Lucen Arkai wasted no time.
The next morning, before Qingsai even adjusted to his new quarters, the old light master summoned him to the Solarium, a rooftop training arena open to the sky.
"Lucentia is not light," Lucen began, drawing a circle in the air that glowed like dawn. "It is clarity. Purity. It is the will of truth, shaped into radiance."
Qingsai frowned. "So… I can't throw beams of light at people?"
Lucen smirked faintly. "You can—but that's the dullest way to use it."
He extended his hand. A prism of blinding white shimmered to life, solidifying into a sword.
"Lucentia is insight given form. It burns illusions. Reveals weakness. It can blind… or illuminate."
Qingsai closed his eyes and tried to pull the same energy from within. His flame stirred, but light didn't answer.
"Too much emotion," Lucen said. "Lucentia requires stillness. Focus. Not passion like flame."
So began the training.
For hours, Qingsai meditated, stood in silence, attempted to summon even a flicker. But nothing came.
By the time he collapsed, sweat drenching his tunic, Lianhua brought him cool water and sat quietly at his side.
> "It's okay," she whispered. "You're learning to see without your eyes. That takes time."
Qingsai looked at her gentle smile.
And in that moment… something clicked.