An Elegy For The Soul

Chapter Seven

When Grief Turns To Stone

Deep in Burnell Academy's forest lay a secret Lucan visited whenever the melancholy conveyed in his father's correspondence gnawed at his peace of mind. Their relationship was strained, marked by unspoken tensions. Always, his father would write, and Lucan would read every missing word.

When those words closed in on him, consuming his every waking thought, open space became his greatest solace. Only vast swaths of land could drown out the echoes of his father's indifference. Out here, there were no walls to trap the words from those letters and hurl them back at him. Here, in the woods, on the soft earth, with the white mist swirling around his legs, Lucan found respite.

Fathers were complicated. He couldn't fathom why this was the case, but the undeniable truth of it strangled any glimmer of hope for mutual understanding between the two of them. Barret Thurst desired nothing from his son, often leaving Lucan to beg for even the smallest morsel of recognition. Despite his exceptional academic achievements, Lucan's efforts had yet to breach the fortress of Barret's indifference.

Their relationship hung precariously on the brink of irreparable collapse.

What more could a person possibly do to earn affection? There were no more accolades to attain or grades to surpass. Even publications in esteemed journals were met with disinterest, relegated to nothing more than kindling for their hearth.

His enthusiastic attempts to share groundbreaking discoveries were met with dismissive grunts. The only time his father paid him mind was when Lucan dared to venture into his mother's old study, an action that unfailingly jolted his father from his perpetual state of apathy into fits of rage.

Lucan exhausted every avenue that might have earned him recognition as a dutiful son, yet Barret remained steadfast in his disconnect. Because of this, Lucan now clung to the possibility of gaining acceptance under Terasaki's study, yearning to shape the future of humanity.

Even though what he truly desired was to reshape the past.

So many mysteries enshrouded the soul, harboring untapped power awaiting his discovery. If Lucan could unravel these enigmas, transforming mysticism into tangible truth, if he could find a means to heal souls from their ethereal afflictions, would it alter the dynamic between him and his father? 

Could mending his father's heartache also mend the fracture that tragedy had etched into Barret's own soul? Might Lucan's alchemy be the salvation his mother, the very source of his family's anguish, so desperately needed?

It had to. Success wasn't optional; it was imperative.

Lucan trekked deeper into the woods.

The secret of the woods lay tucked away, off the beaten path, veiled by the haunting shroud of all things forgotten—time, the only thing that could never forget.

Time left her mark where others did not. Nestled amidst abandoned relics, time flourished in the void, feeding on decay, and beckoning the undone. She was the true omnipotent force of the universe.

He ventured through the embrace of dense branches cloaked in thick moss, their interweaving limbs forming a cage-like barrier around a glade strewn with time's remnants. Stone ruins crumbled away, reverting to their former selves, before the hands of man had altered their destiny.

As early morning mist draped over the uneven terrain, Lucan strode through it, moisture gathering on his leather boots with each step. He steadied himself on scattered stones whenever his heel caught in a small divot etched into the ground, palms bearing minor scrapes from navigating the rugged landscape—pittance of a sacrifice to meet his aim.