Walking along the terraced path, Roland Weiss lifted his eyes toward the rising sun. Its first rays broke over the lake's horizon, bathing the water and low clouds in warm gold.
The damp boards of the footbridge creaked beneath his steps, and somewhere in the distance came the steady slap of waves against shoreline stone. Between the buildings, he could see boats tied up at their moorings, and beyond them, the faint silhouettes of clan islands, half-swallowed by morning mist.
As he pictured the Awakening Ceremony and how it would unfold, Roland's mind drifted to a legend every person in this world knew.
A legend about Hope Myrks.
It was said to have no form, no body, no structure at all. Just a tiny beam of light.
According to the tale, in the very beginning of this world, the land belonged to wild beasts and monsters.
And yet, among those creatures that prowled the earth, the first human emerged.
That first human was called Adam, and his life was hell.
As a human, he had no fangs, no claws, none of the sharpened senses that beasts were born with.
Worse still… most wild creatures loved the taste of human flesh. For Adam, survival itself was a daily ordeal.
Trapped at the bottom of the food chain, his sources of food were unstable. More often than not, he spent days hiding in whatever shelters he could find, praying not to be discovered.
One day, Adam sat curled inside the hollow of a tree, trembling as he begged the world to spare him, begged that no beast would catch his scent.
That was when three Myrks approached him.
"Human," they said, "if you sacrifice a portion of your life to support us, we will help you overcome the hardships you face."
Adam hesitated for a long time.
But he understood his reality, every day was a fight to stay alive. In the end, he agreed, and accepted their help.
First, he offered his youthful years to the Myrks that looked the largest, unyielding, almost indestructible.
In return, that Myrks granted Adam a strength the world had never seen.
After that, Adam's life changed almost overnight.
With his new Myrks, he had enough power to secure food consistently, and defend himself whenever a wild beast attacked.
He fought bravely…
…but he also fought mindlessly, throwing himself at anything and everything, and before long, his strength dragged him into trouble.
One day, clutching a bruised, blood-soaked arm, Adam finally realized strength wasn't everything.
His body needed time to heal. It needed care.
Strength alone wasn't enough, especially not if he ever faced a pack instead of a single beast.
Bitter, Adam returned to the hiding place where he'd first met the three Myrks.
And he chose to pay again.
This time, he offered his middle years, the prime of his life, to the most beautiful and dazzling Myrks of the three.
In exchange, the second Myrks granted him wisdom.
With wisdom, Adam gained the ability to think, to plan, to understand.
He began to gather experience, and quickly discovered that when used correctly, wisdom was often more powerful than strength.
With Strength and Wisdom together, Adam could accomplish what he'd once only dreamed of.
Now he could defeat nearly any Wild Beast in his path, feeding on them, drinking their blood.
But good things never lasted.
In exchange for strength and wisdom, Adam had sacrificed years of his life.
Now he was old.
And when humans grow old, muscles wither and the mind slows. In the end, an old man is no longer quick, agile, or energetic like he once was.
"Human, what else can you give us?" the Myrks of Strength and Wisdom asked together. "Looking at you… you have nothing left to offer."
And without a second thought, they abandoned him.
Stripped of Strength and Wisdom, Adam was soon surrounded by Wild Beasts again. His aging accelerated, he could no longer run. Teeth fell out one by one until he couldn't even chew wild fruit or plants.
When he finally collapsed onto the earth, powerless, ringed by hungry creatures, despair filled his heart until it felt like it would tear him apart.
Then the third Myrks, the one Adam had first met in that same refuge, appeared before him.
"Human. Pick me up," it said. "I will help you escape these Wild Beasts."
Adam looked at the third Myrks and answered with tears in his eyes.
"Myrks… I have nothing left. Strength and Wisdom left me, saying I had nothing more to offer. All I have left is old age. And even if old age isn't worth what my youth and prime were… if I give you even that, my life will end immediately."
Fear trembled in his voice.
"Even surrounded like this, I won't die instantly. I want to live a little longer, if only one more second. Please… you should go. I have nothing to give you."
The Myrks smiled faintly.
"Among the three of us, I have the smallest needs. Human… if you give me your heart, that will be enough."
Adam's eyes widened.
Without hesitation, he said, "Then I'll give you my heart. But… what can you give me in return? Even if strength and wisdom came back right now, it wouldn't change anything."
Compared to the Myrks of Strength and Wisdom, this one looked fragile and weak.
It was nothing more than a tiny sphere of light.
But when Adam gave it his heart, the Myrks erupted with infinite brilliance and flew straight into him, settling inside his body, inside his heart.
The Wild Beasts surrounding Adam saw that inexplicable phenomenon. They saw the strange glow burning through Adam's flesh, visible even through muscle and bone and in an instant, they fled in panic.
They scattered, leaving Adam stunned, trembling in disbelief.
From that day onward, whenever Adam encountered Wild Beasts, he "gave his heart" to that Myrks.
The Myrks called Hope.
