After a few moments, Asher emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped casually around his waist.
"You may come in, Lyra," he said, loosening the towel as he stood before the mirror clad only in his underwear, quietly admiring his stature.
Though he had never committed to a rigorous training regimen, he had grown accustomed to this body, incorporating modest exercises, a handful of push-ups, some squats, and light calisthenics. Not that his physique demanded it, but he resolved to maintain some semblance of discipline through these simple movements.
Lyra entered with quiet composure, the door closing softly behind her. She approached Asher and handed him the attire designated for the day.
Since this was the day of his awakening, and his final opportunity at it, he was expected to present himself impeccably, allowing for nothing less. Accepting the garments, Asher dressed with effortless grace: tailored black trousers, an ash-colored shirt intricately embroidered with subtle patterns in various hues, and polished black shoes completing the ensemble.
Asher had insisted to Lyra that he did not wish to appear ostentatious, yet even in his understated attire, he carried an undeniable air of distinction. ’Simply the face and physique of a born charmer.’ he mused with a subtle smile.
"Happy seventeenth birthday, Young Master," Lyra said softly, the faintest hint of a smile touching her lips. She then lifted her hand, conjuring a small, square box that materialized effortlessly. Gently, she handed it to Asher.
’A space ring,’ Asher thought, his eyes briefly flickering to the ring adorning Lyra’s index finger. "Hoo... You’ve never given me a gift before, Lyra. What makes this birthday any different from the previous sixteen?" he asked as he accepted the small box and carefully opened it. Inside lay a wristwatch.
Having come from a technologically advanced world, Asher had witnessed timepieces of every imaginable design and caliber. Though the watches of this world could not rival those marvels, this one possessed a unique charm all its own.
"Thank you, Lyra. I truly appreciate this," he said with a warm smile, fastening the watch onto his wrist without hesitation.
Lyra observed silently as Asher fastened the wristwatch with swift ease. "I’m glad it pleases you, Young Master," she said quietly.
Asher nodded, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "You know, with our impending banishment, it’s best to save every penny we can."
Lyra offered no laughter, her voice steady and resolute. "I’m certain this time you will awaken, and prove everyone wrong."
Asher shook his head with quiet conviction. "I have nothing to prove to anyone, Lyra." With that, he strode toward the chair where he took his breakfast each morning.
"Breakfast will be served shortly, Young Master," Lyra said calmly before stepping out of the room.
’Four days of boredom. No phones, no games, no internet. What do people my age do for amusement? Touch grass, perhaps?’ Ethan mused silently as he ate the meal Lyra had brought him moments before.
Within minutes, he had finished. Rising from his seat, Asher approached the door but paused just before it. Drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled with measured calm. Today, he was to confront the outside world for the very first time. After a brief moment of quiet resolve, he opened the door and stepped beyond its threshold.
Lyra waited just outside, observing his emergence. "Shall we proceed, Lyra?" Asher said, already turning toward the chamber where the Awakening would take place. In the Wargrave family, every detail necessary for the awakening was meticulously prepared a day in advance.
Spotting a maid along the way, Asher gestured for her to clear his room, noting the plates still left behind. After a short walk, he arrived before a massive black door.
Two guards stood vigilantly at its sides, their weapons resting casually at their waists. Upon seeing Asher, they bowed in unison and greeted, "Good morning, Tenth Sun."
Asher paused briefly, returning their salute with a nod. "We wish the Tenth Sun success," they intoned simultaneously as the door glided open of its own accord, inviting him inside with a subtle motion. Without hesitation, Asher stepped through, Lyra following closely behind.
He walked with a calm, measured gait, his heart maintaining a steady, composed rhythm as he entered the hall. The chamber was vast, dominated at its center by a one-meter-tall pedestal, above which hovered a white, crystal-like orb, suspended mere centimeters from the surface.
Asher’s eyes swept across the hall, absorbing his surroundings. Rising tiers of seats encircled the chamber like a colosseum, and scattered among them were figures, each bearing a distinct hair and eye color, yet all sharing an unmistakable aura of menace. Their physiques and attire spoke unequivocally of death.
These were the witnesses to Asher’s final awakening. The Wargrave family bore no singular trait in hair or eye color; it was their awakening alone that set them apart, rendering each uniquely formidable.
’Two Great Elders, three Elders, three Suns, one Moon,’ Asher counted silently as his footsteps came to a halt. ’It appears the Primarch and his wife are absent,’ his thoughts lingered with a quiet curiosity.
Lyra had already retreated to a distant corner, standing silently in observance. This was Asher’s moment, meant to be witnessed from the sidelines. The fate of both their lives would be determined here, in this very instant.
A heavy silence stretched across the hall, thick and unbroken. No one spoke; all eyes fixed on Asher, as if silently urging him to make the first move. Among the spectators, Thalric sat with a sardonic smile curling his lips.
He had arrived fully convinced of Asher’s inevitable failure, and subsequent banishment. After all, if Asher had faltered twice before, why should the third attempt be any different?
Then, abruptly, the silence was broken. The door behind Asher swung open, revealing a man clad in a pristine butler’s uniform, white immaculate gloves. He stood tall, six foot two, with striking black hair and piercing black eyes.
Zarek: the Primarch’s personal butler and trusted right-hand man.