Ardyn's steps made a soft sound on the sandy soil which was starting to dry out under the light of the afternoon sun.
The dark sword was in his hand, hanging unsheathed, like a piece of shadow that had escaped from the night.
The air still carried the morning chill, but the sun was already high enough to reveal the faces of those who looked at it.
Most stared with keen curiosity, some with vague fear, and the rest with unconcealed disdain.
Toren Hearthwell, a farmer who was arranging piles of young wheat, stopped his work when he saw Ardyn walking.
His gaze went to the dark sword, then to Ardyn's eyes.
Toren quickly bent down as if he had accidentally picked something up, even though he was just trying to avoid eye contact.
Two steps later, Maela Thornwick, the cloth seller, whispered to Ilar Windscar, the goods carrier who had just come down from the hill.
"Why is he carrying that sword?" he whispered. Ilar just shook his head without an answer. Everyone looked, but no one dared to approach.
Ardyn didn't slow down. He knew that showing the sword that even the elder seemed reluctant to touch would cause a commotion.
But commotion is not something he wants to avoid. At this point, he had no reason to back down.
The world has gotten rid of him; he only responded by walking further forward.
Every now and then Ardyn assessed the people's gazes. They looked at the sword, not at him. Good. He prefers it that way. He did not need attention directed at him as a "child without meridians".
The wind moved carrying the aroma of young wheat as the main hall of the Vale Clan came into view ahead. The large dark stone building stood tall with ancestral carvings circling the entrance. The old iron fence creaked softly when Ardyn pushed it.
He entered the main room of the hall. The faint sound of burning incense filled the air, giving off the scent of wood and dry leaves.
Eight elder chairs were arranged in a circle facing the inner courtyard, with Lord Gaius' chair standing slightly higher at the front.
Gaius Vale sat straight with his hands linked together. His face was full of authority, but not cold. Elder Renar stood on the left side, looking uneasy looking at the black sword.
Elder Mirra was at the front, looking at Ardyn with a look as if trying to understand the mindset of a young man who couldn't be placed in any category.
Elder Sylen, the archivist, rolled up a scroll of old records in his lap.
Elder Brom, a large man with a long scar on his face, immediately put his hand on the hilt of his sword when he saw Ardyn's sword.
Gaius spoke first. "Ardyn Vale. You came."
Ardyn stared straight. "You guys called me."
Renar stepped forward, his voice bouncing off the stone walls. "We need to discuss your status after the test. The stone is clear. There are no meridians. You can't enter warrior training."
Ardyn responded without pause. "I heard it clearly."
"In the absence of the meridian," Renar continued, "you were offered an alternative position. Warehouse keeper, goods registrar, logistics carrier. A suitable position for someone without—"
Ardyn raised a thin eyebrow. "Without ability. That's what you mean."
Elder Brom tapped the arm of his chair. "Your attitude is too sharp for someone without power."
Ardyn looked at Brom. "My attitude doesn't come from strength. Just from facts."
Brom scowled, but didn't answer. Mirra watched the exchange with thoughtful eyes.
Gaius sighed. "Ardyn, we don't want to put you in this situation. But clan law is non-negotiable. Without meridians, you won't be able to withstand the currents of the world, let alone train in basic techniques."
"I'm not asking for mercy," said Ardyn. "All I need is an explanation as it is. And you have given that."
Gaius nodded slightly, appreciating the honesty. But the room's attention immediately turned to the dark sword Ardyn was carrying.
Mirra spoke first. "That sword. You found it in the old armory?"
"There is no owner," answered Ardyn. "So I took him."
Elder Sylen tilted his head while looking at the dark blade. "I seem to have read about something that resembles that sword. But the records are hazy. Maybe from the post-Great War period."
Renar didn't like that tone. "You shouldn't bring foreign objects like that into the hall."
Ardyn looked at him without changing expression. "Things worth understanding rarely start from something safe."
Brom frowned sharply. "I don't like the way that thing feels. It's unnaturally quiet."
"Silence doesn't always mean danger," answered Ardyn.
Sylen rubbed his chin. "But sometimes silence is actually a clue."
Gaius raised his hand, making all the elders fall silent. "The sword could be insignificant. It could also be something we don't want to ignore. Therefore, Ardyn, we ask you to bring it to the inner arena."
Ardyn didn't ask the reason. "Good."
The hall became quieter as they walked towards the inner room, a room usually used to test artifacts or objects suspected of having current influence.
The large stone door slid open, revealing a small arena with neatly arranged black stone floors. Four blue torches burned in each corner, providing unblinking light.
Gaius stood next to the wall. "We weren't expecting anything. We just wanted to see if the sword reacted to your hand."
Ardyn stood in the middle of the arena. The black sword was held lightly, like an extension of his will. No energy, no current pattern. Only cold metal is too dark to reflect light.
Mirra gave a short signal. "Swing once. No need for full strength."
Ardyn moved the sword. Simple movement. Purely basic techniques, nothing more.
The air shifts.
The blue torch flickered like it was about to go out, but held on. The sound of the blade moving sounded heavier than a normal swing, as if the blade was demanding more space around itself.
No light. There is no energy resonance. There is no current pulse.
But there is a slight echo that can be felt on the skin.
Gaius lifted his chin slightly. "Interesting."
Mirra stepped closer. "There's no sign of meridian flow. But the air is changing. The space around the blade seems to be being dragged."
Sylen nodded slowly. "Not power. More like… echoes from the past."
Renar looked uncomfortable. "I don't like this."
Ardyn felt the sword in his hand become more focused. It was as if the blade adjusted itself not with strength, but with clarity of intent. The swing felt clean. Too clean for a dull sword that has no name.
Ardyn said slowly, "This sword doesn't need current. It just follows the direction."
Gaius stared at him for a long time before answering. "Perhaps. But that's no reason to put you back on the warrior path."
Renar immediately chimed in. "Don't give him false hope. Resonance is not power."
Gaius turned to Renar, then back to Ardyn. "We won't put you through official training. The law still applies. However… I won't forbid you from carrying that sword either."
Mirra added. "You can continue to practice basic physical movements in public areas. As long as you don't disturb other students."
Sylen spoke as he closed his scroll. "I'm going to look for ancient records tonight. There's something about the nameless sword I need to find."
Brom still looked disapproving, but didn't forbid. "As long as he doesn't cause any trouble."
Ardyn lowered his head slightly. "I understand. I walked outside the official route. That's fine."
Gaius nodded slightly. "Not all paths have to be official to be the right path."
The arena fell silent again when Ardyn stepped out. Seraphine stood at the end of the hall, waiting for him. His eyes fell on the sword Ardyn was holding.
"Ardyn... what happened inside?"
"Not much," answered Ardyn. "Just the world showing another layer."
Seraphine held Ardyn's sleeve for a moment, then let go. "I know you don't like me worrying about you. But I still worry."
"I didn't tell you to stop," said Ardyn.
Seraphine lowered her head slightly, then followed behind.
The sun was directly overhead when Ardyn came out of the hall. The bright light made the shadow of his body elongate in a shape that was not symmetrical to the dark sword.
The afternoon breeze carried the scent of earth and wildflowers, but everything felt a little quieter than usual.
Ardyn gripped the sword tightly. Not because he wanted to protect himself, but because for the first time in his life, he held something that no one else had. Not strength. Just a possibility.
He stepped forward, and the world seemed to hold its breath for a moment, before moving again to its new rhythm.
The sword remained dark, even though the sun was at its brightest.