The shrine altar remained dim after the test. Dallion made several attempts to get back inside, to no avail. At one point he even tried to mend the shrine, hoping to trick it into letting him in, but was still unsuccessful. As far as the awakening shrine was concerned, he had become a persona non grata.

While some more explanations would have been nice, the experience had made Dallion reach certain conclusions. For one thing, the shrines were only the first steps to awakening. They provided a little help, even more hints and references, but few concrete specifics. It was like trying to operate a secondhand television set without a user manual.

It was tempting to assume that the village chief had hoarded the manual—or whatever the local equivalent was—to himself, but judging by the overall state of things, it was more likely that it had been lost ages ago. At some point in the past, the Order of the Seven Moons must have had a monastery here, aimed at helping the awakened in this part of the world. Something had made them abandon it. Dallion strongly suspected that the ogre battle in the area was more than a legend.

Awakened fighting giant mountains… The notion was scary as it was fantastic. It definitely was more than Dallion could handle right now.

“Thanks for all the help, Seven,” Dallion said up to the ceiling. “I promise to make good use of what you’ve taught me.” By kicking the village chief’s ass, he added in his mind.

Adjusting the dartbow under his clothes, Dallion left the cave. The stars were much brighter when he came out in the open. The single perception level that he had increased made him feel as if he’d entered a whole new world. Sadly, it also came with a strong dose of itchiness.

Stupid clothes, Dallion grumbled to himself. At his current level, improving them would be easy, though not recommended. He couldn’t risk running out of awakening potential, even if he now could improve five items per day. To think that initially he could only do that once per day... Looking back, Dallion couldn’t imagine how he had survived with such limitations.

The closer he got to the village, the more insistently his stomach rumbled. Going through two level ups, even if the first could hardly be called difficult, had left its toll. Dallion felt like he could eat an entire feast along with the table it was on. Hopefully, there would be some scraps waiting for him.

There was no one in the village streets when Dallion approached his house. All the people had returned to their homes, likely under the influence of the chief’s echoes. Dallion spent a while looking around just to be sure, then quietly sneaked into his house. The door had been left unbarred, eliminating the need for him to consider alternative means of entry. What was more, he found that the table had already been set up with food.

Sweet! Dallion sat down and started eating.

The food tasted better than ever. It was just lettuce soup, fresh bread, and baked potatoes, but to Dallion it felt like a feast. As he started eating, a door creaked open. Glancing over his shoulder he saw his mother at the doorway to his parent’s bedroom.

“Does it taste well?” the woman asked.

“Definitely.” Dallion smiled. “I really don’t know how you do it, mom.”

“It helps having high perception.” Dallion’s mother made her way to the table and sat across him.

Dallion blinked. This wasn’t a topic his mother spoke about often.

“It’s all right,” the woman smiled. “Even echoes have their limits. Maternal instincts have a way of convincing them to loosen their hold.” She took a piece of bread from the table. “Also, the village chief has a lot to feel guilty of.”

“What do you mean?”

“The things your grandfather told you… not all of them are true. I know you’ve suspected as much, but it isn’t his thought. There are things preventing him from helping you. Even the things he did came at a cost.”

“I know.” Dallion had already had the long talk with his grandfather. He would have continued it now, if the village chief hadn’t called all the elders to his mansion under a fake pretext.

“The story you heard about me losing my powers also wasn’t exactly true. It wasn’t a lie… not exactly, but there were things omitted that made it false.” The woman took a deep breath. “I didn’t get tricked into improving the ring. Rather, that wasn’t the only reason. When the chief learned of my skills, he immediately had grand plans of his own. Knowing how rare music skills are, he offered me to join his family by marrying his son. I refused. And that is when he made his second offer.”

Dallion couldn’t say a word, listening intently to every word his mother was saying. His mother was offered to marry into the Luor family? He hadn’t even considered the possibility. The entire notion seemed so medieval that was beyond comprehension.

“He took a metal ring and told me it was to be my wedding ring,” Dallion’s mother continued. “It was up to me to choose—either I put it on and have him turn it to bronze, or I could improve it myself and give it to anyone I wished. It was painfully obvious that it was a trap, but the echo made sure I didn’t see it. I was young and had just enough of pride and arrogance to think I could manage on my own.” The woman stopped, looking away from Dallion.

That bastard! The chief had offered her a choice between two impossible options. Either choice was bad, and ever so Dallion’s mother had been strong enough to choose the option she wanted. Ever since he could remember her, Dallion had seen her somewhat sad, but also happy. Or was she? If she hadn’t lost her awakened powers, it was a given she would have left the village. Dallion and Linner never would have been born…

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m proud of what you’ve achieved,” the woman smiled, looking back at her son. “I won’t tell you what you must and mustn’t do, but please follow your heart. Don’t get dragged down by others. Life is too wonderful to be bottled away for someone else’s sake.”

“I understand.”

His mother smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered. There was nothing left to add.