The hallway leading to the preparation chamber felt longer than it probably was, each footstep echoing off stone walls that had witnessed more than a century of village history. Aeon walked steadily between his guards, his bandaged hands clasped behind his back, while his mind processed what had just occurred in the Assembly Hall.
Four months.
It wasn't ideal, but it was infinitely better than execution. The elders had shown him a form of mercy—calculated and conditional, but mercy nonetheless. He found himself grudgingly grateful for their pragmatism. They could have simply eliminated the threat he represented, but instead they had chosen to manage it. That suggested a level of sophistication that boded well for his short-term survival.
Now I just need to make sure I can handle long-term survival.
The mana oath would bind him to secrecy, but it wouldn't prepare him for what waited outside Millhaven's protection. He had escaped one form of slavery only to discover that the wider world was filled with dangers he barely understood. Four months wasn't long, but it might be enough to gather the information and skills he would need to navigate whatever came next.
First priority: learn about the outside world.
Who controlled the regions beyond this hidden valley? What major powers existed that he should avoid or potentially seek alliance with? Where could someone with his... unique circumstances find safety or at least temporary sanctuary? The village's isolation meant they would have limited knowledge of current events, but their annual trade caravans suggested some level of contact with external markets and politics.
Second priority: understand my own capabilities.
The infinity attribute was growing stronger as he healed, but he still didn't know its limits or full potential. Four months of relative safety would give him time to experiment without the immediate pressure of life-or-death situations. If he was going to survive as a free person rather than property, he needed to understand exactly what weapons he possessed.
Third priority: gather resources.
Money, equipment, knowledge of safe travel routes—anything that would help him establish himself once he was exiled. The elders had granted him protection and meals, but they hadn't mentioned any compensation for his eventual departure. He would need to find ways to earn or acquire whatever would help him survive the transition back to the hostile world beyond.
Captain Henrik paused before a heavy wooden door marked with carved symbols that seemed to shift and writhe when viewed directly. "The preparation chamber," he announced. "The elders will arrive momentarily to begin the oath ceremony."
The room beyond was smaller than the Assembly Hall but no less impressive. Circular in design, with smooth stone walls that curved up to meet in a domed ceiling, it felt like standing inside a perfect sphere that had been cut in half. At the center of the space sat a pedestal supporting what appeared to be a crystal orb the size of a human head, its surface swirling with internal light that pulsed in rhythm with some unseen heartbeat.
"Stand before the orb," Henrik instructed. "Place your hands on its surface when directed, and do not remove them until the ceremony is complete. Attempting to break the connection prematurely could result in severe damage to your attribute."
Aeon nodded his understanding and took his position, studying the artifact with professional interest. The crystal was clearly magical, but its purpose and capabilities were beyond his current knowledge. Another gap in his education that he would need to address during his time here.
The three elders entered the chamber in single file, their footsteps making no sound against the stone floor. Each carried a scroll bound with ribbons of different colors—blue for Elder Miriam, green for Elder Marcus, red for the gaunt Elder Dorian. They arranged themselves around the pedestal at equal intervals, forming a triangle with Aeon and the orb at its center.
"Place your hands on the crystal," Elder Miriam commanded.
The orb's surface was warm to the touch, and the moment his palms made contact, Aeon felt a surge of energy that seemed to flow both into and out of his body simultaneously. The infinity attribute responded immediately, recognizing the presence of another form of power and preparing to analyze or potentially counter it.
Don't resist, he told himself. This is necessary for survival.
Elder Marcus was the first to act, tearing his green scroll with a sharp motion that released a burst of emerald energy. The power flowed toward the crystal, wrapping around Aeon's hands and arms like living vines before sinking into his skin. He felt something fundamental shift in his consciousness—not painful, but alien and uncomfortable.
Elder Dorian followed, his red scroll disintegrating into crimson flames that burned without heat. The energy merged with the green, creating complex patterns that seemed to write themselves directly onto his soul. More changes, deeper this time, touching parts of his awareness that he hadn't known existed.
Finally, Elder Miriam tore her blue scroll, releasing a cascade of sapphire light that completed whatever working they were performing. The combined energies swirled around the crystal and through Aeon's body, carrying with them a weight of binding that settled into his very core.
And then, as if the knowledge had always been there, the conditions of his oath crystallized in his mind with perfect clarity:
You will not reveal the location of Millhaven to any person, entity, or intelligence outside this community.
You will not describe the village's defenses, population, capabilities, or weaknesses to any external party.
You will not guide others to this place, either directly or through shared information that could lead to its discovery.
You will not act in any way that deliberately endangers the security or secrecy of this community.
These bindings are written into your attribute itself. Violation will result in the immediate destruction of your magical abilities and the alerting of all oath-holders to your betrayal.
The weight of the magic pressed against his consciousness, waiting for his acceptance. Aeon could feel the power of the three elders holding the working in place, ready to either complete the binding or dissolve it depending on his choice.
There was no real choice, of course. This was survival, pure and simple.
I accept, he thought, and felt the magic surge through him one final time before settling into place like a second skin.
The crystal's light faded, and the elders stepped back from the pedestal. The ceremony was complete.
"It is done," Elder Miriam announced. "You are bound to our community's protection, and we are bound to yours for the next four months. Captain Henrik will escort you to your quarters and explain the terms of your residence."
As Aeon removed his hands from the now-dormant crystal, he tested the edges of the oath with careful mental probes. The binding was thorough but not absolute—he could still think about the village, still remember what he had seen, but any attempt to share that information with outsiders would trigger immediate consequences.
Cleverly designed, he admitted. They've protected themselves without completely crippling my ability to function.
Four months to learn, to grow stronger, to prepare for whatever came next. The clock was already ticking, but for the first time since awakening in this world, Aeon felt like he had been given something approaching a fair chance.
Now he just had to make the most of it.