Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“I really do not ‘hate’ you,” Idhron said. “I do not ‘hate’ anyone. Hate is an emotion. Emotions are a liability, and I have eradicated most of them.”
Eridan stared at him.
Was he serious? He really didn’t feel emotions? Why? How was that even possible?
Master Idhron walked to the window. “Have you not been told by your instructors that emotions interfere with your control over your telepathy?”
Eridan nodded, frowning. “Yes, but none of my instructors have ever implied that eradicating emotions was something to strive for.”
“For them, it isn’t,” Idhron said, gazing outside. “Most Masters do not think that emotions are a big liability. They are wrong.”
“But how can you know that?”
Idhron turned away from the window and met his gaze. “The fact that I am a Class 7 telepath is proof enough.”
Distantly, Eridan was aware he was gaping.
Class 7?
Idhron was Class 7?
“You are a Seven?” he breathed out. “But how— No one said you were a Seven.”
“It is not something I advertise,” Idhron said, shrugging. “But the Grandmaster and the Chapter are aware of it.”
Eridan licked his lips and leaned forward. “Can you really kill people with your mind?” he whispered, his heart beating faster. A freaking Seven, holy shit. There were no Class 7 telepaths on the planet, as far as everyone knew.
The look Idhron gave him was extremely unimpressed. “Even if I could, I would hardly tell you that, initiate. And that is beside the point.”
Right. What was the point?
Eridan forced himself to stop fixating on the mind-blowing fact that he was in a room with a Seven and rewound their conversation in his head. “Wait, do you mean that you’re a Seven because you don’t have emotions? How is that even connected?”
Master Idhron eyed him for a moment before saying, “What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room.”
It was a statement, but Eridan nodded anyway, looking at Idhron curiously.
“Every telepath has an area of their brain dedicated to telepathy,” Idhron said.
Eridan nodded, glad that he actually knew what Idhron was talking about. “Yes, the atheus.”
“Indeed,” Idhron said, and for the first time since Eridan had met him, there was something like faint approval in his gaze.
Eridan scowled, annoyed with himself for feeling a little pleased.
“The size of one’s atheus determines the strength of one’s telepathy,” Idhron said. “That is why higher-level telepaths are so rare: it is extremely rare that one is born with a large enough atheus. But what is not widely known is that it is possible to make your telepathy stronger. Just like any muscle, one’s atheus can be grown by training it.”
Eridan frowned. “But that doesn’t make sense. If it were true, everyone would become a high-level telepath.”
“No, because most people lack the discipline and do not wish to sacrifice what they see as essential.” Idhron’s lips curled into a derisive smile. “They value their emotions too much.”
Eridan felt puzzled. “But why do you have to sacrifice your emotions?”
Idhron gave him a surprisingly patient look. “The brain’s capacity is not unlimited. If one is not born a high-level telepath, increasing the size of one’s atheus comes at a price. It can be increased only at the expense of another part of the brain. Sacrificing the capacity for one’s useless emotions and feelings makes the most sense.”
Eridan stared at this cold-eyed man and realized with a fascinated sort of horror that Idhron really didn’t understand that the capacity to feel was what made one a sentient being. He wondered if there had been time Idhron understood that he was losing something essential in pursuit of more power. If there had been, it clearly was no longer the case. The man in front of him was something of a sociopath now, unable to understand or feel deep emotions. It was both disturbing and fascinating.
“Do you expect me to give up emotions, too?” Eridan said with a laugh. “Because I can tell you right now that isn’t likely.”
Idhron studied him. “It is not something I expect from you, but it is something I expect you to make an honest effort to learn. If you do learn it, good. If you do not, it does not matter. You are a Class 5 telepath. It is good enough.”
Eridan smiled wryly. He couldn’t help but think that Idhron just didn’t want him to become as powerful as him.
Idhron pinned him with a stern look, walking back to him. “What I will demand of you is hard work and loyalty. You will do everything I say, no exceptions.”
“If you wanted blind obedience, you picked the wrong initiate,” Eridan said with a smile. “I have never been all that good at following the rules.”
Idhron narrowed his eyes. “Then you will learn,” he said coldly. “Or I will cast you aside, and no other Master will choose a cast-off.”
Eridan glared at him, his good humor vanishing. He felt that sickening lurch in his stomach again, the edges of his vision turning red as his hand clenched into a fist. He knew what was about to happen, but this time he let it. He imagined choking the life out of that asshole, imagined the life fading out of his emotionless eyes—