Chương 11: Soul Sight

The little deity, the Thirteenth Goddess herself, had just declared that Anadis could wield her Blessing. Not just wield it; it was his. He could barely sit still. He was already itching to call on it, to feel it crackle through him. He also needed and wanted to know just how they were supposed to separate their souls, but she had made him wait, saying he had to call the Blessing first. So that was the objective now. He wanted to hear the Divine Voice say it—his name next to his Blessing—to make it feel real.

Too bad I can't hear the Divine Voice without a Blessen insignia.

"You're really bad at this," the glowing bug said as Anadis walked toward the veranda.

"Bad at what? I'm just walking."

"Indeed, you are," the bug reiterated, now hovering close to him.

"You're really bad at it." Anadis huffed in annoyance.

"Look at your posture. Your head is leaning forward." She darted in front of him and pushed his forehead back.

"Your feet are pointing sideways instead of forward." She kicked lightly at his feet in a failed attempt to straighten them.

"And your back is all hunched. That's the posture of someone who's asking to get knocked down." Father had tried to fix his bad posture for years, but Anadis had always disregarded the advice, dismissing it as nothing more than the man's obsession with how a Blessen ought to appear. Maybe my posture really is bad. I mean, Grandma has told me I look as hunched as a beggar waiting for coins when I'm reading.

He made an effort to straighten up the way the annoying mosquito just pointed out, before a booming voice sounded outside on the veranda.

"Son!" Father swaggered in from the veranda and grabbed him by the arm.

"Just the youth I was looking for—" He paused and stared into his eyes.

"Your mother was right. Your eyes did change. Ah, marvelous!" He clapped his hands.

"That means you're ready. Come."

"W-where are you taking me?" Anadis pulled against the iron grip, but it was futile.

"My training session, obviously," Father said without looking back.

"I'll teach all of you how to call on your Blessings, so get a move on. I even convinced Aelia to join."

"What…?" That was exactly his plan, but he'd wanted to do it alone. He glanced at the pestering mosquito. She simply shrugged.

"Let's see if this one is smart enough to teach you the basics," she said. He scowled at her. Of course his father was smart enough to teach him anything, especially the basics. There wasn't a Blessen in all of Aura Cay half as capable as him. Anadis knew that was his own bias, of course. Someone of a higher ascension would surely be more capable. As he stepped outside into the warm morning air, he immediately felt the difference.

The coolness of the interior gave way to the full, oppressive weight of Solwane's heat. Even though the house sat nestled between two rugged mountain ridges, far from the coastal town of Aura Cay, the wind still carried the faint, briny taste of sea salt. The yard was enormous, more of a sprawling meadow of colorful wildflowers than a proper yard. In truth, the entire Kalonis property was a grand farm villa. Anadis positioned himself between his sister and brother.

Aelia stood to his left, arms crossed, looking anything but excited about the prospect of training. Albus stood to his right, watching Anadis with a focused gaze. From where he stood, he could see the Worldstitch Mountains looming in the distance, like Colossus-rank Grulls crouching on the horizon. People said they wrapped around the planet's entire equator. He'd grown up seeing them every day, and familiarity had nearly stolen the wonder from them. Nearly.

"Alright!" Father said, clapping his hands once and rubbing them with a wide, elated smile. He gazed at Anadis, Aelia, and Albus with pride shining in his eyes. Then, with a single nod, he said, "I can't believe that not one, not two, but three of my children are Blessens now. I couldn't feel prouder even if I tried." Anadis watched as the flickering gnat of a goddess darted over to his father, hovering in front of his eyes and studying him closely. I guess it's true. Only I can see her.

"Did you say he was a Blessen?" she asked, her voice loud enough to bridge the distance. Obviously, he didn't answer out loud. That would be too weird. He simply gave her a small nod. She shook her head, white hair billowing in the summer wind.

"We can talk telepathically."

"Wow, what the heck." He shifted uncomfortably at the surprise.

"Since our souls are bound, we're also connected on a mental level." Her voice resounded directly in his ear, as though someone were whispering right beside him. The hair on his neck rose.

"This feels like you're invading my privacy. I don't like it…" A chilling thought suddenly struck him.

"Wait—can you read my thoughts? What if I start thinking about… personal stuff? I don't want you listening to that."

