Chapter 4: Secrets in the Study
After father left for a meeting and Yusha arrived home, he paced back and forth in his room, thoughts swirling like a storm. His mind was still heavy from his conversation with his mother earlier. The book. The mysterious book his father kept hidden from view. It had gnawed at him since the moment he first laid eyes on it. What secrets did it hold? Why did his father keep it so protected?
His fingers itched with curiosity. The ancient tome was calling to him, and for the first time, Yusha felt an undeniable urge to uncover its secrets. But there was a problem—his father always kept a tight eye on his study. There was no way to get inside without being noticed.
Except, of course, Yusha had his way.
Closing his eyes, he focused on the familiar feeling inside of him—the power that had been with him since his past life, the one that he kept hidden from everyone. A power to bend space and time, a power he had learned to control over the years. His ability to open gates, mirrors into other spaces, was something few could understand. But Yusha had mastered it.
He stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath, then extended his hand toward the large, ornate mirror on the far wall of his room. The glass shimmered slightly, a faint crackling sound filling the air. Slowly, the mirror rippled, like the surface of water disturbed by a pebble. A deformed mirror began to form—twin gates, each reflecting the opposite side of the mansion. Yusha could see the dark wooden floor of his father's study through one of them, and the faint gleam of the bookcase where the ancient book was stored.
The mirror was no longer just a reflective surface—it was a doorway.
Yusha stepped through the gate without hesitation, the cool air of his room replaced by the familiar, musty scent of the study. His feet landed softly on the polished wood floor of the study, the room dimly lit by the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. His heart raced. He was here.
The book was just where he remembered it—sitting on the high shelf, slightly out of reach. Yusha's eyes quickly scanned the room to make sure no one was there. He couldn't afford to be caught. His father was away, but his mother was always aware, and that's something he couldn't risk.
The book was ancient. Its leather cover was cracked, with faded designs etched into its surface. Yusha had tried to read it once before, but his father had caught him and quickly removed it from his sight. Now, with the room empty and quiet, it was his chance. His fingers trembled as he reached for it.
When his hands touched the book, an unusual sensation prickled through him—something strange, foreign. He hesitated, a moment of doubt creeping in. But his curiosity pushed him forward. He pulled the book off the shelf and opened the first page.
It was written in an unknown language. The characters were foreign, unlike anything he had ever seen. His eyes traced the symbols, trying to decipher their meaning. The writing flowed in a manner that felt ancient—too ancient to be from any language he knew. The letters seemed to shimmer and shift as he looked at them, almost as though they were alive.
"What is this?" Yusha whispered to himself, furrowing his brow in confusion. The symbols didn't make sense, but there was something familiar about them. It felt... old. The kind of ancient knowledge that should have been lost to time. The book spoke of powers, abilities—what the world had always referred to as Atributes. He skimmed through the pages, each one more bizarre than the last. The drawings on the pages depicted people with strange powers, abilities that surpassed the normal elemental gifts.
He was so absorbed in the book that he didn't notice the figure standing in the doorway.
"Yusha."
The voice was soft but firm, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly snapped the book shut, turning to face his mother.
Lady Haejin stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable. Her sharp eyes studied him, the corners of her lips twitching into a faint smile. She hadn't made a sound when she entered, not until now. Yusha realized with a jolt that she had been watching him for some time.
"How long have you been here?" Yusha asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Long enough," Haejin replied, her tone steady. "What are you doing with that book?"
Yusha felt his cheeks flush. "I... I just wanted to know what it was. It's unlike anything I've ever seen before."
Haejin sighed softly and crossed the room, taking the book from his hands with surprising gentleness. She placed it back on the shelf where it belonged, a small frown creasing her brow.
"Yusha," she began, her voice much softer now, "There are things in this book that you're not ready to understand."
"I just—" Yusha started, but his mother held up a hand, silencing him.
"I know you're curious," she said. "But some things need time. This book contains knowledge that has been passed down for generations. Your father has kept it hidden for a reason. You'll understand when the time is right."
Yusha stared at the shelf, his mind racing with questions. "But why can't I know now?"
"Because," Haejin said quietly, "the truth is something that requires more than just curiosity. It requires readiness. And you're probably not ready yet."
Yusha's frustration grew, but before he could speak again, his mother's tone shifted, becoming more serious.
"You have your own power, Yusha," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't forget that."
His heart skipped a beat. He knew his mother could see through him like no one else, but hearing her say it like that made the weight of his powers feel even heavier.
"You're not the only one with a gift in this family," she continued, her voice carrying an almost unspoken warning. "I have my own abilities too. You've seen me do things that no one else can, haven't you?"
Yusha's eyes widened as the memories flashed in his mind. He had seen his mother move things with just a glance—objects lifting from the ground, shifting around without a touch. It was as if she could control her environment, sense every little movement around her, and bend it to her will.
"I can manipulate the world around me," Haejin explained, her gaze steady. "I'm aware of every little change, every movement. Even the smallest shift in the air doesn't escape me. And when I focus, I can move things without touching them."
Yusha felt a shiver run down his spine. His mother's power was formidable—one that could turn the tide of any battle, should it ever come to that. And yet, she had always been so calm, so collected. It was a quiet strength, hidden beneath the surface.
"Remember," she said, her voice softening again, "we all have our roles to play. Yours is not to rush into things before you understand them. Be patient."
Yusha nodded, his mind still buzzing with everything he had learned and experienced in such a short time.
"You should go," Haejin said, motioning toward the door. "Your father will be back soon, and I don't think he would appreciate you snooping around in his study."
Yusha hesitated for a moment, then nodded and turned toward the door. As he stepped back through the mirror gate, he couldn't shake the feeling that there were things he wasn't yet meant to know, and that the answers were just beyond his reach.