The sky above Aether Hall shimmered like molten glass beneath
the rising sun.
Awakening Day had arrived.
The entire city of Lythrien seemed to breathe differently that morning. Incense
smoke coiled upward from bronze braziers lining the streets, and the white
marble steps leading to Aether Hall had been scrubbed until they reflected the
light like polished mirrors. Families climbed those steps dressed in ceremonial
robes, some embroidered with symbols of flame, frost, wind or stone quiet declarations of bloodline pride.
At the center of the vast courtyard floated the Awakening Orb.
It descended slowly from an open aperture in the ceiling, suspended by nothing
visible, rotating in dignified silence. Threads of gold, sapphire, emerald, and
crimson light intertwined inside it like miniature galaxies caught in eternal
orbit.
It was beautiful.
It was terrifying.
Valeria stood among the initiates in a simple grey robe, the fabric plain
compared to the elaborate garments of others. She preferred it that way.
Expectations weighed less when you did not dress like you carried them. Around
her, excitement vibrated like static.
"Do you think it hurts?" someone whispered. "It only hurts if you're weak,"
another replied.She exhaled quietly through her nose.
Weak.
The word had followed her all her life not because she had failed but because
she had never displayed anything extraordinary. No accidental bursts of flame
as a child. No frozen cups of water during temper tantrums. No wind stirring at
her fingertips.
Just stillness.
Ronan Halvek appeared at her side again, flanked by two admirers.
"You look calm," he said, studying her face. "Or stunned."
"Is there a difference?" she replied.
He smirked. "You know, some people are born for greatness."
"And some are born for speeches," she said lightly. A ripple of laughter passed
through the nearby initiates not
entirely at her expense.
His jaw tightened.
Seris stepped forward, pale braids resting over one shoulder.
"They say the Orb reflects your true root," she said sweetly. "It would be
unfortunate if yours didn't reflect at all."
Valeria met her gaze.
"Then I suppose we'll finally have something in common."
Seris blinked. The ceremonial drums began to thunder before further insults
could form.
The elders entered in procession twelve
of them robes white and trimmed in gold. Their presence pressed against the
air, cultivated power radiating outward in controlled waves.
Behind Valeria, she felt it steady and
grounding.
Her father, Spirit Architect Darius Vale.He did not speak at first, but his
hand briefly brushed her shoulder.
A silent reassurance.
"You are not alone," that touch said.
The head elder raised his staff. "Today, you stand before the Awakening Orb. It
will reveal your affinity and the strength of your spiritual root. Accept its
judgment with humility." One by one, names were called.
A boy stepped forward timid, sweating.
When his palm met the Orb, golden sparks erupted around his arm. "Spark
Initiate. Fire affinity."
Applause echoed.
Another girl approached. Blue frost crawled across the stone
floor at her feet. "Spark Initiate. Ice affinity."
More applause.
The Orb responded eagerly to each touch
bright, reactive, generous.
Valeria felt a flicker of something she refused to name.
Hope.
Ronan's turn came. He stepped forward with theatrical confidence. Flames burst
outward in a dramatic spiral, climbing nearly two meters into the air.
Gasps filled the courtyard.
"High Ember potential," an elder announced.
Ronan's grin widened as he returned to his place, eyes lingering on Valeria.
Then, "Valeria Vale."
Silence fell.
She walked forward.
Each step sounded too loud against the marble.
The Orb loomed before her, larger up close. Its surface shimmered like liquid
glass. She extended her hand. The moment her skin touched it, everything
changed. The world narrowed.
Sound dulled.
Instead of warmth, she felt cold immense and unfathomable.
Not surface cold. Depth cold. Like
pressing her palm against the frozen skin of an ocean beneath which something
vast shifted slowly.
Her breath caught.
Inside her chest, that hollow space opened wider. The Orb's inner lights
slowed.
The spiraling colors faltered. A faint ripple of darkness spread from the point
of contact.
Torches along the courtyard walls flickered. A murmur swept through the crowd.
"Why is it dimming?"
Valeria's heart pounded.
She tried to push outward to offer something anything. But instead of giving,
something inside her pulled.
Not violently.
Not greedily.
Naturally.
As though the Orb's light were simply returning to where it belonged.
An elder stepped forward sharply. "Remove her hand." She jerked back.
The Orb flared to life again, stabilizing quickly.
The sudden brightness felt accusatory. The elders whispered incantations,
examining the sphere for irregularities. The head elder finally turned. His
expression was unreadable.
"Valeria Vale. Below Spark. Unmeasurable."
The words echoed across the courtyard. A stunned silence lingered. Then
laughter.
Whispers sharpened.
"Below Spark?"
That's not even a reading."
"She drained it."
Valeria stood perfectly still.
Below Spark.
Not weak.
Absent.
She refused to look toward Ronan. Refused to look toward Seris.
Her father stepped forward. "The Orb dimmed," he said calmly.
The head elder's eyes narrowed. "Momentary imbalance. The reading stands."
Imbalance.
The word struck something deep inside her.
Imbalance implied deviation. Deviation implied error.
But she had felt no error. Only hunger.
The ceremony resumed as if nothing had happened. Yet as she returned to her
place, she noticed something subtle. The Orb's glow, though restored, seemed
slightly less vibrant Or perhaps that was her imagination.
The final initiate completed their awakening.
The elders concluded the ceremony.
Families gathered their children some
beaming, some subdued.
Ronan approached her openly this time. "Below Spark," he repeated softly.
She tilted her head. "Still higher than your maturity.
He leaned closer. "Careful. People without power shouldn't provoke those who
have it."
Her voice lowered. Then I suppose you should be careful too."
For a moment, something flickered in his expression uncertainty. Because despite the
announcement, she did not look broken.
She looked steady. He stepped back firstAs the courtyard emptied, Valeria
lingered near the pillars. Her father joined her.
"You felt it," he said quietly.She hesitated. "Yes."
"What?"
She searched for words. "Not emptiness. Not exactly. More like… space."
His gaze sharpened thoughtfully.
"Space can hold many things."
She frowned. "It felt like the Orb was…"
She stopped.
"Was what?"
"… returning something."
He did not answer immediately. Instead, he looked up toward the open sky above
the courtyard.
High beyond mortal sight, within a crystalline chamber suspended among drifting
constellations,
an ancient array flickered. A thin fracture of darkness traced across its
surface.
Celestial figures stood around it
luminous, indistinct.
"The Orb responded abnormally," one voice stated.
"To what?"
A pause.
"Consumption." Silence followed.
"That force was sealed."
"It is weakening."
"Observe the girl."
Back in Lythrien, Valeria walked home beside her father.
The city bustled normally, unaware of celestial deliberations. "I embarrassed
you," she said at last. He stopped walking.
"You could never embarrass me."
"I don't even register."
He crouched slightly so their eyes met.
"The Heavens measure output. Not potential."
She swallowed. What if I don't have potential?"
He placed a hand over her chest.
"You felt something."
"Yes."
"Then it exists."
That night, long after the city quieted, Valeria lay awake staring at the
ceiling.
Below Spark.
Unmeasurable.
The words replayed over and over.
But beneath them, quieter and steadier, something else pulsed.
A slow, patient awareness.
Not angry.
Not violent.
Waiting.
And somewhere far above, beyond clouds and mortal fear,
the Heavens watched the girl they could not measure.
For the first time in centuries,
the balance had shifted.
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