Chapter 3 – Origins and Shadows
The continent of Auralis stretched endlessly, a land of beauty and danger, divided among sprawling empires, kingdoms, and autonomous regions. Mountains carved borders, rivers drew invisible lines, and the rich pulse of aura—both natural and cultivated—defined every hierarchy.
At the heart of it lay the Ardentium Empire, a vast, sprawling dominion where strength, lineage, and intelligence determined destiny. The emperor ruled with an iron fist tempered by cunning advisors and a council of elite nobles. Each noble family wielded influence not only through wealth but by the aura of its members—powerful cultivators whose presence alone could shift battles or bend the politics of a kingdom.
Below the emperor were dukes, marquises, counts, and barons, each family ranked by the strength of their bloodline and the favor of the court. Powerful geniuses were expected to rise from these families, their aura a reflection of inherited talent, years of disciplined cultivation, and a ruthless drive for dominance.
Among the most renowned were the sect masters, leaders of elite schools and secretive clans who trained the brightest minds in aura cultivation. Their disciples, often regarded as the pinnacle of human potential, could rival or even surpass minor noble families in influence. Some of these sects operated independently, bending their strength to sway kingdoms or challenge the empire itself.
But not all of Auralis' power lay in its kings or sects. Many kingdoms existed at the margins, territories rich in aura yet politically insignificant. Among these was the Eryndor Kingdom, a scenic land known for its verdant forests, crystal rivers, and rare aura-rich sites. Here, nobles held titles, yet their influence rarely reached beyond their borders.
It was in this kingdom, in a modest ducal estate, that Auren Vale was born. The only son of a low-ranked duke, he was expected to carry on his family's name with pride. His father, Duke Vale, was a man of modest ability and quiet dignity. His mother, who he always thought of simply as Mom, passed when Auren was young, leaving him with memories of warmth, gentle guidance, and subtle lessons in observing the world with patience and care.
From birth, Auren's aura was almost undetectable. Scanners recorded zero. Teachers shook their heads. Relatives whispered that he might never cultivate even the most basic skills. But Auren, even as a small child, noticed the world differently.
He noticed the soft curve of the sun over the distant hills, the way the servants moved with silent precision, the hidden strength in a young maid's aura as she carried water across the courtyard. And in all these observations, a quiet amusement bubbled within him. How delicate and perfect these little patterns are, he thought, delighting silently in the details no one else cared to notice.
Growing up in the Vale estate was a mixture of strict discipline and subtle ridicule. His distant cousins, born with extraordinary aura and favored by tutors, often mocked him openly. "You'll never hold a sword, much less a true aura," they would sneer. And yet, while the words stung at first, Auren learned to store those moments, letting each taunt feed the hidden storm within.
From a young age, he developed his bubbly inner world. Outwardly calm, polite, and unassuming, Auren would mentally catalog every person he met: their habits, their aura signatures, and the subtle signs of pride, envy, or hidden strength. He complimented others in his mind, noting the beauty of an older noblewoman, the elegance of a servant, or the raw potential in a young genius. Mom would have been proud of my observations, he thought, a soft warmth blooming inside him.
Even when his own aura remained invisible, Auren's curiosity never wavered. He asked questions of tutors, not to show strength, but to understand—why a noble's aura fluctuated with anger, why the servants' energy seemed to synchronize, why some students could manipulate their aura effortlessly while others struggled. These small observations became his hidden treasure, feeding his growing understanding of the world.
The noble hierarchy in Auralis was strict. Dukes could command territory but were beholden to the emperor. Lesser nobles followed rules, both written and unwritten, and the strongest families often overshadowed the weaker ones in subtle, humiliating ways. Auren, as the only son of a minor duke, was a perpetual outsider at court gatherings, where political alliances were forged with whispered conversations and subtle displays of aura power.
And yet, Auren learned to find amusement in these gatherings. He noted the curves of older noblewomen, the beauty of young prodigies, the arrogance of high-born geniuses. Internally, he would whisper praise and admiration, all while maintaining a calm exterior. So many hearts, so many patterns… one day, they will notice me, he thought with a mischievous grin.
Even in solitude, Auren practiced. Not with sword or raw aura, but with observation, calculation, and subtle mimicry. He could predict when a servant would trip, when a tutor would grow impatient, and even how a rival noble would react to humiliation. These small skills, invisible to all, were shaping him quietly into someone no one would notice… until it was too late.
The growing storm inside him was fueled by years of underestimation. At every birthday feast, at every court gathering, at every early lesson, he absorbed insult and ridicule, laughter and pity, and turned them into a quiet, bubbling excitement. Auren had learned that patience was a weapon, observation a shield, and amusement a power that no one could measure.
His father, aware of his son's quiet demeanor, often fretted. "Auren, you must show more strength. Your aura… it is nothing. You must do something to make your family proud."
Auren had only smiled politely, bowing in respect. Oh, Father… someday, I'll show them all. But not today. Internally, he laughed. Let them continue to underestimate me. It makes the fun grow even bigger.
By the time he was sent to the Heavenly Dominion Academy, Auren had already spent years observing the world, cataloging the patterns of power, pride, beauty, and aura. The geniuses, the nobles, the sects, the distant masters—they were all part of a great gameboard, pieces to be noted, not feared.
He walked into the academy with calm eyes, hands behind his back, a polite smile gracing his lips. Inside, however, he bubbled with excitement. Finally… a place where the rules will test me. Where the arrogance of others will feed me. Where my observations can begin to shape something… extraordinary.
Even as he passed students and instructors, silently noting the subtle flows of aura and behavior, he felt a soft thrill. They don't notice me yet… but they will.
And somewhere deep within, a small voice whispered—a promise from the boy who had survived ridicule, who had cataloged every beauty and every spark of pride in his life. I will turn all this observation, all this patience, into power… and then, the world will finally see me.