The moon of the Gods' Realm hung like a silver scythe over the stone courtyard of the Temple of Echoes, its cold light spilling across the cracked tiles where children knelt before towering beasts. Among them stood Fei He, a thin boy of ten with a faint silver sigil etched on his forehead. The mark should have meant power, but Fei He's limbs trembled, his breath shallow, and his eyes flickered with uncertainty. He had never felt the surge of sorcery, never whispered a single incantation; the _Book of Magic_ lay locked behind stone sentinels, its secrets a distant echo.
The ceremony began with a low, resonant chant from the high priest, a figure cloaked in obsidian robes. "Bow, child, and pledge your service to the beast of your birth," he intoned. The beast, a massive drake with scales that shimmered like oil on water, lowered its head, eyes glowing with the seventh sense. As the drake's nostrils flared, a sudden crack split the air—an ancient stone from the temple's foundation gave way, and a shard of crystal, pulsing with raw energy, tumbled onto the courtyard floor.
Fei He's foot slipped on the loose stone, and he fell forward, his hand instinctively reaching out. His fingers brushed the crystal, and a jolt of power surged through his veins, as if a dormant river had finally broken its dam. The crystal's light seeped into his skin, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to a single point of pure, unfiltered energy. He felt the sixth sense sharpen, then crack, and a strange, seventh sense—like a whisper of wind through leaves—touched his mind.
A voice, ancient and resonant, echoed inside his head: "To wield sorcery, you must first feel its hunger." Pain laced his chest as the crystal's energy forced his heart to beat faster, and a wave of nausea rose. Yet within that pain, a memory surfaced—his mother's lullaby, a simple rhyme about fire and water, about balance. He remembered how she taught him to breathe, to focus, to let breath become a bridge between thought and world.
Summoning that memory, Fei He inhaled, feeling the crystal's pulse sync with his breath. He whispered the first line of the lullaby, and the air around his palm crackled, forming a tiny ember that hovered, trembling. The ember grew, a flicker of flame that danced on his fingertips. He had just performed his first sorcery: _Ignis Initium_, the spark of fire.
The drake, sensing the sudden shift, roared, its seventh sense flaring. It lunged, but Fei He, heart pounding, thrust his hand forward. The ember shot out, striking the beast's snout. The fire, though small, burned with a purity that the drake's seventh sense could not anticipate. The creature recoiled, smoke curling from its nostrils, and for a moment, the courtyard fell silent.
The high priest, eyes wide, stepped back. "He has awakened," he murmured, a mix of awe and fear. The other children, previously resigned to servitude, watched with renewed hope. Fei He, still trembling, felt the crystal's energy settle within him, a seed of power now rooted in his soul. He had no mastery yet, but the first step had been taken.
As the night deepened, Fei He clutched the crystal, its light dimming but not out. He knew the path ahead would be fraught with trials—monsters, gods, and the ever‑watchful eyes of those who would see him fall. Yet, with the first spark of sorcery alight in his palm, he felt a flicker of defiance ignite, promising that one day, he would turn the tide of humanity's bondage.