The ceremony started at noon and ended at around four in the afternoon. Due to the commotion of the shattered awakening crystal, it took the officials a long time to wrap up the ceremony.

  One by one, the children and their families left the city square. Voices with varying tones of disappointment and cheers can be heard in the air. Parents embraced their children, whispering words of pride or with a caring sense of comfort.

  Aston walked alone.

  The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows on the streets. The once lively atmosphere of the ceremony now quieted to a slow lull, the echoes of celebration now a part of the past. His steps, tracing an old, yet familiar route to his house, dragged like moving through mud.

  Earlier that day, he walked these streets with nervousness, yet with excitement and anticipation. He had dreamt standing tall, hearing gasps of attention when people saw his results in the awakening crystal. He wondered what potential he might awaken.

  Now, Aston finds himself struggling in taking every step. The whispers, the laughter, the condescending voice of Tristan’s sneering remarks - everything continued echoing within his mind.

  As he reached the threshold of his crumbling house, the weight in his chest became unbearable. His vision blurred and his breath ragged. His clutch tightening on the pendant on his chest. He opened the door, and closed it right behind him. He pressed his forehead on the door.

  No one is waiting for him inside. No warm meal. No comforting words.

  He released a heavy breath, releasing the lump from his throat.

  Then finally, his tears fell.

  Aston placed his back by the door and slid down against it, silent sobs echoing through the hollow house. He clutched his pendant tightly, the corners of the pendant dug into his palms, but he hardly noticed this. He could do nothing but to hold on - hold on to something before everything inside his heart unraveled.

  The echoes wouldn’t stop. Tristan’s sneer. The children’s laughing remarks. The crowd’s pity. The cold, unfeeling words flashed by the monitor.

  Potential: Clear.

  Aston was awakened by a sharp sting in his palm. Something warm trickled inside his clenched hand. His grip tightened so hard that the jagged edges of the pendant pierced his skin, carving thin, red lines in his palm. His body trembled, but refused to let go.

  He wanted to scream. He felt that the world is unfair. But the house was empty. No one would hear. No one would care.

  The pain in his hands dulled, overtaken by the overwhelming exhaustion creeping over him. His sobs grew quieter, his breath slowed. His hands, still bloodied by the pendant, slowly loosened. His shoulders slumped. He finally gave in.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  It was too early to sleep. The sun still hung in the sky, albeit sinking. But sleep came for him anyway.

  The pendant hung loosely against his chest. The etchings on the pendant were streaked and filled with a crimson liquid. Then…

  A faint glow. The pendant pulsed, absorbing the blood as if drinking Aston’s despair and pain. The etchings within the cuboid pendant shined, as if alive, before the glow faded to nothingness.

  Darkness swirled, shifting and pulling him deeper to a deep sleep. Then, a warm glow flashed through the void. Aston found himself in an unfamiliar room. A dimly lit room, the glowing fire in the fireplace casting shadows across the room.

  Aston looked up. A beautiful woman, dressed in noble clothes, but with countenance blurred, cradled a newborn. Even when the face is obscured, one can feel the love she had for the child.

  Aston’s view then shifted down to the child. He was shocked to find the baby familiar. He has seen this child many times from photographs. This was him. But before he gathered his thoughts, he found his vision swinging from left to right, as his perspective changed from looking down at the baby to looking up. It was as if he was tied between two ropes.

  Is this a dream? Aston thought to himself.

  Then, a man approached from behind and looked at the baby with a tender gaze. Similar to the woman, the man’s countenance is also obscured.

  “Dear,” said the woman.

  The man nodded, “Mhm. This pendant will keep him safe.”

  Then, a movement. The child was passed from the hands of the woman to an old lady.

  “Teresa, take care of him. Only the three of us must know,” the woman pleaded to the old lady.

  Teresa bowed to the woman and the man before taking the child in the woman’s arms, and said, “I swear to it, my lady.

  Then, Aston’s view shifted. The scene changed from a room to a familiar house. A somber atmosphere hung in the air. Aston’s view, while looking up at Aunt Teresa who was carrying him.

  This is auntie’s bedroom…

  A tearful look was plastered on her face. With ragged breaths, she murmured, “They told me to give this to him after his awakening, no matter what the result is.” Her voice wavered as she held a box on her other hand.

  Aston’s view wandered and found a tablet by Aunt Teresa’s lap. The screen showed a news article.

  Renowned Scholars Lost in Tragic Accident

  Authorities have confirmed a devastating incident involving two esteemed researchers whose carriage was discovered wrecked at the bottom of Vale Ravine late last night. Officials report that the vehicle was shattered beyond recognition, with personal belongings lost to the depths. Despite extensive search efforts, no remains have been recovered.

  Eyewitnesses claim the carriage veered off course under unusual circumstances, though no conclusive evidence has surfaced. Investigations continue, with speculation ranging from mechanical failure to deliberate foul play. The loss of these brilliant minds marks a significant blow to the academic and scientific community.

  Aunt Teresa silently wept while assuring the child, unaware of the situation. She planted a kiss on the child’s forehead while saying and rocking him gently, “It’s all right, little one. You don’t need to worry about anything. You won’t be alone, Aston.”

  Outside the window, something stirred in the darkness. A soft rustle. The faintest sound of wings.