Chapter 9 – The World Begins to Reveal Itself
Adrian groaned and slowly placed a trembling hand on his forehead, feeling a dull throbbing pain pulsing in his skull. His vision blurred for a moment as he adjusted to the dim lighting, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He lay there, still, waiting for his senses to return. The ceiling above him — aged, cracked, yet still intact — loomed like a reminder of a shelter that had seen better days. Someone had clearly gone through the trouble of patching it up. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep out the worst of the wind and sand.
"Where... am I?" he whispered, his voice dry and hoarse, barely louder than a breath.
He pushed himself upright with effort, muscles stiff and sore. His fingers brushed against worn-out cushions and rough fabric as he sat up on what appeared to be an old couch. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the broken wooden boards, painting golden lines across the dusty room. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, dancing in the beams of light. The scent of old wood and sand filled his nose — a mixture that reminded him of forgotten places, abandoned memories, and time that had long passed.
His eyes scanned the room. Cracked stone walls supported wooden beams that looked like they had been scavenged from different buildings. Everything felt like it was pieced together with care, though nothing matched. This wasn't just a ruin — someone lived here.
Then his gaze locked onto her.
A girl, no older than twelve, sat with surprising calm against the wall, one knee drawn up, arms resting over it. Her short brown hair framed a young face that was both stern and sharp, her piercing green eyes watching him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. She looked too composed for someone her age — like she had seen far too much for someone so young.
"Cordelia?" Adrian blinked in confusion. "You're in my house?"
The girl raised an eyebrow, lips twitching with the hint of a smirk.
"Actually," she replied coolly, "you're in mine. I'm the one who dragged your unconscious body back here. You were lucky I found you before something else did."
Adrian's mind raced to catch up. He remembered the ambush. The skeletal knights. The overwhelming power that had torn through them like a divine storm. A light so bright it burned the shadows away… and then nothing.
"You... saved me?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.
She stood up and walked over to him, her bare feet silent on the floor. There was confidence in her steps — not arrogance, but certainty.
"I did. You're welcome, by the way," she said, stopping just a few feet from him. "I'm Cordelia. I used Divine Possession."
Adrian's breath caught in his throat.
"Then... you're an Heir?"
Cordelia nodded once, simply. There was no ceremony in her answer, no pride — just truth.
"Yes."
Adrian's shoulders sagged slightly, and he lowered his gaze.
"So… the inheritance that was hidden here… it's already been claimed?" His voice trembled, the weight of disappointment settling over him like a shroud.
Cordelia frowned slightly, tilting her head. "Inheritance? Is that why you came here? You were after the inheritance?"
Adrian hesitated. His fingers clenched around the edge of the couch. He could lie. He could deflect. But something about her presence — maybe the way she had saved him without asking for anything — made him want to be honest.
"Yes," he admitted after a moment. "My parents left behind a journal. Before they died, they wrote about an inheritance hidden in the ruins of this region. I found it... and came here the next day."
Cordelia's eyes widened in surprise. She took a step back, processing his words.
"You read a journal and ran out here alone the next day? Seriously?! Are you stupid?!"
Her voice echoed through the small room like a slap, loud and sharp.
Adrian looked down, but there was no shame in his eyes.
"I'm just an orphan," he said quietly but firmly. "Who was I supposed to turn to? The people at the orphanage? They wouldn't understand. And if I told them... they'd become targets. This kind of power doesn't protect you. It paints a mark on your back. I'd rather die chasing it alone than bring danger to the only place I can call home."
Cordelia stared at him, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but the words didn't come. She saw the steel behind his calm demeanor — a determination carved out of grief and solitude.
"...Idiot," she muttered, her voice barely audible.
"Huh?" Adrian glanced at her.
"I didn't say anything!" she snapped quickly, turning her head away to hide her expression.
A beat of silence passed before Cordelia stepped forward again, this time with purpose. She extended her hand.
"Let's make a deal," she said, her voice steady.
Adrian blinked, taken aback. "A deal?"
"Yeah. I don't think the inheritance I awakened is the same one your parents wrote about. There are lots of places like this — some abandoned, some sealed. If yours is tied to something specific, it might still be out there. I'll help you find it… if you help me look for my parents."
She held her hand between them, palm open, eyes unwavering.
Adrian stared at it for a moment. His heart was pounding, not from fear, but from something else — the feeling of being understood. Of being offered help not out of pity, but shared purpose.
He smiled faintly and reached out.
"Deal."
Their hands met and gripped tightly, sealing a promise.
Cordelia nodded once, then turned back toward her small sleeping area — just a pile of blankets and an old backpack in the corner.
"Get some sleep," she said without turning around. "We head out at dawn. I've seen other ruins. The kind people avoid. That's where we'll start."
Adrian eased himself back onto the couch. It creaked under his weight, but it was warm, and he felt safe. His body still ached, but the pain was a reminder — of survival, of purpose.
He glanced at Cordelia one last time. She was sitting cross-legged now, examining a small, chipped compass in her hands.
"Hey," he said softly.
She looked up, eyes meeting his.
"Thank you."
Her lips twitched again, and she looked away quickly. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't die again. You're heavy."
Adrian chuckled quietly and closed his eyes.
Dad… Mom… I'm getting closer. Closer to the truth. Closer to you. And maybe… I'm not alone anymore.
The wind whispered outside the cracks of the shelter, but inside, all was still. And as sleep pulled him into its embrace, the world outside began to shift — slowly, but surely revealing what had long been hidden.
---