Bainin
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Chapter 10: Adjustment
🕑 Added 2025-03-20 08:28:25 +0000 UTCWhen Mr. Seitz entered the room, Asterion could tell he was scanning him—both with his eyes and his other senses. A mild breeze moved from his teacher, expanding outward until it enveloped the entire room and everyone in it.
Asterion observed the near-invisible streams of air weaving through the space, brushing against everything in their path. He was certain he wouldn’t have noticed them—let alone seen them—using only his eyes or magical senses.
"I thought so," Mr. Seitz said as he pulled a chair closer and sat on the other side of the bed.
His parents exchanged a glance before his father spoke, his tone measured but firm. "What do you mean by that, Master Seitz?"
"Apologies, I was being rude," Seitz said. "Your son will be fine—he just needs time to adjust."
Asterion felt his parents let out a quiet breath of relief at his words.
Mr. Seitz then turned to him. "You experienced a rather violent physical manifestation in response to your awakening. They’re rare, but they do happen on occasion."
"What happened to me?" Asterion asked, still not entirely sure why or how his perception had changed so drastically.
Asterion watched his teacher stroke his beard again, a habit he had seen many times before.
"My educated guess is that whatever power you awakened is perception-based and temporarily overwhelmed your senses—or, more specifically, your brain. This, in turn, forced your body to compensate with a physical manifestation aligned to your immediate needs.”
"I can see everything around me," Asterion murmured, his voice uncertain. "I can even see the lady waiting in our kitchen… It's confusing. I see multiple things at once. When I open my eyes, it gets even worse."
Mr. Seitz frowned, a thoughtful hum escaping him while his parents watched with bated breath.
"From what your father told me and what the healers said about your injuries, I am quite certain that your physical manifestation targeted your brain to help you control your new powers."
His mother shifted anxiously. "Have you dealt with something like this before, Sir Seitz?"
Mr. Seitz shook his head. "While there is some overlap with powers and how they manifest, in the end, everyone’s power is unique to them. I’ve read of similar cases, but I have not encountered this personally before." His eyes flicked to Asterion, his expression knowing. "But I think your son already understands what kind of power he has."
"It’s a space power," Asterion admitted quietly, gripping the bedsheets. "I can sense the space all around me."
Mr. Seitz gave a small nod. "I think so too. Keeping your eyes closed for now is a good idea. I recommend you start slow—begin with walking and regaining your balance."
After a short pause, he added, "Also, do not try to brave the stairs without help out of eagerness. Are we understood?"
Asterion nodded, then turned to his parents. He had expected excitement from them, but all he sensed was relief—etched into their faces, woven into their auras.
His mother leaned in, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace, the tension in her body easing as her warmth enveloped him. He returned the hug with unsteady movements, still adjusting to his body’s unfamiliar rhythm.
"Again, it is rare, but sometimes a power is too difficult and intrusive at first," Mr. Seitz began, his tone measured. "Try to restrict it to what you’re used to, if possible, and expand it from there. I myself awakened with a perception-based power not too dissimilar from yours, though mine was nowhere near as intrusive to my senses. What you need most is practice—controlling your new power will be your homework until you can return to class."
Asterion’s stomach dropped briefly at the thought of missing lessons.
"I don’t want to miss class. I can sit in and just listen," he argued.
Mr. Seitz shook his head. "You already missed a day, but don’t worry. Until your return, I’ll keep the class focused on comprehending their powers and essencias through self-study. There’s years' worth of material for most of them, so you don’t need to rush yourself."
His words hit him hard, and he opened his eyes. The disorientation returned instantly, but he did his best to shut down and restrict his powers—something he wasn’t used to. His gravity power had always required him to actively use it, not suppress it.
It took him a moment, but eventually, he managed to look at his parents. Both had bags under their eyes, exhaustion clear in their faces, and guilt tugged at him as he took them in. It took considerable focus to limit his new perception like this, but it was closer to what he was familiar with.
"I am okay," he said, trying to reassure them just as much as himself. While he was worried, he also instinctively knew this was part of who he was and always would be, and he wouldn’t tolerate being bedbound for long.
Before he could try pushing himself out of bed, Mr. Seitz reached into his ring and pulled out a book; the motion and the magic involved nearly sent Asterion spiraling again. Asterion stared in stunned fascination as the magic unfolded before him—real space bending, splitting open into another dimension or a different space. He watched as the book emerged from that separate plane, and then, just as quickly, the rift sealed itself, disconnecting from real space as if it had never existed.
"What the fuck," Asterion gasped.
"Language!" his mother snapped.
His father only laughed, while Mr. Seitz cracked a smile and held out the book titled The Principles of Real and Folded Space.
"I think this will greatly help fill some gaps in your knowledge."