***
Roland's thoughts were cut off by the calm voice of an older man.
"Good. You're all punctual. Today is the Awakening Ceremony, a major turning point in your lives. I won't say much. Just follow me."
The speaker was an academy elder.
With a gray beard and short gray hair, he studied the crowd of more than a hundred fifteen-year-olds gathered before him.
Roland stopped at the edge of the wooden footbridge that ran along the peninsula's shore and looked ahead.
The lake was calm, almost perfectly still, morning light spilling across it in a pale golden sheen. In front of him stood a group of youths his age, faces full of excitement and tension.
The elder who would lead the ceremony stood a few steps ahead, relaxed, as if what was about to happen was the most natural thing in the world.
Then the lake's surface trembled.
Without a splash, without any roar of displaced water, something began to rise from the depths.
First came a dark edge slick with moss. Then another, and another, until a gigantic platform emerged, resembling a natural stone-and-wood pier.
It was the same basic shape as the footbridge they stood on…
…but incomparably larger.
Its surface was uneven, coated in wet moss and lichen, as if it had always belonged to the lake. It was wide enough to hold hundreds.
When it fully surfaced, it settled gently atop the water and began to glide forward, smoothly and silently, leaving not even a ripple behind.
Soft gasps spread through the youths.
The elder stepped onto the platform first without slowing, then turned and waved them forward.
"Get on. No pushing," he said evenly.
One by one, the candidates stepped onto the platform. Beneath their feet, it felt cool and damp, yet surprisingly solid.
When the last of them boarded, the platform pulled completely away from shore and drifted deeper into the lake.
Roland blended into the crowd, his expression calm. His gaze dropped briefly to the water beneath them, then lifted toward their distant destination.
He already knew where they were going.
After a long stretch of silence, broken only by the soft hiss of moving water, a small island began to take shape ahead.
At first glance, it looked ordinary: a rocky shore, a few trees, low vegetation swaying lazily in the breeze.
But Roland knew the truth.
Deep beneath rock and water ran a Vein of Primordial Energy, the foundation of Valen Village, and the real reason this place existed at all.
The platform slowed and nudged against the island's shore.
"We're getting off," the elder said.
For the gathered youths, it was the first step on a road paved with hope.
After they disembarked, the elder led them inland along a narrow, stony trail. At a glance, the place looked no different from any other rocky isle scattered across the lake, short trees, damp soil, lichen crawling over exposed stone.
The farther they walked, the quieter everything became.
After several dozen steps, the path began to slope downward, and eventually led to a natural opening in the rock.
There was no gate.
Only a wide, dark mouth, breathing cold air, carrying with it a faint, constant murmur of water.
The elder paused briefly at the entrance, then continued without a word, leading them inside.
The cave interior was vast. Moist mineral veins glimmered along the stone walls. The ceiling rose high overhead, and their footsteps echoed dully in the darkness. The deeper they went, the clearer the sound of water became.
Then the tunnel widened suddenly.
A huge chamber opened before them…
…and at its center was a lake.
Despite the cave's dimness, the water emitted a gentle bluish glow that reflected off the walls and ceiling, giving the entire place an unreal, almost dreamlike quality.
The surface was smooth and still, as if it didn't belong to the outside world at all.
The water was crystal clear, yet there was no sign of life. No fish. No plants. No water flowers.
And even more unsettling…
Even with water that clear, anyone who tried to see the bottom would find they couldn't. It was impossible to judge how deep the lake truly was.
Though the lake held no life, its shores were lined with hundreds of beautiful white flowers.
They looked like natural blossoms at first glance…
…but they were carefully tended Scarlet Shore Bloodworts of the Valen Clan.
They grew thick along the waterline, their purple spikes standing motionless like ritual candles. Delicate petals trembled faintly in the air, catching the blue light like fresh blood on a blade. The whole grove radiated raw, untamed vitality, wet and wild, as if the earth itself had bared a beating heart.
These Bloodworts are food for many Myrks.
You could call Scarlet Shore Bloodworts the Valen Clan's most important resource.
Roland's eyes swept over the sea of purple flowers.
"Wow… they're beautiful!"
"That color… it doesn't look real."
"This place is incredible."
The sight widened the teenagers' eyes. Excitement and anticipation shone in every gaze.
"Alright," the elder said. "Listen carefully. I'll call your names one by one. When I call you, you'll enter the lake and try to touch the bottom. Swim as deep as you can. Remember, the deeper you go, the better. Understood?"
"Understood!" the youths answered together.
They already knew this, of course. Parents and elders had drilled it into them for years.
Everyone understood: the deeper you reached, the greater your talent. And the greater your talent, the brighter your future in the Valen Clan.
The elder raised his list.
"Noah Morgen."
At the sound of his name, a young boy flinched, but he quickly stepped out of line, staring at the glowing lake.
Noah's face was solemn. He took several deep breaths, forcing his heartbeat to steady.
Then, with hope burning in his chest, he jumped into the water.