The wind whistled through spiraling towers as morning light fell across the Celestial Academy of Thaleon, a realm built not on stone, but on pride, power, and the whisper of bloodlines.
Above the Starblessed Courtyard, hundreds of disciples gathered, some leaning on blades, others seated in meditation, their veins faintly glowing beneath their skin like rivers of starlight.
At the center, floating upon a half-emptied wine gourd, a man snored.
Old Jhin.
Robes wrinkled, beard like wild vines, and one sandal missing.
He jolted awake mid-snore, blinked twice, then belched.
"Ah. Time for talent testing. Right. You lot!" He pointed a lazy finger at six gathered disciples. "Yes—you, statue-face. You, trickster-smirk. You, round pudding. You, perfume prince. You, nap-eyed murderer. You—veil girl."
The courtyard stifled laughter. Nicknames had been assigned.
Nocth, stone-faced.
Imius, ever-smirking.
Tanno, the panting glutton.
Velmin of Myrrh, overdressed and powdered.
Raen, a red-eyed killer from the Bloodshale.
Shae' of Nytherari, silent, veiled, untouchable.
Old Jhin grinned like a mad sage.
"Today, you'll climb the Soul-Stone Spire. You reach the top, you're worth teaching. Fall off? Go back to hugging pigs."
A rumble cracked the earth.
A towering obsidian spire burst from the ground like a fang of the heavens. Vein patterns shimmered faintly across its surface—some glowing, others dead and cracked.
Whispers swept the courtyard.
"The Spire of Judgment…"
"It hasn't been used in ten years…"
"Someone died on it once…"
---
One by One, They Ascend
Imius went first.
He cracked his neck, yawned, and leapt up the first ten levels like skipping stairs.
His veins glowed faint amber-gold, sand swirling at his feet.
Tier 1 Affinity – Luminous Sand Veins.
He danced between pressure points and triggered faint illusions, even placing a fake handhold for the next climber to fall.
"I help others ascend by letting them fall," he said with a wink.
The crowd laughed.
---
Shae' followed. Her steps left frost. Her veil rippled like it breathed.
Each step upward slowed time around her—ice-light affinity at work. At the 50th level, frost covered a large portion of the tower.
A faint voice murmured from the wind:
"Class 1. Vein Count… 211."
Even Old Jhin raised an eyebrow. "Good girl. Cold, but not heartless."
---
Tanno climbed ten steps, huffed, and slid back down, begging for snacks.
Old Jhin tossed him a potato. "Grow a second vein first, fatty."
---
Velmin of Myrrh strutted up like it was a staircase to his father's throne. Perfume trailed behind him, but when he reached level 25, the tower glowed gray, rejecting him.
"Vein count: 92. Affinity: Vanity Flame."
Someone snorted.
---
Then Came Nocth
He stood beneath the Spire, blank-eyed, hands in pockets.
A silence fell.
When his hand touched the stone, the tower pulsed once.
Not with color—but with silence. A silence deeper than night.
Then a ripple passed up the Spire as if it recognized him.
Nocth stepped forward.
The crowd leaned in.
Step by step, his presence grew. Not in force—but in stillness.
The spire's cracks began to glow, not with light—but with shadows flickering like dreams.
By the 30th level, the surface warped. The very air trembled.
"What… is that affinity?" a noble girl whispered.
Old Jhin's smile faded.
"No class. No category. No blessing. Just… dreaming."
Nocth's body wasn't glowing. But space around him warped—like reality blinked when he passed.
At step 33, the spire screamed.
The upper half cracked. Stars reflected in its stone surface. Not stars from the sky—but stars that shouldn't exist. Alien constellations, twisting.
The elders watching from afar stood. One of them dropped his scrying stone.
Nocth stopped. His eyes—lifeless until now—twitched faintly. Something flickered within.
A memory? A voice?
"...Nocth...you must never remember..."
He collapsed forward.
Shae', from her perch above, leapt down mid-trial, catching him before he hit the stone.
For a second, their eyes met.
Her veil fluttered.
His heartbeat slowed.
---
End Scene
Old Jhin landed beside them, unusually sober.
He stared at the cracked spire, then at the unconscious boy.
"What's born from dreaming… never stays asleep."
He took a long drink from his gourd.
"Bring him to me when he wakes. I've seen that power once before. A long time ago... before even the Celestial Kingdom rose."