"Relax, mortal. I can't read your thoughts. I can only speak to you mentally and receive what you choose to tell me. So your dirty teenage thoughts are perfectly safe inside that dirty head of yours."

"Hey! I never said they were dirty thoughts." A skeptical frown tugged at her lips. Then she spun around and suddenly spiraled downward, phasing straight into Father's chest just as she had done with him earlier that day.

"Wait!" Anadis shouted, reaching uselessly into the air.

"What's the matter?" Father asked, then he frowned and grabbed at his chest as if in pain. Anadis's heart hammered with panic. What was she trying to do? Hurt him the same way she had him?

"Must be getting old," Father said, coughing once into his fist. The boundary-blind wretch slipped out of Father's chest. Anadis sighed in relief, then shot her a leering glare.

"What's wrong with you? Were you trying to hurt my dad?"

"Relax, little imp. I was only verifying something," she said into his mind, as she eased and settled in his head, wings brushing his hair. He shook his head sharply, trying to dislodge her. He was about to yell at her for the audacity when Father's loud voice pulled his attention.

"Listen up, Blessens!" Father demanded.

"Today I'll teach you how to call upon your Blessing for the first time." The man walked with a legionary's stride—back straight, eyes forward, each step deliberate. That was exactly what he was after all, a member of the Aura Cay Blessen Division, a group of elite Blessen legionnaires chosen to protect the city from any Grull or hostile force that would dare attack.

"But before we begin, you must know," Father said, his tone shifting from instructional to something more solemn.

"A Blessing isn't only about the power you wield. It changes your body as well." He looked at each of them in turn.

"Your strength, speed, and senses will all improve. Divine essence is reshaping you from the inside out. Your reflexes will sharpen. You'll recover faster from exhaustion and injury. Your eyes will notice details they once missed." He paused.

"But not immediately. It takes time."

"How long?" Anadis asked.

"Depends on the person. Depends on the core." Father crossed his arms.

"Your body has to adapt and grow to hold what's living inside it now. Think of it like a waterskin slowly being stretched to hold more water than it was built for. Rush the process, and you break. Give it time, and you become something greater than you ever imagined." For a brief moment, his gaze lingered on Anadis.

"The ability comes first. The body follows. Don't mistake being Blessed for being ready." Then he clapped his hands loudly.

"Alright," Father added, his tone turning enthusiastic.

"Now, how to awaken your Blessing. It isn't something you trigger or force awake. A Blessing is divine energy that is already flowing within your core. It has been running since the end of the trial. The problem isn't producing it; the problem is noticing it." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. A wave of confusion passed through them as they tilted their heads.

"How exactly do we notice it?" Aelia asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Ah, so the first instinct is always to force it outward, to push the energy somewhere." Father mimicked the motion, stretching both hands forward as if something might burst from his palms. Nothing happened.

"The actual method is the opposite. Go still. Pay attention to what's already inside you, a warmth, a cold, a pressure, a hum in your chest where the core sits." He lowered his hands.

"Once you can feel it clearly, you draw it to the point of least resistance and let it flow within your body like the current of a river." They exchanged puzzled glances, still clearly confused. Father sighed.

"I suppose you'll understand better with practice rather than lecturing." He smiled.

"First, I need you to remove your footwear."

"Why?" This time, Albus raised the question.

"Leywaves," he said matter-of-factly.

"Dad, we aren't Attuners. We can't feel Leywaves." A small smile played on Father's lips when he noticed Anadis's doubtful expression.

"You're not Attuners, and you can't feel leywave pulses," he agreed.

"But leywaves are almost as pervasive as the air around us. They'll flow through your soles and into your core. I believe that will help you notice your Blessing—at least a little."

"Okay…" Anadis wasn't convinced. Still, he removed his sandals. As he wiggled his toes in the grass, he felt the fresh blades, slightly damp from last night's light drizzle, not enough to call it rain, but enough to moisten the soil.

"He knows what he's talking about," the tiny goddess said from her perch on his shoulder.

"How come you're so close to me? Get away," Anadis told her through their mental link. However, he couldn't help but grin a little at the idea of a goddess complimenting his father.

"You're my vessel. I may do as I please with you," she said aloud, hands on hips.

