Chapter 5: Avalon Ravenstein

Avalon Ravenstein, a demon on the battlefield, returned from the battlefield in his sleek hover car. As he stepped out, his presence commanded attention, his tall and imposing figure radiated the power of a grandmaster rank. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, Avalon embodied elegance and refinement. His strong jawline and piercing eyes conveyed determination, while his neatly styled white hair added a touch of suave to his overall appearance. He looked up to see his butler standing tall and proud, a figure of strength and wisdom. The butler, Boman, an old war veteran with a face weathered by years of experience, exuded an aura of resilience, also showcasing his grandmaster rank. His eyes, filled with a deep understanding of the horrors of war. With a respectful bow, Boman greeted Avalon, his voice carrying the weight of countless battles fought and won. "Welcome home, Master Avalon" he said, his words laced with a sense of admiration. "It is good to see you return safely." Avalon, a bit impatient to see his son and wife, "Thank you, Boman," he replied, using the butler's name with familiarity and respect. Boman had been with the Ravenstein family since he was little. "It's good to be back. Where are they?" Avalon asked. Boman smiled clearly expecting the question. "They're in young master's room, sir" he replied respectfully. Avalon smiled, then he started walking briskly into the mansion. Before he left, he and Anastasia had decided a room for their new born. After one long year of being away, Avalon's heart swelled with anticipation as he made his way towards his wife and their precious seven-month-old son. The doors swung open, revealing the opulence within. Avalon's footsteps echoed through the marble foyer as he strode towards the room where his newborn should be with his lovely wife. The air was filled with a mixture of nervous anticipation and unspoken joy. Entering the room, Avalon's eyes immediately sought out the small bundle of life nestled in his wife Anastasia's arms. His strong presence softened as he approached them, his battle-hardened exterior giving way to tenderness. Gently, Avalon kissed his wife on her forehead and muttered a gentle "Sorry, I'm late" in her ears. He reached out to take his son into his arms. As he cradled his son against his chest, a surge of warmth coursed through Avalon's fingertips. "What name did you choose?" Avalon asked his wife. "Atticus. Atticus Ravenstein" Anastasia replied with a smile, happy seeing her husband finally back home in one piece. Although she had communicated with him a lot, it was still better to see him in person. n).0velb1n "Atticus" he muttered. "It's a powerful name. I love it!" Avalon exclaimed, happy with the name his wife chose. She had refused to tell him, asking him to come home first. 'I wonder,' Avalon thought. He then tried to sneakily check how Atticus would react to mana. The better a child responded to mana, the higher their talent. This way of checking how talented a child was wasn't completely accurate, but it would give an estimation of the child's talent. He closed his eyes and focused his mana, delicately probing the depths of Atticus' being. A vibrant aura enveloped Atticus, creating an ethereal connection between them. Like a gentle breeze, the warmth of the mana permeated Atticus' body, spreading through his veins and pulsating with a soothing energy. Atticus, initially taken aback by the sensation, soon found himself surrendering to the enchanting warmth. He could sense the energy traversing his body, its magical essence intertwining with his own essence. The sensation of the mana moving all around Atticus was both exhilarating and comforting. It was as if the very fabric of his existence was being gently caressed by the mystical energy, leaving no stone unturned. 'Wh-what is this sensation!' Atticus exclaimed inwardly. He heard his father had finally arrived and was looking forward to meeting him. He was initially taken aback by Avalon's strong presence, but he relaxed when his expression softened. He was a little confused when he saw Avalon closing his eyes, not expected this to happen. 