Chapter 12: Leaving the Cocoon
(Valerian Alzette’s POV)
I watched as my new disciple left the office, then turned back to face his father, Duke Anthony Vortex. Even though both of us bore the peerless rank of SS, I could not help but acknowledge the truth: nothing could truly stand in his way. Not with the attribute he possessed, bestowed by the title he carried, Archon of the Undrowned.
And yet, despite all that power and certainty, he had come to seek me out personally.
So when he asked for my help, the words carried a gravity that left me... genuinely surprised.
He came to ask me to help his firstborn, a child who collapsed into unconsciousness immediately after his awakening. Even I, who lived far on the border of the kingdom, had heard the dark rumours that swirled around him. Yet, when the Duke himself appeared at my door, how could I refuse?
It was only on the journey to his grand estate that I learned the boy had awakened with an SSS potential. The revelation stunned me, for I already knew of two other children in the kingdom who had achieved such an impossible feat. But what truly captured my interest, what stirred something deeper than mere curiosity, was the title that accompanied his awakening: Aegis Healer.
A name that spoke of shields and salvation, of someone who would stand between the world and its ruin. Such a title was unlike any I had ever encountered, and it whispered of a fate that could not be ignored.
As the Duke and I sat in silence, I could not help but wonder if he truly understood the magnitude of the child’s title.
Perhaps he did, in his quiet, stoic way. Or perhaps the weight of what was to come had yet to settle on his shoulders.
***
(Alash Vortex’s POV)
It’s been several hours since I left my father’s office, and the weight of our conversation still lingered in my mind. My room was quieter than ever, yet the air carried a subtle tension, as if it already knew I wouldn’t belong to it much longer.
The maids had moved swiftly after my stepmother’s command. In less than an hour, they had packed most of my clothes and gathered all the daily necessities I might need for the journey ahead. It was unsettling to see my familiar belongings organized for departure, each item a small piece of the life I was leaving behind.
Now, I lay sprawled on my bed, soaking in the softness and warmth one last time. The silk sheets clung gently to my skin, and the familiar scent of my room, old paper, polished wood, and faint traces of lavender wrapped around me like a shroud. This was my cocoon, the sanctuary that had shielded me from the world for ten peaceful years, a fortress of idleness and comfort.
The thought of leaving it behind brought an ache I couldn’t quite name. I ran my fingers lightly across the pillow, committing to memory the cool, smooth texture, the way it shaped itself perfectly to cradle my head.
Even with the weight of the Akashic Record throbbing faintly in my soul and the golden quests etched into the back of my mind, a lazy part of me whispered that I could stay here forever. That I could close my eyes and drift into sleep, letting the world and its storms pass me by.
But that world would not wait anymore.
With a reluctant sigh, I turned onto my back, staring at the carved ceiling as sunlight streamed through the tall windows. This room had been my refuge, my shield against expectations, responsibilities, and whispers that I wasn’t meant to hear. And now, it was just a brief pause before I stepped into a life I could no longer sleep through.
I let my eyes drift shut for a final moment, embracing the cocoon that had protected me all these years. One last nap before everything changed.
’Goodbye, old friend,’ I thought, as drowsiness tugged at my consciousness. ’You were the best accomplice a lazy heir could ask for.’
A few minutes later, a maid stepped into my room through the already open door.
"Young master, everyone is waiting for you in front of the gate," she said softly, a trace of urgency in her voice.
With a reluctant sigh, I pushed myself up from the bed, feeling the lingering warmth of the silk sheets slide away. My feet carried me toward the doorway, each step a quiet farewell to the sanctuary that had cradled me for ten years.
As I reached the threshold, I hesitated. My eyes wandered over the now‑empty room, its shelves and closets cleared, the familiar cocoon stripped bare. A pang of nostalgia tugged at my chest. It felt as if the room itself was watching me leave, silent and unmoving, yet full of memories.
Then a sudden, almost mischievous thought crossed my mind.
I turned back, walked over to the bed, and carefully gathered my four pillows, the loyal companions of countless naps and dreams. One by one, I stored them inside my storage ring, watching them vanish in soft flashes of light.
A satisfied smile curled my lips as I glanced around the room one last time, knowing I was carrying a piece of it with me.
When I turned toward the door, I caught the flicker of amusement on the maid’s face, her lips twitching as if she were suppressing laughter.
I only smiled wider, then walked out to face the world waiting beyond the gates.
***
In front of the grand estate gates, I paused in surprise. Not only were my father and stepmother waiting, but my step-siblings as well, a rare sight indeed.
Marco Vortex, my eight‑year‑old stepbrother, stood close to his mother, his small face arranged into the self‑satisfied smirk of a child who had never heard the word "no." His blue hair glinted in the sunlight, the exact shade as Father’s, and his matching eyes seemed to sparkle more with mischief than warmth.
Beside him, clutching his hand tightly, was my five‑year‑old stepsister. Her wide sky‑blue eyes, so like mine and Father’s, shone with a soft, innocent curiosity. In contrast to her brother, she bore her mother’s midnight‑black hair, the long strands cascading down her small shoulders like a silken river.
The family tableau was nearly perfect: my proud father, my poised stepmother, the favoured children at her side. For a brief moment, I simply watched them, an outsider in my own home, the weight of departure settling heavier upon my chest.
Stepping forward, I felt the shift in the air, the subtle ripple of expectation. My father’s gaze was steady, unreadable, while my stepmother’s lips curved in a faint, controlled smile. Marco smirked wider upon seeing me, as if my journey were a spectator’s sport, and my little stepsister’s fingers tightened around his, her eyes never leaving my face.
This was the send‑off I hadn’t expected, framed by the iron gates and the long road beyond, the world waiting to pull me from the cocoon I had known all my life.
I walked past my stepmother and her children without a single glance, my footsteps carrying me straight to my father. I stopped in front of him, my posture steady, and with a final breath of composure, I said, "Thank you for the opportunity you’ve given me, Father. I will make you proud."
He gave a small, satisfied nod and tapped my shoulder twice, silent, but enough to convey his acknowledgment.
Without another word, I turned and walked toward the carriage waiting at the gates. I didn’t look back, not at my family, not at the towering estate behind me. I had never considered it my true home; only the quiet refuge of my room and the comfort of my bed had ever felt like home to me.
As the carriage door closed and the wheels began to turn, I let the last threads of that familiar life slip away, carrying my cocoon of comfort with me into the unknown.