Beyond Realities

In the heart of the peaceful city of Archeon, life carried on like any other day. Merchants called out their wares in the bustling streets, nobles passed by in carriages lined with gold, and children laughed as they ran through the fountains that dotted the city square.

But none of them noticed the shadow slipping silently through the crowd.

A lone figure moved among them—slow, deliberate, cloaked in black from head to toe. His hood hung low, concealing his face in complete darkness. Not even the flicker of sunlight could catch a glimpse beneath it. To the people of Archeon, he was just another cloaked traveler. But the air around him told a different story. It carried a stillness… a pressure that didn't belong.

He walked without direction, or so it seemed. His boots made no sound against the stone path, and though he brushed past many, not one could recall his presence moments later. A strange fog of forgetfulness followed him like a cloak of its own.

He paused in front of a small fruit stall, his head turning slightly toward the towering palace far in the distance. Under his breath, only the wind could hear his words.

"So… this is where the boy lives."

A faint smile curled beneath the shadow of his hood.

"The one who broke the God's Orb. How... interesting."

And just like that, he turned away and vanished into the crowd again—like a ripple fading into calm water, leaving nothing behind.

But for those sensitive enough to feel it, a chill brushed the edge of the city.

Something had entered Archeon.

And it was looking for something—or someone.

(Vaelenor's Point of View)

The warm rays of the morning sun spilled through my window, but I was still in bed—dead asleep like a rock buried beneath a mountain. If there were a trophy for deepest sleeper in Archeon, I'd win it without contest. But despite the bliss of slumber, duty called.

I groaned, rubbed my eyes, and forced myself up. My head still felt heavy, but no time to waste—training doesn't wait for weakness. Half-asleep, I stumbled to my workout gear and started moving. Push-ups, sit-ups, anything to shake off this weird fatigue. Then I chugged down a few energy potions like water, hoping they'd give me that extra boost. Instead… my stomach just gurgled.

Still dizzy.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I dragged myself to the dining table where Mom, Queen Lyria, was already waiting with her ever-observant eyes. She looked at me like I'd just come back from a week-long battle. My shoulders drooped.

"Vael," she said gently but firmly. "You're going to see Selera today. A psychic. We need to find out what's happening to your body."

I froze with a spoon halfway to my mouth.

Selera Emberlyn? Seraphina's mother?

…Great.

I didn't want to go. What if they found out about him—the annoying voice that's been stuck in my head since that cursed orb incident? That thing that talks too much, mocks me daily, and acts like it owns my brain?

"They can't see me," the voice whispered smugly. "Relax. I'm subtle, unlike your pickaxe swings."

I let out a sigh. "Yeah, subtle like a dying bat," I muttered.

"What was that?" Mother raised a brow.

"Nothing. Just… excited to see a psychic," I said with the fakest smile imaginable.

So off we went. Through the quieter part of Archeon, past the main streets and into a more secluded corner of the city. That's where Selera's place stood—a tent-like house that looked like it had popped straight out of a fantasy book. No door. Just layers of cloth draped over the entrance. Mysterious trinkets, charms, and strange herbs dangled around it, swaying with the wind.

We stepped inside.

The air was thick with incense. The place smelled of old secrets, and the kind of mysticism that made my skin itch. And there she sat—Selera Emberlyn, her green hair flowing like moss-covered vines, her blind eyes closed, yet somehow aware of everything. She couldn't see with her eyes, but rumor had it she could feel your soul.

"Welcome, Your Grace," she greeted my mother. Her voice was calm, like water in a sacred spring. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I stood beside Mom, awkward and silent. Honestly, I hoped she'd forget I was here.

But the moment I entered, Selera's face shifted.

"…Who is that boy?" she asked, her tone laced with unease. "Something… unnatural clings to him."

Mom looked at me, confused. "That's my son. Vaelenor."

For a moment, Selera didn't reply. Her brows furrowed, as if trying to reach into the void for an answer.

The voice inside me clicked its tongue. "Tch. Looks like she can sense me. Maybe it's time I slip into the shadows for a bit, hmm?"

