In the shadowed recesses beneath the ruined citadel, torches guttered in iron sconces, feeding the darkness more than pushing it back. A ring of figures knelt before a tall silhouette draped in ceremonial black. Their chanting was ragged, their devotion strained.
"Four children," hissed the figure. His voice carried like a serrated blade across stone. "Four untested sparks… and yet you failed."
One of the kneeling thralls shuddered, his corrupted body quivering. "Forgive us, Master. Their light—"
"Light? Shadows? Will? Eternity?" The leader's tone twisted into a low laugh. "So… the pieces awaken. The Ancient One stirs earlier than foretold."
A silence fell. The cultists dared not speak. Only the scratching of chains and the crackle of a single flame filled the chamber.
"Do not mistake this for defeat," the figure continued, stepping forward. His face remained veiled, but the madness in his presence was palpable. "Every stumble of theirs reveals their nature. And once we know which Pathways they tread… we will unmake them."
His hand lifted, and the flame in the torch withered, as though cowering from his will. "Prepare the next rite. They must see us watching."
⸻
Far from that lair, sunlight poured through crystalline panes into the hall of the Azure Dawn Association. Nelly, Nathan, Courage, and Divine stood before a semicircle of mentors, the weight of the skirmish still heavy in their silence.
Ellisar, their guide, rested his hand on the head of his staff. His eyes softened but held unspoken urgency. "You've touched something few your age ever brush. The skirmish wasn't chance. The Cult of the Black Sun hunts those who walk the Nine Pathways."
The four exchanged looks—fear, curiosity, disbelief.
"What… are Pathways?" Divine asked first, his tone hesitant, almost reverent.
Ellisar exhaled slowly, as though measuring each word. "They are fragments of a shattered whole—the Ancient One's divided power, each fragment a road of ascension. Each road carries blessings and curses. And each of you…" His gaze swept across them, pausing with gravity on each face. "…has already begun walking one."
Nelly's chest tightened. He remembered the tendrils of shadow that lashed out without command, the way whispers seemed to coil around his mind.
Nathan clenched his fists, the memory of radiant bursts still etched into his palms.
Courage frowned, resolute but uneasy. "So our fight… it was just the beginning?"
"Yes," Ellisar replied, his voice firm but heavy. "You are not simply students. You are vessels of power ancient and terrible. You—Nelly—bear the Pathway of Shadows. Nathan, the Pathway of Light. Courage, the Pathway of Will. And Divine…" His eyes lingered a moment, with an almost cautious respect. "…you have already touched the Pathway of Eternity."
The chamber seemed to grow colder with the revelation.
"Each Pathway climbs in Sequences," Ellisar said, "from lowest—mere sparks—to Sequence Zero, where one becomes more than mortal. You stand now at the edge, scarcely aware. But the Cult will not allow you to grow without interference."
Silence stretched. Then Nathan broke it, voice firm despite the tremor in his hand.
"Then we'll grow faster than they expect."