
Aria watched him quietly, her silver eyes sharp, as if she could see the storm raging inside him. She didn’t speak, but her silence was a sign of understanding.
Lyra groaned faintly in her sleep, her swollen eye twitching. Xavier glanced at her again, his voice low, steady, unyielding. "I do really have bad luck with people. Now I’m stuck with a deranged fanatic who is after my body. Now look at her. Broken. Useless."
The fire crackled, the forest whispered, and the camp held its breath.
Xavier finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with steel. "I need to train. I can’t rely on the system anymore. Darakos showed me that. If I don’t sharpen myself, if I don’t awaken what’s inside me... next time, I won’t walk away."
Aria was silent before she spoke. "Master, can you please forgive me?"
"About what?" Xavier asked, confused.
"You were attacked because of me," Aria replied. "I can’t remember anything but I can tell I’m somehow important. I also know that I’m not only human and demaranian together but I can sense another blood inside me."
"Another blood?"
Aria nodded. "I’m certain, master. I just don’t know what it is."
Xavier stared at her. Theron had done something really unconventional. No wonder he kept it a secret from Bignath. Only the higher-ups knew about it, and he could also bet that Theron was paying the price for his failure of containing Aria. He could even be dead now.
He placed a hand down on Aria and smiled. "You don’t need forgiveness because you did nothing wrong. I’m also being targeted because I’m black so you don’t need to worry. Okay?"
Aria gazed at him before she nodded gently.
Xavier smiled at her before he turned back to where Lyra was sitting, his face set in stone.
He walked over to where Lyra was tied, her swollen eye glaring at him with a mix of pain and defiance. She stirred as he approached, her lips curling into a bitter smile despite the ropes that bound her.
"You’re here?" She spoke. "Ready to give me what belongs to me?"
"My body?" Xavier scoffed dismissively. "No thanks? You want me to die so you can fulfill your weird desire. That’snit happening, ever."
"You think being black was meant for you?" she rasped, her voice hoarse but sharp. "No... it was meant for me. I was supposed to carry that strength, that curse, that power. You don’t deserve it. You stumble, you bleed, you fail. It should have been mine."
Xavier’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. He crouched slightly, his shadow falling over her. "You fucking betrayed us, Lyra. You thought your fucking greed and obsession would make you strong. Look at you now—broken, tied, useless. You’ll never understand what it means to carry this."
Lyra laughed, a broken sound, her voice trembling with madness. "You don’t understand either. You think it’s a burden, but it’s glory. I dreamed of it, Xavier. I wanted it more than anything. To wear your skin, to wield your strength, to bend the world beneath me. You’re wasting it. You’re weak. It should have been mine."
Xavier leaned closer, his voice sharp, cutting through her rambling. "You’ll never have it. Power isn’t something you steal. It isn’t something you wear like a fucking cloak. It’s something you earn, Lyra. And you? You’ll never earn it."
Lyra’s swollen eye glistened, her lips trembling. "We’ll see," she whispered, her voice broken but defiant. "One day... it’ll be mine."
Xavier straightened, his gaze cold, his voice steady. "Keep dreaming. That’s all you’ll ever have."
He turned away, leaving her bound and rambling, her obsession echoing faintly in the silence of the camp.
He walked into the trees, his mind already made up. He was going to train and get stronger so he could face Darakos again. If he couldn’t take out Darakos, then how was he going to fight his classmates? He had to get stronger. There was no choice.
No choice at all.