The Iron-Vein River did not flow; it churned.
To the people of Oakhaven, the water was a living beast, thick with the "Heavy Aether" of a forgotten era. Most fishermen stayed in the shallows, terrified of the currents that could snap an oak oar like a dry twig.
Elias was the only one who went deep. And sixteen years ago, the deep had given him a gift.
"Steady, Kael," Elias grunted, his knuckles white against the wood.
A sixteen-year-old boy stood at the prow. He didn't look like the village boys. His hair was the color of a winter moon, and his eyebrows were two sharp, silver slashes above eyes that missed nothing. He didn't use a pole to balance. He stood with his feet planted, his weight seemingly pinning the boat to the thrashing water.
"The net is snagged," Kael said. His voice was low, devoid of the strain Elias felt in every bone.
"Cut it," Elias huffed. "The river is angry today. The violet sky... it's a bad omen."
Kael didn't cut it. He reached down and wrapped the coarse rope around his forearm. He didn't grunt. He didn't heave. He simply stepped back.
The boat groaned. The wood screamed under his heels. Slowly, inevitably, the "unmovable" snag gave way. A massive, rusted anchor from a First Era ruin broke the surface, tangled in their hemp.
"You pulled it," Elias whispered, staring at the boy's relaxed shoulders. "That's three hundred pounds of dead weight against a five-knot current."
Kael looked at his hands. "The water felt light today."
He wasn't lying. To Kael, the world felt like it was made of parchment. For sixteen years, the Ark-Wood necklace against his chest had been teaching him a single lesson: Density is Truth. While the village geniuses practiced "Flowing" with the thin spirit-mist, Kael had been compacting his marrow into lead.
As they rowed back, a shadow fell over the boat. A massive, three-eyed Crow landed on the rusted anchor. It didn't caw. It stared at Kael with a gaze that had seen the dawn of the world.
"The Third Revival," the Crow rasped, its voice like grinding stones. "The thin veil is ripping, hatchling. Are you going to stay in the mud, or are you going to build a throne?"
Kael didn't flinch. He just looked at the purple horizon. "I'm going to the Academy."