And just like that, I felt it—like a pressure lifting off my chest. The strange dark energy that had been clinging to me since the cave started to fade, vanishing into nothing. Selera tilted her head, puzzled.

"…Strange. It was there a moment ago."

She stood slowly and walked toward me, placing her fingers gently above my heart without touching me. "There's no mana inside him," she whispered, "yet I sensed a darkness within him… fleeting… as if masked."

Mother explained my symptoms—my dizzy spells, insomnia, lack of appetite, the cursed energy, everything. And with that, Selera began her ritual.

Seraphina soon entered as well, standing by quietly. Her eyes—always sharp—suddenly widened. She saw it.

A swirling dark smoke, coiled within me like a parasite. Not the voice, but something else. Something far older. A lingering curse from the orb I had struck inside the Greendale cave.

Selera, with grace and precision, began to draw the smoke out, her hands dancing through the air in sacred motion. The room trembled faintly as the black mist hissed and swirled, fighting to stay lodged inside me.

And then—it was gone.

I exhaled like I had been underwater for days. My muscles relaxed. The weight on my chest disappeared.

"I've removed the lingering curse," Selera said softly. "It clung to him like a shadow. But it's gone now."

I blinked in disbelief. Was it really… over?

We stepped out of Selera's place, and for the first time in weeks, I actually felt… normal. The sun felt warmer, the air fresher, and I swear the world just looked a little brighter.

"Yes," I whispered under my breath, throwing my fist in the air. "No more curses. No more creepy voices. I'm free!"

My mother glanced at me with a gentle smile. I returned it, pretending to be calm and composed, but deep inside, I was already planning my victory dance. Maybe I'd even celebrate with two extra rounds of push-ups tonight. Life was good again.

Or so I thought.

"Hah... you really thought I was gone, huh?"

I froze. My stomach dropped.

"…No," I muttered. "No. No. NO. Don't tell me—"

"Nice try," the voice echoed with a chuckle. "But old lady Selera couldn't banish me. I'm not part of that little smoke show."

I gritted my teeth. I knew it. Too good to be true.

"You—you said nothing while I was inside that mystical circus tent! You pretended to vanish!"

"I did vanish," the voice replied smugly. "Temporarily. I let the curse take the spotlight while I chilled in the background. That curse was the smelly one, by the way. You know, the thing you inhaled from the orb like a dumb puppy sniffing a fart?"

"…Excuse me??"

"You're excused."

I groaned and rubbed my face. "I can't believe this. So I'm not free?"

"Oh, you're free from that curse," the voice said. "Selera got rid of the rot that was wrapped around the orb. That foul smell, the dizziness, the sleeplessness—yep, all part of the orb's barrier curse. She did her job. You're clean now."

"But you're still here," I muttered, looking down at the stone path as we walked. "Still whispering in my head. Still being annoying."

"Excuse me again—annoying? I saved you from dying of boredom. You would've gone insane training with a pickaxe for the rest of your life. And let's not forget, I'm not a curse. I'm... let's just say, formerly imprisoned."

"Imprisoned?" I blinked. "Inside the orb?"

"Well, duh. You broke it, and voila, you freed me. Sealed for who-knows-how-long, and now I'm squatting inside your soul rent-free."

"That explains… way too much."

"Of course," the voice said proudly. "You're welcome, by the way. I could've possessed you, but I chose to be chill."

"…Chill?"

"Yeah. I'm the most reasonable ancient power you'll ever meet."

I rolled my eyes.

Then the voice got serious for a second.

"That lady… Selera… she could see me."

"She's Seraphina's mother. Of course she's strong," I muttered under my breath. "She could probably exorcise a demon with a sigh."

"Mhm. A rare breed. Blind to the world, but she sees deeper than most. Impressive."

"Well, at least she didn't rip you out along with the curse."

"Oh please. I hide well. Like a shadow under your bed. Or that last speck of rice that escapes your spoon."

"Ugh. Shut up."

"Make me."

I took a deep breath. "Okay, so… just to make it clear. The orb was cursed. The smell was the curse. The curse is gone. You're not the curse."

"Correct."

