Chapter 4: The Weight Of Knowledge.
"El? wake up... Elian!"
Light hit him like a hard slap to the face, too bright after all that dark, and Elian flinched hard enough to nearly headbutt whoever was leaning over him.
"—okay, he’s okay, give him space!"
It Roderic’s voice, closer now, accompanied by the shuffle of footsteps. His voice rough with something that wasn’t quite panic but was standing right next to it.
There was a hand under his shoulders, easing him up off what turned out to be the vault’s cold stone floor rather than the endless nothing he’d just been floating in.
Elian blinked hard, the hall swimming back into focus in pieces.
His brother’s was face too close and too pale, the was magistrate hovering a few feet back with his composure visibly cracking for the first time all evening, and beyond that, ringing the top of the vault stairs, forty relatives who had clearly abandoned all pretense of politely waiting their turn and were now just openly staring.
"What..."
His voice came out wrecked, like he’d been shouting instead of unconscious.
He cleared his throat, tried again.
"What happened?"
"You tell us,"
Roderic said, half a laugh, half something more frightened than he was bothering to hide.
"You went stiff, then your eyes rolled back, and you just... dropped. Scared ten years off Father’s life, I think, look at him."
He pointed upstairs.
Elian followed his finger, blinking a few times before he could finally focus onto the image of his father.
The man wasn’t sitting anymore, he was frozen halfway through getting up, his eyes fixated on Elian. He had let go off all pretenses of a diplomatic appearance, instead having an expression on weathered his face that Elian had never seen.
Laying there on the cold tiled floor, not knowing any better of what the man had go through, the only thing Elian managed to make out was that his father looked like he was reliving something... like a horrible memory.
He turned back to Roderick, swallowing back the wave of guilt that was rising within him, and made out the few words he could.
"Sorry..." He said, carefully choosing his words. "I just got overwhelmed by the staff for a moment."
Roderic gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, smiling warmly.
"I know, I know. I’m just glad that your safe."
Then he turned to the magistrate, and gave a nod.
The chubby old man wiped the sweat of his forehead, and raised the voice amplifying artifact in his hands towards his lips.
He cleared his throat, and a small moment of silence.
Then,
"The Second Son of Valcourt has achieved the impossible feat!" His voice was uncharacteristically energetic. "He has awakened the Everbloom Staff!"
***
Thing moved too quickly after that, Elian barely remembered being showered with a plethora of wishes and congratulations and gifts.
A party was held in his honour, and he was officially gifted the magical staff that had made him faint in front of his entire extended family, no questions asked by anyone, which he found somewhat concerning.
He had already mentally checked out by the party was about to end late in the evening, the relatives had all left one by one, and everyone that remained in the house were important personnel, immediate family members and the servants that were cleaning up after the day’s event.
Elian was standing in the balcony of the event hall, looking out into the darkness as he recalled the events of the day.
He let out a small sigh, and took a good look at the staff leaning by his side, as he hadn’t been able to let go off the damned thing since he had been given it in the morning.
It still felt surreal to him, that he had somehow ended up being chosen by the artifact.
And that too, because he had made a slip up in the process he had been taught since childhood.
He had always thought that if anyone managed to open the petals of the Everbloom in his generation, it would be his brother, who was already considered a genius in magic even by noble standards, enough so that he never had to go to any magic academy to study, having already reached the level of an accomplished mage even without it.
Never ever in his life, would he had thought that he would be the person who managed this feat.
"Taking a breather?"
Elian turned to see Roderic leaning on the doorway to the balcony, a glass of wine in his hand still. He still had that warm smile stretched in his face, that same smile that he refused to let go off whenever he was talking to his little brother.
"I just needed a moment." Elian said, turning around, voice quiet amidst the rustling off the leaves from the yard.
"Tell me about it," He sighed, stepping towards his side and leaning on the railing. "It’s hard keeping up with the family business."
Elian took a sideways glance, hesitating for a moment.
"It should have been you."
Roderic didn’t answer for a long while, staring off into the distance in silence, when he did speak however, Elian was completely caught off-guard by what he said.
"I always knew that i would never manage to awaken the staff."
A long pause.
Elian felt scared to ask the next question.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Roderic turned to him, and took a small sip from wine glass as he considered something for a long moment.
"I’ll tell you if you promise that you won’t tell father that I let you know."
Elian turned too, looking him in the eyes.
"...Sure?"
"It’s only known among a few people in our family, mostly the elders who’ve attempted awakening before."
He said it slowly, taking his time with the words.
"The staff lets you know that if you’re worthy or not on the first time, it’s... like a constant stream of vertigo being channeled into you, enough to make you sick for a few days. Nothing ever happens after that, no reaction, nothing. You were the first person in a long while to not experience it, so we had hope."
His smiled turned warmer, and his gaze turned a little softer, like a big burden had been lifted off of him.
"We never told you because we didn’t want to put any ideas in your mind, but it was only a question of time of when you awakened the staff. Not an if, but a when."
Elian’s throat went tight before he even had words for why.
"You... knew?" His voice cracked on the second word, no better than it had in the vault.
"This whole time, you all just... knew?"
"Not knew," Roderic said gently. "Hoped. There’s a difference, and it’s not a small one, believe me."
He set his wine glass down on the balcony railing, both hands free now, like he’d realized this wasn’t a conversation to have while holding something.
"You’ve spent your whole life thinking you were someone nobody expected anything from. I let you think that, because Father asked me to, and because I genuinely didn’t know how to tell you otherwise without it sounding like a burden instead of a gift. I’m sorry for that. I think it was the wrong call, watching you tonight."
"You didn’t have to."
"I wanted to."
Roderic’s smile had gone soft in a way Elian had rarely seen past the golden, easy version his brother wore for everyone else.
"I’ve heard stories of what happen down in that vault. Six generations, El. Grandfather couldn’t stand upright for two days after his Attempt. Aunt Miriel wouldn’t speak of it for a year. And you just... stood there. Overwhelmed, yes, but standing. The staff didn’t have to drag you under to get your attention on the first attempt. It just had to prepare for a long time to ask."
Something finally gave way in Elian’s chest, quiet and total, the way a held breath goes when you finally stop bracing for the blow that was never coming.
He hadn’t cried in front of anyone in years—hadn’t let himself, not since he’d learned exactly which parts of him were safe to show and which ones needed a tighter collar and a shorter haircut—and he felt it coming now with no warning at all, sudden and humiliatingly unstoppable.
"I thought..." He had to stop, swallow, try again.
"I really thought" A heavy inhale. "I was going to be the one everyone quietly stopped mentioning. Like Uncle Elvis."
"I know."
Roderic didn’t reach for him right away, just let the silence sit there a moment, giving him room—and then, when Elian’s shoulders finally dropped, he closed the distance and pulled him into an actual hug, the kind they hadn’t really done since Elian was small enough to be picked up.
"I know you did. I’m sorry we let you."
Elian pressed the heel of his hand hard against his eyes, furious at himself and unable to stop anyway, and cried—quietly, gracelessly, years of it all at once—while his brother just held on and let him, and the Everbloom Staff leaned patient and glowing against the railing beside them both, as if it had been waiting exactly as long as anyone for this.
Below, in the darkened garden, the last of the party lights were being put out one by one.
Above, the stars had come out fully now, indifferent and endless, nothing at all like the abyss he’d woken from.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, Elian had let himself be seen crying, and nothing terrible had happened at all.