Asterion reached out to take it, his movements still sluggish and uncoordinated. As his fingers wrapped around the cover, he felt the weight of it—not just physically, but in what it represented. His teacher watched him closely, an appraising look in his eyes, before stepping back as if satisfied.
"I will come check in on him if that is agreeable to you?" Mr. Seitz asked his parents.
They quickly recovered and nodded.
"Thank you, Master Seitz. You are, of course, welcome to check on our son's well-being," his father replied.
Asterion wondered why his father kept calling him Master Seitz, though he found he couldn’t muster the energy to ask.
Instead, he closed his eyes again, gripping the book to his chest as he leaned back into the bed.
Even with his eyes shut, he observed how his teacher left the house, accompanied by his father. His mother remained at his side, her hand resting gently on his knee. While he was glad for her presence, guilt gnawed at him—she had to be exhausted.
"Mom, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. Go rest," he said, lifting the book slightly. "I’ll keep myself busy trying to read this."
There was a short pause before she got up, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and ruffling his hair—to his displeasure. He pulled his head back in resistance, earning a small smile from her.
"Call if you need anything."
He wanted to say he wouldn’t, but thought better of it.
"I will," he murmured.
He watched her leave before doing his best to limit his senses to his room. Surprisingly, this time, it was easier than he had expected.
Perhaps because it’s a contained or defined space? he mused.
Either way, it was much less strenuous, and he had no desire to gain a reputation for being nosy.
He flipped open the cover to the first page, but to his annoyance, while he could tell there was writing, his new spatial sense wasn’t sharp enough to make out the words. Frustrated, he was forced to open his eyes, immediately feeling the strain creep back in.
Despite the strain, Asterion had a hard time putting the book down. Each page unraveled new insights, stirring something deep within him. He only set the tome aside when the strain became unbearable. By the time he finished it, three days had passed. Another two before he read through it a second time, his understanding growing with each pass.
It took a week before he could walk and navigate the house without bumping into things. Another two before the world stopped feeling like a constant assault on his senses. Slowly, instinct took over—he learned to filter out unnecessary information, to focus only on what mattered.
By the end of the month, he no longer felt burdened by his power. Instead, he started to see the advantages. He could sense his mother approaching long before she entered the room, notice movements behind walls, and anticipate footsteps before hearing them. His reaction time wasn’t what it used to be, but it was improving.
He couldn’t wait to see how this ability would fare in combat.
Most of all, he couldn’t wait to see his friends again. Theos, and even Zena, Anysia, and his other classmates, had come to check on him. Lucia had even tried to heal him but stopped in embarrassment when she realized there was nothing to heal.
Theos was his most frequent visitor, lamenting the fact that they couldn’t spar anymore. Alistair, however, reassured him that he would spar with him as soon as he could.
It was a full month before Mr. Seitz finally allowed him to return to class.
Asterion hadn’t slept well—he was too excited to finally get back to class and sparring. At least this time, it was excitement keeping him awake rather than his power. In the beginning, sleep had been nearly impossible. The constant flood of sensations, the awareness of every movement around him, and the sheer effort of trying to suppress it had made rest a struggle. But over time, he had learned to manage it, to filter out the unnecessary, and now he could finally function without his power overwhelming him.
A lot had happened in his absence. By now, everyone in his class had apparently awakened their powers, with Alexius being the last, having his awakening the day before.
Mr. Seitz and Theos had kept him mostly up to date, though neither had shared the exact nature of the others' awakenings. Asterion understood—it wasn’t polite to reveal someone else’s power without their permission. And besides the few who had visited him and dared to ask, none of his classmates knew what his new power was or why exactly he had been absent for so long.
Now, after Mr. Seitz’s visit last evening, he was finally allowed to return.
Asterion no longer struggled with putting on clothes, having used it as a way to practice moving and balancing his body. Still, he took his time with the stairs—falling now would almost certainly make his mother insist on keeping him home even longer. Even though he felt confident in his footing, it wasn’t worth the risk.
If his mother noticed his slower approach, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she simply smiled as she set a platter of cheese and meats on the table.
"Good morning."
"Morning, Mom," he replied, taking a seat and cutting a slice of bread before layering it with his usual spread of meat and cheese.
"I already made you a sandwich for your break," she said, placing a neatly wrapped bundle beside him.
"Thanks, Mom," he said, slipping it into the bag slung over his shoulder.
He ate quietly, waiting for her to speak, but she simply sat down and joined him. Her eyes met his, conveying more than words could. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, and she returned it before turning her attention back to her food.
When he finished and made to go, he looked over his shoulder, unsure how to handle the overly quiet interaction, but his mother just smiled, her eyes softening at his hesitation.
"Go on, before I decide to keep you home another day." His mother said playfully, and he didn’t need to be told twice as he hurried for the door.
“See you later, Mom!”
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