Chapter Four: The Second Power – Mind Echo
The sound of silence in the twilight forest was broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and the eerie hum of magical currents in the air. As twilight deepened, the invisible man known to none, named by none sat beneath a towering tree. His breath, though calm, was heavy with thought. The first power, Fire Without Flame, was raw and violent, but the second? The second was subtle, insidious. A curse wrapped in the skin of a gift.
He called it Mind Echo.
It was not mere telepathy. No, Mind Echo was something more intricate and unnerving. It allowed him to hear not just thoughts but the resonances of thoughts. Emotions beneath emotions. Memories clinging to words never spoken aloud. Regret, love, suspicion, betrayal, all buried within a person's mind like coiled snakes. And he heard them without asking. Without trying.
Even now, as he closed his eyes, he could hear the murmurs of the guards patrolling the border of the fairy kingdom.
"Did you hear about the ghost in the Silver Glade?" one thought whispered, though no lips moved.
"They say he burns trees without fire. The elders are worried."
"If I see him, I shoot. Orders from the Queen herself."
He gritted his teeth and stood up slowly, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself, though it was only habit. His body was permanently unseen, but the cloak was enchanted woven from starlight and shadows to muffle the hum of his power. It didn't stop the thoughts, though. They echoed. Always.
He didn't have a name, not anymore. Names anchored the soul. He had severed his own when the curse fell upon him years ago. But lately... someone had begun to whisper to him. A voice unlike the others. Softer. Curious.
Lysaria.
Princess Lysaria had been experimenting with telepathy spells in her private chambers, unaware that her arcane frequency brushed against the invisible man's own. It had begun as an accident. Now, it was something more. Like a tendril reaching across the darkness.
At first, she had heard nothing back. But he had heard her.
"Why does Mother fear these powers? Surely something so beautiful can't be only evil."
"The stars spoke to me last night. They said someone was listening."
Her thoughts were unlike the others. They didn't press against him like needles. They didn't echo with cruelty or fear. Instead, they rang like distant bells, clear and strange. He had tried to ignore her, to drown her voice with fire or silence, but it clung. Her mind was... gentle.
Tonight, he wandered closer to the edge of the garden, where the castle's light touched the woods. The mind-echo from within the walls was stronger here, especially hers. He crouched beneath a rose arch, invisible in every sense, and let himself listen.
"The forbidden library was locked today," she thought, frustrated. "Father knows I'm searching. But why is the section on ancient invisibility spells hidden from me? I'm the heir."
He flinched. So she was researching him. The pulse in his chest beat louder. What did she want?
"If I could speak to him... the ghost man... I wouldn't run. I'd ask him what he sees when no one sees him."
His breath caught. For a moment, the wind around him stilled.
Then, he answered.
Not aloud. Not intentionally. But Mind Echo allowed a reverse pull an emotional imprint left behind like a whisper.
Lysaria suddenly paused. Her hand, holding a scroll, trembled.
"Who's there?" she said aloud.
He cursed himself silently. His heartbeat was a drum in his ears. He had never responded before, never made the connection two-way.
Lysaria stood, scanning the garden with her violet eyes. "Ghost?" she whispered. "Are you real?"
The invisible man turned away, prepared to flee, but her next thought caught him like a snare.
"I'm not afraid of you. Not like them. If you hear me... I want to understand. Please."
The plea was sincere. It rang through him with a clarity that pushed aside the noise of the world. It wasn't pity. It was longing. For truth. For companionship.
A strange thing happened then. The invisible man stepped forward but only one step. Still hidden. Still masked. But no longer retreating.
And that night, when she returned to her chambers, Lysaria left her mind open, just slightly. She thought soft thoughts into the void:
"If you want a name... I'd call you Caelum. It means sky."
The name slid into him like a warm wind. Sky. Limitless. Untouchable. Seen, but never held.
He said nothing.
But in the morning, a single rose from the garden floated outside her window. No wind carried it. No gardener placed it.
Lysaria smiled.
The mind echo between them had begun.
And with it, so had something far more dangerous: hope.