Echoes of Power
He had time to finish another quest and level his skills up before his father called him for supper. They watched the news while eating. The conflict between the countries of the Eastern Gulf and the ones of northern Africa was now apparently in a critical state and could, from what the anchor was saying, develop into a full-blown war soon if tensions kept rising. Despite what the international control authority had tried to do in the last years, things didn’t look any better and the rebels weren’t helping with their attempts to overthrow the governments.
Alexandre liked to keep himself up to date most of the time and, even if he didn’t actively seek information he still liked to gain it when it presented itself to him. Once the new report was over he got up and took both his and his father’s plate to wash them in the sink before going to his room to allow his father some time alone to rest. He hesitated to finish the tome of Soul King but instead decided to read the novel he had started weeks before and still hadn’t finished, that way he would be able to eat his breakfast while reading the end of the manga the next morning. He walked back downstairs a bit before midnight to wish his father a good night and found the older man already asleep on the couch, the TV still on.
“Tss, he must be exhausted…” He whispered to himself as he turned it off and went to check that the door was locked.
He drew the curtains and made sure the shutters were drawn before walking back upstairs, leaving only the small light on the coffee table on in case his father woke up later during the night. He changed into his pyjamas and put his headphones on as he lied on his bed, listening to music as he looked at the clear night sky through the window.
The teenager didn’t know how to explain it but listening to music at night provoked some sort of melancholy in him and it helped him think better, he felt more aware and alive in those moments. They were rare and never lasted very long so he tried to enjoy them to the fullest. His thoughts usually went off into many directions as he kept following them and he ended up thinking about something completely different of what had triggered his interest in the beginning.
That evening he was thinking about earlier during the day, he still couldn’t believe that he hadn’t dreamt all of it. He, Alexandre Parson, a completely normal person and nobody had managed to do something that was supposed to be completely impossible simply by thinking it. And he had done it twice in a matter of minutes… He didn’t understand what it meant nor why he was able to manage such a feat -be it magic or something entirely different-, and even less how he could not freak out about it.
Why hadn’t he become completely crazy after such a miracle? Why wasn’t he telling anyone about it? Was he seriously basing himself on all those movies he had seen? Or was he in fact becoming crazy enough to accept this without hesitation? He didn’t know the answer to these questions but if there was an answer he wanted to get, it was to that mysterious voice. Where did it come from? Was it really an invention from his own brain? And why did it come and go like this? This mystery was one he desperately wanted to shed light on since he was a young boy. As he kept thinking about all this he felt his mind slip away and soon he only had the strength to take off his headphones before drifting off to sleep.