Tom's whisper was like a stone dropped into a still lake, sending ripples through Ares's heart. Completing the "Cornerstone of Trust" quest had brought more than rewards; it had subtly changed the atmosphere between them. The invisible wall between them was still tall and heavy, but it seemed to have opened a tiny window, allowing a faint thread of light and air to pass through.
Days went by, seasons turned, and the trees outside Wool's Orphanage went from green to yellow, then from yellow to bare. The clouds of war gathered over the European continent, but for this orphanage tucked away in a corner of London, the greatest war was still daily survival and the silent infighting within.
Yet for Ares and Tom, those five years, from 1932 to 1937, had not been entirely gray. Time was like a silent river, carrying them along and quietly shaping something solid amid their seemingly repetitive days.
[Five-Year Growth Montage Loading... (′▽`???) Please collect the important milestones, Host!]
Scene One: A Bridge of Knowledge
After that "secret sharing" incident, Tom's attitude toward Ares entered a new stage. He no longer merely observed and assessed him. He began to "use" him, within limits. At first, it was with words.
Tom discovered that Ares seemed extremely unfamiliar with reading and writing English. (Ares: After all, I'm fundamentally a Chinese speaker!) Meanwhile, Tom had long surpassed children his age in reading ability through eavesdropping on school lessons and teaching himself.
One day on the rooftop, Tom shoved a crumpled old primer of unknown origin into Ares's hands. His tone retained its usual aloofness, like he was bestowing charity. "If you can't even understand this, how will you help me figure out those 'things' later?"
Ares froze for a moment before taking the book. He understood that this was not simple kindness, but one of Tom's pragmatic investments—a fellow kind who was illiterate had limited value to him. Still, it was an opportunity.
[Host! (★ ω ★) The target is teaching you to read! His motives may be impure, but this is huge progress!]
Thus, their starlit rooftop lessons occasionally became literacy lessons. Tom was a demanding teacher—impatient and sharp-tongued—but with an adult's comprehension and the system's assistance, Ares learned quickly. Whenever he stumbled through a simple passage, a faint flicker of satisfaction would pass through Tom's eyes, so subtle that even Tom himself failed to notice it.
Literacy opened a door to a broader world of knowledge for them. Tom began finding more discarded books on occult studies, history, and even basic science at junkyards or in forgotten library corners. Like greedy sponges, the two secretly absorbed nourishment in places no one paid attention to. Ares was responsible for raising insightful questions far ahead of their time, while Tom relied on his genius-level understanding and logic to analyze and memorize them in depth.
Scene Two: Tempering Their Power
Their magic control practice continued as well. Combining the system's "Basic Magic Stabilization Technique" and "Magic Perception Enhancement" with his understanding of Runic script, Ares gradually guided Tom in ways he could accept.
They were no longer confined to the rooftop. Sometimes they practiced in a corner of the abandoned backyard, sometimes in the empty laundry room late at night. Ares demonstrated how to gather magic at one's fingertips to levitate a fallen leaf or send particular ripples across water. Tom learned exceptionally fast. The nature of his magic leaned more toward control and influence rather than Ares's soothing and resonant power. Soon, he surpassed his teacher. Not only could he control his own power steadily, he began attempting finer applications, such as making a lock tremble slightly from a distance or causing someone who had bullied him to trip for no apparent reason—more subtly, with almost no trace left behind.
Ares did not stop these small "acts of revenge." He knew they were part of Tom's release and need for control. He merely ensured they would not cause real trouble or make Tom be seen completely as a "monster." They developed an unspoken division of labor: Ares was the "shield" and the "mind," providing comfort, warnings, and strategy; Tom was the "spear" and the "hand," carrying out actions that required power and intimidation.
Scene Three: Facing Outsiders Together
As they grew older, the balance of power within the orphanage changed as well. Albert's group gradually left, but new troublemakers always emerged, seeking to challenge Tom's "position." However, they quickly discovered that dealing with Tom Riddell was no longer as easy as it had once been.
Once, several older newcomers tried to steal a thick book on pyramids that Tom had just obtained. Tom's eyes turned cold, and just as he was about to act, Ares stepped forward first. He did not use magic. Instead, with clear and calm logic, he laid out several pieces of leverage against them for breaking orphanage rules, such as secretly smoking and damaging public property. He added that if they did not leave at once, he would not mind "reminding" Mrs. Cole.
The boys went pale at his words. They had never expected that this quiet, even somewhat frail-looking boy with mismatched eyes had gathered so much information that could be used against them. In the end, they retreated sullenly.
Tom hugged the book and looked at Ares, his expression complicated. He was used to making people fear him with power. This was the first time someone had resolved a conflict for him using intelligence and information. He said nothing, but that night, he silently placed a rare fruit hard candy he had hidden beside Ares's pillow.
[(???) Received a candy offering from the future Dark Lord! Host's sense of achievement is overflowing!]
Scene Four: Silent Dependence
Year after year, they became a distinctive sight within the orphanage. Two equally exceptional and equally solitary boys, always together. They shared the books they found and their limited food. On cold winter nights, they even had no choice but to squeeze into the same bed for "warmth," using each other's body heat and the magic circulating within them to drive away the chill.
Tom still rarely showed his emotions, but Ares could sense that his initial mindset of pure exploitation had long since quietly changed. Whenever Ares occasionally fell ill with a fever due to his constitution, Tom would stay awake all night, clumsily trying to cool him down with his still-immature magic, his eyes unable to hide his anxiety. Whenever new children pointed and whispered about Ares's mismatched eyes and markings, one icy look from Tom was enough to make them fall silent.
They were each other's only piece of driftwood in a dark, boundless ocean, the only companion on a frozen island. This dependence and connection born amid despair had taken root more deeply than any glittering affection ever could.
Five years passed like water.
Ares had grown from a bedraggled child in the rain into a slender adolescent with increasingly delicate, beautiful features. The reddish-brown strands amid his platinum hair had become more pronounced, while the wisdom and compassion in his mismatched eyes had deepened day by day.
Tom had shed some of his childish contours, revealing the refined sharpness of a youth. His short hair was black as jade, his eyes deep and shadowed, and his beauty was almost unreal. At the same time, he had become more restrained and unfathomable.
They were still trapped in the mire, but because of each other's presence and their vague awareness of the magical world, their hearts had long since flown somewhere entirely different.
[Five-Year Montage Complete! (′▽`???) The bond level between Host and the target has greatly increased! Current status: Unbreakable Symbiosis.]
It was another evening. Ares and Tom sat side by side atop a pile of bricks in the abandoned backyard, reading an old book about stellar myths together. The lingering light of sunset stretched their shadows long.
Tom suddenly closed the book, lifted his head, and looked toward the southeastern sky, in the direction of central London. His eyes no longer held a child's confusion or simple longing. Instead, they carried clear, sharp ambition and certainty.
"Soon," he said without explanation.
Ares's heart jolted. Of course, he knew what Tom meant. The system's calendar clearly displayed it—1937. Summer was about to arrive.
The professor in robes patterned with stars and moons, with piercing blue eyes, was about to knock on the doors of Wool's Orphanage.
The storm was coming. And the "ark" they had built together over five years was about to face its first true test of setting sail.
Ares looked at Tom's sculpted profile beneath the setting sun and felt the power of their blood pact faintly resonating with Tom's magic inside him. He gently clenched his fist.
Five years of lying low had come to an end. The real story was only beginning.
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