"Now," his father's voice interrupted their minor dispute, "I need each one of you to do three things. First, press a fist against your sternum—not hard, just enough to feel your own heartbeat, and hold it there. Then close your eyes and slow your breathing. This will help you enter a state of meditation and feel your Blessing." Pressing his right fist into his chest, Anadis felt the steady pulsations of his heart right away. He controlled each breath, slow and steady, with his eyes closed.

But this wasn't anything special. It was the norm. So what was his father going on about? As if reading his mind, Father continued, "My methods are cruder and more physical than how most Blessens teach," he said with an even tone.

"I believe the heartbeat is the anchor of your being, and the Blessing lives right beside it inside your core." Father tapped a finger against Albus's chest. Anadis cracked one eye open to glance over.

"So now focus on that rhythm and forget about the outside. Your Blessing will respond." Focus, Anadis repeated in his mind. But what exactly was he supposed to concentrate on besides his heartbeat? He could hear it clearly, but then what should he do? Suddenly, a bright light flashed to the right of him, insistent even through his closed eyes. A crackling sound filled the air, as though oil were sizzling in a pan. The first thing Anadis saw when he opened his eyes was lightning engulfing Albus's left hand.

It crackled at his fingertips like coiling serpents. Father stared at it in silence, eyes wide. The lack of reaction was somehow more unsettling than any exclamation would have been.

"Hadrian!" Mother called from the veranda, gasping.

"He already called on it? But you just started!" That's what I'm saying, Anadis thought, still in a daze.

"Our kids are incredible, Marcia," Father whispered.

"See? That's why I wanted him as a vessel," the oh-so-great goddess Helphrena said boastfully.

"Let's see how long it takes you." She looked at Anadis with a smirk. I'll show her. Forty minutes later, Aelia manifested her Blessing. With the paintbrush—apparently a Boon she had received during the trial—she moved it through the air with the same soft, elegant motion she used when striking a canvas. A trail of black ink followed behind it, floating in the air. With a few delicate strokes, she drew a little bird. It came to life, its inky wings fluttering as it lifted off her fingertip and hovered in place.

"Oh, wow!" Nora beamed, clapping her hands rapidly as she ran over from the veranda.

"So whatever you draw comes to life?" She leaned in closer and gently touched the little bird. It flinched, then melted away, the ink dripping onto the grass. Aelia looked a little disappointed, but then a smile appeared on her face when she realized she could just draw another one.

"That's an interesting Blessing she has," Helphrena said as she munched on a grape that looked comically huge in her tiny hands.

"I wonder how she'll develop with each ascension." Aelia ascending? He doubted it. Not because she wasn't talented—her core was a testament to the absurdity of that thought, but because he simply couldn't see his gentle sister venturing out and actually killing Grulls to absorb their shards. That just wasn't her at all. She was the sister who painted, who dreamed, who moved through the world like she was made of morning light and silk. And somehow, almost as a joke, that had become her Blessing.

"Now it's only you left," the little nuisance whispered in his ear.

"How long will it take?" He grunted, and she chuckled as she kept munching on her grape. The twin suns were almost down, and the whole family had gathered on the veranda, ready to start eating. Father had told him to give it a rest, that there were many more days to call on his Blessing, but Anadis was determined to detect his Blessing that night.

"Want some advice?" the pesky goddess offered, her voice laced with that annoying teasing edge. Against his pride, he nodded.

"Good, close your eyes and breathe. Concentrate just like your father said." Anadis shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He felt the steady beat of his heart, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the dry summer wind brushing against his face, and the soft rustling of leaves.

"Good, now remember the exact moment you felt most useless. Most afraid," Helphrena said, her tone like a blade wrapped in silk pressed at his throat.

"The moment you wished you could've changed everything." She leaned in slightly closer to his ear.

"Then reach inward, into the Blessing you already carry, and take the power you need so it never happens again." He clenched his fists, jaw tight, as something dark hovered just at the edge of his mind. An image that would haunt him forever: the girl he couldn't save. Then, as if responding to that pain of regret burning within him, another feeling arose; it was heavy and dense, and also prickly cold, but undeniably there. It calmed him down as he reached for it, and the cold spread across his body in uneven lines.

