Chapter 155: The Unawakened Talent

The final moments inside Andras’s chambers were quiet.

Lyra had finished packing the last of his belongings. She stood near the table, hands clasped tightly in front of her, as though she was holding herself together through sheer will. Her eyes were slightly red, but no tears had fallen.

"Young Master..." her voice was low. "Please take care of yourself at the Academy."

Andras looked at her. "I will."

Lyra nodded once. She opened her mouth as if to say more, then closed it again. For a second she simply stood there, staring at him.

Then, without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, pressing her face against his chest. Before Andras could react, she rose onto her toes and kissed him.

It was not a hesitant kiss. It was desperate, full of everything she had not said—fear of separation, attachment, and the quiet determination she had been carrying since the night before.

Andras did not push her away. After a brief moment, he accepted it, one hand resting lightly against her back.

When they finally separated, Lyra’s face was flushed. Her eyes were bright, but still no tears had fallen. She stepped back quickly, as though suddenly aware of what she had done.

"I’ll become stronger," she whispered. "So don’t forget."

Andras gave a small nod. "I won’t."

Lyra turned away before he could say anything else. She left the room first, walking quickly down the corridor so that she would not have to watch him leave from the courtyard.

---

Outside, the farewell was brief and composed.

Evelyne stood near the base of the main stairs, her expression controlled, though her blue eyes lingered on Andras longer than usual. Selene waited by the carriage with her arms crossed. Servants stood at a respectful distance. Lyra was nowhere in sight.

Evelyne stepped forward and adjusted the front of his cloak one last time, the same way she had when he was younger.

"Remember to call when you reach the Academy."

"I will."

Andras entered the carriage. The door closed. The wheels began to turn.

As the carriage rolled toward the gates, Andras looked out the window.

In the distance, near the edge of the inner garden path, Lyra stood half-hidden behind a pillar. She had not gone far after all. She was watching him.

Their eyes met.

For a brief moment neither of them looked away.

Then Lyra turned sharply and ran, disappearing deeper into the estate before the carriage fully passed through the gates.

Andras leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

There was nothing more to say.

---

The road away from Darkmoor stretched through managed forests and open farmland. By mid-morning the carriage had left the duchy’s inner territory and entered the common roads used by merchants and travelers. Villages appeared at irregular intervals—clusters of wooden houses, small fields, and people going about their ordinary lives.

Andras opened his eyes and looked out the window.

For a time he simply observed the passing scenery. Then curiosity stirred.

"System," he thought. "Can you show me the status of people outside?"

The familiar interface responded at once.

He focused on a middle-aged farmer walking along the roadside with a hoe resting on his shoulder.

A translucent window appeared.

[Name: Harren]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 41]

[Talent: None]

Andras’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He shifted his attention to a woman carrying two wooden buckets of water from a nearby well.

[Name: Mara]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 34]

[Talent: None]

A young man repairing a broken fence post further down the road.

[Name: Tomas]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 22]

[Talent: None]

Most commoners possessed no talent at all. That matched what he already knew. Talents were not evenly distributed across the population. The majority of people in this world lived and died without ever awakening one. Only a minority were born with the potential for power.

But children were different.

In this world, talents usually awakened around the age of fifteen. Before that age, they remained dormant—present within the soul, but locked and inaccessible.

Andras leaned forward slightly.

"System. Show me the status of children as well. Include unawakened talents."

The system acknowledged the command.

He began checking the children they passed.

Most still showed [Talent: None].

A few displayed locked talents of low rank—basic physical enhancement, minor affinity toward fire or wind, nothing that held any real value. Andras dismissed them without interest.

The carriage continued along the increasingly poorer stretch of road. The houses grew smaller and more poorly maintained. The fields looked less productive. The people thinner.

Then he saw them.

A small group of children sat near a broken wooden fence on the side of the road. Their clothes were little more than patched rags. Most of them were thin, but one boy sat slightly apart from the others. He looked no older than ten or eleven. His arms and legs were painfully slender, the bones visible beneath the skin. His face was hollow, cheekbones sharp, eyes sunken. He stared at the passing carriage with a dull, empty expression, as though he had already learned that nothing good ever stopped for people like him.

Andras focused on the boy.

The system window appeared.

[Name: Eli]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 11]

[Talent: Clone (A-Rank) — Unawakened]

Andras’s eyes sharpened.

Clone.

An A-Rank talent.

Still locked. Still unawakened. But present.

For a moment he simply stared at the window.

So the System can see talents before they awaken.

This was the first time it had shown him something that had not yet manifested. Until now, every talent he had inspected had already been active. The fact that it could detect dormant potential changed the value of the ability considerably.

Andras’s thoughts turned cold and practical.

A cloning ability of that rank would be extremely useful. In the three years he would spend at Ambrose Academy, it would allow him to maintain a presence inside the institution while simultaneously acting in the outside world. Information gathering. Resource collection. Creating alibis. Handling matters at Darkmoor without leaving the Academy. The applications were obvious and numerous.

He stared at the boy for another long second.

Then he spoke.

"Stop the carriage."

The driver pulled the reins at once. The wheels slowed and came to a halt on the dirt road, raising a small cloud of pale dust.

Andras opened the door and stepped down.

The air outside was cooler than inside the carriage. A few of the other children scrambled backward in instinctive fear when they saw a noble in fine clothes step onto the road. The thin boy—Eli—did not move. He only watched, too exhausted or too resigned to react.

Andras walked toward him at an unhurried pace and stopped a few steps away.

The boy looked up. His eyes were dark, sunken, and empty of expectation. There was no hope in them. Only a dull, cautious wariness.

Andras regarded him in silence for a moment.

Then he asked, voice calm and even,

"What is your name, boy?"

The child hesitated. His voice, when it came, was barely audible.

"My name... is Eli."

Andras nodded once.

"Eli."

The boy continued to watch him cautiously, shoulders slightly hunched, as though prepared for a blow or a dismissal.

Andras’s gaze moved over the child’s ragged clothes, the visible ribs, the thin wrists, and the cracked lips.

"You look like you haven’t eaten properly in a while," he said.