"…But you were sealed in the cursed orb?"

"Exactly."

"…And now you live in me."

"Bingo."

"And there's nothing I can do about it."

"Not unless you want to explode. But hey, I'm a great roommate."

I groaned. "Why me…"

"Because you were dumb enough to smack a suspicious ancient orb with a pickaxe."

"That's fair."

"Glad we agree."

I sighed, placing a hand over my chest as I walked beside my mother in silence. Outside, I looked calm. Inside? Screaming. Loudly.

Thud.

"Oof—!" I stumbled back slightly. My shoulder bumped hard into someone.

I blinked, looking up.

A tall figure wrapped head to toe in a heavy black cloak stood before me. I couldn't see his face—only a hint of pale skin under the hood, and something cold in the way he stared. His presence felt… wrong. Like the air itself had stopped moving for a second.

He didn't say a word.

Just stared at me.

And then… walked past.

"…Weird guy," I muttered.

"That guy's not from around here."

The voice in my head returned like a whisper from a creepy attic.

"Huh? What do you mean?" I mumbled.

"Oh nothing. Just that the guy who bumped into you might be—oh-ho-ho-ho—HAHAHA!"

I rolled my eyes. "What the hell are you laughing at?"

"Are you scared, Vael? Don't tell me you're scared of one guy in a cloak!"

"I'm not scared," I hissed under my breath, checking if my mother noticed me talking to myself. She was a few steps ahead, thankfully too focused on buying flowers from a nearby vendor.

"Awkwardly defensive. Classic sign of fear."

"Shut up," I muttered, forcing a casual laugh to shake off the tension. "Maybe he's just a wandering merchant or something."

"Yeah. A wandering merchant who walks around like he's allergic to sunlight and smells like sealed darkness."

"You can smell him??" I whispered.

"No, you can. Didn't you feel that drop in temperature when he looked at you? That wasn't imagination."

"…Okay, that was creepy," I admitted, rubbing my arm. "So… you're saying he's—?"

"Relax, relax. Unless he's one of the messengers of the Dark Side, he can't sense me. Nothing to worry about."

"…Messengers of the what now?!"

"Forget I said anything."

"No. You literally just dropped a bomb and walked away—!"

"Look," the voice cut me off. "I'm strong, okay? And I live in you. If anything happens, I'll protect you. Probably."

"…Probably?!"

"Just don't eat any more cursed orbs and we're good."

I groaned. "This is my life now, huh?"

"Yep. But hey—free commentary and built-in life coach. What more could you ask for?"

"I want peace."

"Yeah, well, I want grilled meat and a throne made of obsidian, but we don't always get what we want."

I sighed again.

As I glanced behind me, the cloaked man was already gone—like a shadow that had never been there in the first place.

But that eerie chill he left behind? That stayed

.

(Unknown POV – The Mysterious Cloak Figure )

The moment my shoulder brushed against the boy, something pulsed beneath his skin.

A resonance.

So this is the one who shattered the God's Orb…

He reeks of something not from this world. The scent of ancient energy… and a sleeping storm.

I did not stop. I merely glanced.

One second.

That was all I needed.

Beneath the boy's casual confusion, there was something buried—something that should not be walking in this era.

My boots clicked softly against the stone paths of Archeon. The city's cheerful clamor, the smell of baked bread, the distant clatter of market stalls—all irrelevant.

They don't know what sleeps here.

What's been freed.

And who watches.

I reached into my cloak and pulled out a small obsidian shard, the surface etched with runes that shimmered faintly red. Holding it up to the sunlight, the symbols glowed and twisted, reacting.

"…Confirmed."

The shard hissed. A single red crack formed across its face.

He's awakened it. The Authority fragment… has chosen a vessel.

I returned the shard to my cloak and stepped into an alley, melting into the shadows.

Soon, others would come.

The ones who hear the echo of the orb.

But he—Vaelenor Vaelen—he has no idea of what he carries.

Yet.

I tilted my head skyward.

The gods will weep for their silence.

The seal has been broken.

And the boy who trains with a pickaxe?

He may become the key… or the calamity.