This was Divine essence welling up inside his body, inside his soul. It crawled along his arms, brushed against his chest, and tugged at his fingertips. He tried to guide it, to weave it the way Father had taught him. Like a puppet master at his craft… well, a very beginner puppet master. It was clumsy and uneven, more guesswork than actual control, but it moved nonetheless. Until—"Open your eyes," Helphrena said. When he opened his eyes, everything had changed. The trees were gone.

Only their faint outlines remained, along with the delicate shapes of their leaves. The rocks were nothing more than outlines too, lacking any sense of mass or weight. In the distance, even his siblings looked translucent.

"Whoa," he breathed, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"This is… What exactly am I looking at?"

"Wait, you actually got it?" Helphrena sounded genuinely surprised.

"What?" Anadis huffed sharply through his nose.

"You were provoking me, right? You didn't think I could call upon the Blessing at all, did you?"

"Uh… of course I did," she said, voice dripping with smug frustration.

"How else was I supposed to drag that pathetic spark of power out of you? You, mortals, are so slow to anger unless someone pokes the right wound. Consider it… motivational guidance from your goddess." Yeah… that was not her intention at all, Anadis thought, smirking. And I called her bluff. His smirk faded when she gave him a slicing leer, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking and didn't appreciate the defamation of her character.

"I will say this once," she said somberly.

"I am not your friend, boy. I am your goddess, using you for my own objectives, and I will continue to do so for as long as we are bonded. Consider me a mentor if it helps you cooperate. But I will not let you disrespect me." She paused.

"That is a courtesy I extend to very few." He nodded, gulping.

"Either way," she continued, "that's called Soul Sight."

"Soul Sight," he echoed.

"What can I do with this?"

"It lets you see the divine core of every living being, including Grulls. Although for them it would be more of a cursed core, so I just call them all soul cores. That's what they basically amount to—souls." She pointed at his family.

"Look at your twin and that other girl, Aelia. How do their soul cores look?" Focusing, he almost had to shield his eyes from Albus's blinding white Divine core, like a miniature sun flaring at him. A thick thread writhed on its outer surface, as if it were alive. Aelia's was almost as bright but yellow, with a thick thread as well, though only half as active as Albus's.

"They each have a differently colored core with a thick thread writhing inside it because they're Blessens of the first ascension," she clarified.

"Yours is the same, but with a darker color."

"I see." He looked down at his own body. His core looked like a polished obsidian sphere, so dark and deep that its surface was nearly impossible to track. It exuded a faint black mist, and a single thread barely moved on its surface, about half the size of Aelia's and Albus's.

"Now focus on your mother's and Grandma's. How do theirs look?" Doing so, he said, "I see a rough, dull, and completely unpolished circular core with no light at all in the center. No threads or whips of any kind either."

"Exactly. That's because their cores are non-Blessen," Helphrena explained.

"Non-Blessen cores aren't divine, so they look almost like spherical rocks."

"Ouch," Anadis yelped, pushing his palms against his eyes as they stung abruptly.

"Be careful not to overuse your Blessing. Your body is still not adept at handling it," the little goddess advised, her brows tugging together in what looked almost like concern for him. Not in a hundred years would I believe that.

"I never heard of divine cores having threads or even a description of how they look. No wonder you were a revered goddess." She huffed proudly.

"About time you started seeing just how glorious I really am—""Of course, of course," he said.

"To show you how much I revere you, I'm going to start calling you Hel from now on. How about that?"

"Don't you dare disrespect me by using a diminutive form of my name!" Hel declared, her tiny arms clenched in outrage.

"Son, we're about to eat," a grave male voice said suddenly.

"Oh, Dad! I finally called on my Blessing," Anadis said eagerly.

"I can see it in your eyes. They're burning like lamps at night," Father said, bending down to his eye level.

"I can see soul cores—well, Divine cores."

"Divine cores?" Father rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully.

"I've never heard of a Blessing capable of that. Can you see mine?" With a nod, Anadis activated Soul Sight. His eyes still stung a bit.

"I see a red Divine core," he said.

"Incredible, you truly can see it," Father said.

"Not many people know that, which means you're actually seeing it." Then a surge of divine essence permeated Anadis's soul, leaving him light-headed. He saw the writhing thread on his father's core… no, it wasn't just one. There were three threads instead of one.