'Is this magic!? Please say yes!' He hoped whatever Avalon was doing was magic. Anastasia who noticed Avalon suddenly hit him on the back of his head breaking his concentration. "Honey, what the hell are you doing?" said Anastasia, her face contorts into an angry smile. Avalon who noticed this, suddenly becomes visibly nervous. He was feared on the battlefield, but he knows he's nothing compared to when his wife got angry. She's the embodiment of evil, a devil. A beautiful devil. "Sorry, Anna. I got carried away. I only wanted to check his potential," said Avalon, meekly. If people outside got word that Avalon Ravenstein, the Inferno Warlord, was speaking like this, they would deny it with everything they had. "He's still too young, honey. He'll go through his awakening when he grows up, just like every other children" replied Anastasia. She grabbed Atticus and placed him gently in his bed. "We should let him rest, I think he's had enough for today." Anastasia said while giving Atticus a kiss on his forehead. "Alright Anna." Avalon also gave Atticus a kiss on his forehead. They left the room, leaving a bewildered Atticus to ponder what he just discovered. In the dead of the night, the moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow through Atticus' bedroom window. As the world around him slumbered, Atticus, slowly stirred from his sleep. A deep yearning to explore the realms of magic had awakened him. 'That had to be magic!' he thought inwardly. 'Hmmm, how do I go about this. I didn't hear him say anything before he used it' Atticus pondered. 'Maybe it's something internal?' he reasoned. 'I guess it won't hurt to try'. He decided. Atticus suddenly closed his eyes in deep concentration. With every breath, he inhales deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs, swirling and dancing within him. He exhales slowly, releasing any distractions or doubts that threaten to disrupt his focus. His mind becomes a canvas, blank and receptive, ready to be painted with vibrant colors. After a few minutes without any changes, Atticus opened his eyes, frustration written all over his face. 'What am I doing wrong?' he asked himself. 'If it's not internal, then it's from the air? Yeah, lets try that' he surmised. With a heart full of determination, he closed his eyes and took deep breaths, allowing the air to fill his lungs. With each inhale, he imagined the air carrying traces of the energy Avalon used, swirling and dancing within him. It was easy because he could remember how the energy felt. Atticus soon discovered that the air held the key to understanding the energy he felt, he could sense traces of the energy in the air. He delved deeper into this practice, learning to control the flow of his breath and directing it to different parts of his body. With each breath, he visualized the energy, coursing through his veins like a river of energy. As the days turned into weeks and then months, Atticus connection with the energy grew stronger. He could feel the subtle shifts in the wind, sensing the presence of the energy in the surrounding environment. Atticus's journey was not without challenges. There were times when he wouldn't be given the chance to focus. He only had a few hours at night after Anastasia went to bed before his tiny body begs him to sleep. But he persevered. After 3 months of his unwavering determination, Atticus slowly began to feel the energy within him. He could feel the energy entering his body and going to tiny core in his navel. Though small, he could feel it held the potential to unlock unimaginable abilities. As he delves deeper into his meditation, he begins to feel a subtle tingling sensation, like tiny electric sparks dancing beneath his skin. It started at the base of his spine, slowly ascending, as though awakening dormant energy centers within him. He visualizes this sensation as a glowing ball of light, growing brighter and more vibrant with each passing moment then a jolt of pain suddenly breaks his concentration and he came face to face with Anastasia, looking extremely concerned. A\n: Hi. This is my first attempt at writing and I need reviews to grow. Please, drop some! And also add to your library if you like this book. Thank you. Enigmatic forces at play. 'It's been three days. I guess it's about time I accept my situation.' Atticus thought, his realization accompanied by a gentle poke on his cheek from a blonde woman. "Boo-wa," Atticus responded, hoping his simple utterance would discourage further attention. 'They're really persistent,' Atticus observed, feeling slightly exasperated by the attention he was receiving. Amidst the interactions, Atticus couldn't help but form impressions of the people around him. 'New mother, Anastasia. She seems happy,' he noted as his gaze shifted to the blonde woman. "Look, Ayra, he grabbed my finger," Anastasia exclaimed, her joy evident "Yes, my lady." replied Arya, while giving Atticus a warm smile. She was Anastasia's Ravenblade, her bodyguard. "Here, Atticus! Grab mama's finger." Anastasia exclaimed excitedly. 