The raging flames calmed, slowly losing their power under the influence of the serene blue light.
The cinders completely died down, extinguished only by the blue hue that fell on them.
"Move away!!!"
The mother spoke, her voice layered—two perfectly synchronized—like the resonance of a deity.
Aiden's body tensed, his flames completely dying down. "Spirit resonance," he gulped, pupils dilated as he turned away from the charred corpse, now facing the mother.
Her body was suspended mid-air, the fatigue on her face no more.
Her eyes radiated a blinding blue hue—serene and calming.
Hair swaying as though moving to the rhythm of the sea, strings of water weaved around her arms, connecting to each other above her neck, like a divine veil of an eastern fairy.
The gentle sounds of waves crashing against each other resounded in the room, calm and serene.
"An imperfect synchronization," Aiden realized, his gaze falling on her form.
His nerves calmed, though a bit of tension still lingered in his shoulders.
Though she had been possessed by her spirit, it was a partial possession, considering there was no alteration to her physical being.
A realization that brought him a bit of relief.
Nevertheless, the pseudo-hybrid of a Spirit King was still one to be feared, as they were the highest-ranked spirits—revered even as gods.
"Shit... I am yet to awaken my spirit resonance," he cursed internally, cold sweat beading on his brow.
The dissipating nervousness surged back as the realization hit him.
He would surely die if he didn't find a way out of this.
"Thalassia, please calm down..." he spoke—not to the mother, but to the spirit.
Thalassia, the Spirit King of Water.
Though nervous, his gaze was locked onto hers.
He, too, was a contractor of a Spirit King—Sol, the Father of All Spirits. Though he felt the urge to bow, doing so would be an insult to his spirit.
"Thalassia?!..." the Spirit King echoed disdainfully.
She focused her gaze on him, the serenity they once held no more—quickly replaced by raging storms.
"Know your place?!" she snarled.
Who was he, a mere mortal, to mention the name of a god so casually?
"ARRGH!" Aiden screamed, falling face-first to the ground, an insurmountable pressure descending on him—the undeniable pressure of the sea.
He felt his bones threatening to crack, his organs almost on the verge of bursting.
It felt he would implode into himself, the pain as great as if not greater than child birth, yet he refused to screamed.
His brain was poised to shut down—a defense mechanism to completely cut out the pain—yet he he remained indignant, clenching his jaws, fighting the urge to collapse.
"Igg... ammm sohh... rry," he pleaded, acknowledging his blunder.
Spirit Kings were gods, after all, and it didn't matter if he too was contracted to one—having a god doesn't mean you disrespect the gods of others.
"But Igg... am... notch. wrong... in... mmy agtions... Igg.. it does...n't," he gasped, forcing in a mouthful of breath, "deserve... to li...ve..." he barely made out, his cheeks pressed to the ground.
A disgraceful state he never thought he would experience, yet his eyes still held on to their pride and indignation.
He believed he was not wrong, and not even God could change that.
"..."
The spirit did not respond, turning her gaze to the crying infant in the corner.
The baby's wailed uncontrollably, sending ripples of guilt down her throat.
Despite the guilt she felt, she could also relate to Aiden's words.
The guilt was not her own, but the infant's mother, the sound judgment hers - a testament to tens of thousands of years of existence.
Mira, the child's mother and her contractor, was in pain—crying, begging for her intervention.
But now she was turning to the side of the very one she was meant to oppose.
Her gaze softened, understanding dawning in her.
The pressure on Aiden decreased considerably.
Aiden quickly noticed.
Breathing a sigh of relief.
"It seems she will be considering the greater good."
Teeth gritted, he forced himself to rise, the pressure now a little more bearable.
His ego wounded, but he wasn't going to continue lying down, injuring it further.
"This child will be a stain on both the honour of myself and her—not to mention, the belief of the people will crumble..." He paused, noticing the spirit was quiet, the pressure once again lessening.
"Okay, as expected of a god—she understands the implications," he thought to himself, glad at least Thalassia was more reasonable than her avatar, Mira.
"When word gets out, we will lose the trust of the people. Many religious fanatics would try to get us killed—or even this child..." He stepped forward, his words now more confident.
"The Temple of Water and the Temple of Flames might fall to the rest of the temples. We might also lose our political standing..." He turned to the child.
"We are not mere people—we are symbols. Symbols of power and purity. If word gets out... what will become of such symbols?" he added, his gaze solemn, yet a gleam shone in them—one of selfishness.
He just didn't want to lose his standing.
"This child is not worth it. He's not worth the collapse of two major religious groups..." He furrowed his brows, a look of disdain directed at the infant.
"He is not worth the death of millions..." he added—a bit of an exaggeration, but considering how much influence the Church of Fire and Water held, it might not be entirely false.
"..." Thalassia did not respond, the pressure directed at Aiden completely withdrawn, her gaze solemn as she continued to look at the child.
Sigh! She closed her eyes.
Aiden, noticing this, folded his arms as he waited for her response, a smirk playing on his lips.
He decided to wait, as he knew what it meant for her to close her eyes.
"Mira, you must understand... Naivety is a deadly trait of a leader," he thought, glancing between Mira and the child