Elrond looked at Eamon, his blue eyes seeming to pierce through the youth's very being. "Why did you survive, you asked?" he echoed, a solemn intensity in his gaze. "It is because, in the face of oblivion, your Animus awakened."
Eamon stared at him I'm shock 'animus? What's that?'
Elrond sighed softly, a hint of ancient weariness in the sound. "Animus," he explained, his gaze holding a profound significance, "is the very spark of divinity that resides within a mortal. It is the intrinsic life force, the wellspring of potential, the very essence that separates the living from the inert. It is what allows a being to not merely exist, but to be."
'Divinity? Eamon said in a utterly confused tone. 'I have it as well?'
Elrond nodded slowly, his gaze sweeping around the dimly lit chamber as if encompassing all of existence within its ancient walls. "All living things on this world possess it, boy," he stated, his voice regaining some of its earlier majestic resonance.
"It is the fundamental current that flows through all of creation, the invisible fire that fuels life. Some have a mere flicker, enough to sustain their existence. Others... others possess a more potent flame."
Then he gestured at Eamon 'tell me boy. Why was that you forgot your name?'
Eamon frowned, his brow furrowing in concentration as he tried to grasp at any memory, any flicker of his past. But his mind remained stubbornly blank. "I... I have no idea," he admitted, his voice laced with genuine confusion and a hint of frustration.
"When I woke up... there was nothing. Just... emptiness. Like a slate wiped clean." He looked at Dusk, a silent plea for understanding in his stormy eyes. "You gave me the name Eamon. I don't remember any other."
Elrond's gaze intensified, the luminous quality of his blue eyes seeming to deepen, casting faint shadows on the rocky walls. "That," he stated, his voice low and resonant, "is because your very Animus was… consuming your very self from within."
Eamon's eyes narrowed, his initial confusion giving way to a dawning alarm. The concept was unsettling, deeply disturbing. "Consuming... me?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper, laced with disbelief and a palpable undercurrent of fear. The idea of an inner power turning against its host was both terrifying and incomprehensible.
The old man nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "Yes. You awakened your Animus in a moment of extreme peril, when you were at the very brink of death. But your will, in that fragile state, was too weak to contain it, to guide it. Each being is meant to be the master of their own Animus, to wield it with intention.
But it seems, young Eamon, that in your case, your Animus has been the one in control."
Eamon was in shock and utter disbelief 'is in control...of me? Consuming me for within? Is there no way I can control it? Or will it be the end for me?'
The old man raised a hand slightly, his expression calming, his voice a low, reassuring balm against Eamon's rising fear. "Relax, boy," he said gently. "I would not have gone to the effort of saving you from the brink of oblivion if your fate was merely to succumb once more. Control is not beyond your reach. You can take command of your Animus, and in doing so, reclaim control of your very being. It requires suppression, focus… and the unwavering strength of your will."
'My will? Eamon said in subtle but hasty tone. It seem all hope we're not last, he calmed down a little. 'How do I achieve that? He asked what seemed to be a suppressed joyful tone'
Elrondlooked at him, a subtle, almost knowing smile gracing his lips, a hint of the ancient wisdom he possessed. "You will have to train, Eamon," he stated, his voice firm yet gentle.
Then, the smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. A shadow seemed to fall across the old man's face, and the very atmosphere in the stone chamber seemed to grow heavy, the silence amplifying. His striking blue eyes, moments before filled with a hint of warmth, now shone with a subtle, intense light. "I," he declared, his voice resonating with a newfound gravity, "will train you."