'She's beautiful.' Atticus gave a little smile and reached out for her finger. "Yes! Grab it!" Anastasia, excited to see Atticus grabbing her finger again. 'Damn, this is tiring.' Atticus wondered why he felt so tired when he didn't really do anything. 'I suppose this is how a baby feels. No wonder all they do is poop, eat, and sleep,' Atticus mused. 'I'm glad they're at least speaking English,' he added with a sense of relief. 'I won't have to learn a language from scratch.' "My lady, it looks like young master is tired," Arya noticed Atticus's wearied expression. "Yeah, you're right, Arya," replied Anastasia, a hint of disappointment in her voice as she realized they should let him rest. She carefully covered Atticus with a snug blanket and quietly left him to enjoy his sleep. 'I'm left to my thoughts now,' Atticus realized, feeling a mix of emotions. Atticus couldn't help but contemplate about his premature death and the subsequent rebirth. As Atticus pondered his own death, he couldn't help but question why he had been killed. The man's last words, "Entertain us," echoed in his mind, leaving him baffled. 'Entertain him!? Go to a fucking circus if you want entertainment!' he thought bitterly, his thoughts a maelstrom of confusion and anger. After a brief pause, a surge of rationality prevailed. 'Calm down, Atticus. There's nothing you can do about it now.' Taking cute measured breaths, he continued his thoughts. 'There must be a reason for my reincarnation. Is this new world a play ground or something?' Atticus had always been a logical person. He never considered himself to be someone so exceptional that he would merit being singled out for reincarnation. 'I'll figure that out eventually. For now, there's only one way forward—living,' he resolved. Concern for his mother, crept into his thoughts. 'I hope mom will be alright,' he reflected, a pang of worry threading through his emotions. 'No matter how long it takes, I will make you regret this,' determination fueled Atticus's promise to hunt down his killer and make him pay. Atticus was driven by a strong sense of vengeance, ensuring that he reciprocates any actions directed towards him. Even though Kira had shattered his heart with her actions, Atticus wasn't the type to let her betrayal shape his interactions with others or dictate how he would move forward in life. He had always followed one mantra throughout his life: An eye for an eye. After what he did to her, the matter was basically forgotten. 'For now, this is my new reality and I'll make the most of it,' Atticus declared, determination igniting his spirit. 'I'll ensure I make him regret doing this to me.' He added. As sleep overtook him, Atticus's last thoughts were filled with determination to seek revenge. Six months passed since Atticus was born, his life has been closely monitored and observed with unwavering vigilance by Anastasia or Arya. Life as an infant was hard on Atticus. He couldn't move much nor talk, basically, there was nothing to do but eat, sleep and poop. 'This would have been the life if not for this accursed woman' he thought. "Come here, my little At!" Anastasia's excited voice resonated. They were currently in a lavish room filled with toys and playthings. Every single inch of the room was padded, and the floor was covered with a soft material. Anastasia had spared no effort to ensure that Atticus had a very safe place to play in. "Bababa," Atticus cooed and gurgled in response, his communication limited to these innocent sounds. 'Being a child is tougher than I thought,' he contemplated as he tried to use his tiny baby hands to crawl towards Anastasia. Anastasia's attempts to engage him continued as she introduced a rattle for him to play with. "Look, Atticus! A fun rattle. Can you shake it too?" 'Oh no, not again,' Atticus sighed and responded by shaking the rattle, eliciting joy from Anastasia. "That's a good boy," she praised. "Good good, little At. Dada will be coming soon. Are you excited?" Anastasia asked Atticus while lifting him up tenderly. 'Hmm, a father? That's a new twist,' Atticus mused, contemplating the presence of a father figure in this life. n--o/(v.-e-/l(/b-)1)/n Atticus never met his dad back on earth. He ran away before he was born, but his mother had always been the only thing he needed so he didn't care. 'Well, let's see how this unfolds.' "Buaaaaw" "Oh, you're also excited little At. You want to see Dada?" 'Let's just ignore her and get some sleep. A father huh.' Atticus thought with a smile on his face before closing his eyes.