Chapter 7 – Seeds of Jealousy
The sun had barely risen over the distant peaks of the Genesis mountains when Kael's courtyard came alive with movement. Birds fluttered overhead, dew sparkled on leaves, and the quiet hum of mana from the nearby spirit stones filled the air with unseen pressure. It was a new day, but for the young cultivators of the town, it was just another chance to prepare for the two-month-delayed trial.
Kael stood shirtless in the center of the courtyard, muscles flexing, a light sheen of sweat already building on his back. His movements were precise and disciplined—not quite the forms taught by the town's instructors, but sharp and efficient. With every strike, he focused on strengthening his frame and cleansing his body. The first realm, Body Refinement, required no shortcuts.
Samuel, large and rugged, groaned beside a pile of stones. "Kael, I swear if you ask me to lift another one of these, I'm going to throw you into the pool myself."
Kael grinned without stopping. "Try it, and you might get that backache cured."
Mike, calm and poised, practiced a series of stance transitions a few feet away. His arms moved in clean arcs, posture balanced. "You're intense this morning, Kael."
Kael shrugged. "The trial's not going to wait forever. Might as well be ready."
Off to the side, sitting beneath the shade of the spirit tree, was Ryn.
Quiet, observant, and always just out of the center. He watched as Kael launched into another series of body-hardened strikes. Everyone clapped lightly, impressed. Samuel gave a playful whistle. Even Mike paused and nodded in respect.
Ryn forced a smile.
He remembered when things had been different.
Years ago, before relics or martial techniques, Kael and Ryn had been inseparable.
Back when they sat at the front of the town's only classroom, when they sneaked food during boring lectures and shared wild plans under the stars.
Ryn had admired Kael's creativity. He was always building something—wooden toys, mini carts, even a bamboo music pipe for Liora once. But Ryn had been the quiet one, the one who studied hard, who always handed in his assignments first. Still, they made a good team.
Until that day.
It had been a sunny afternoon. Their teacher had asked the class to create something that demonstrated the principle of balance.
Kael, as always, had gone wild—he built a rotating gear structure out of clay and wood, something that could hold weight and still spin. It amazed even the town chief, who'd come to inspect the class that day.
Ryn, who had nothing of his own, panicked. Before Kael could present, Ryn tried to claim it as his own.
Kael, stunned but calm, simply said, "That's mine. I built it."
The class laughed. The teacher frowned. And Ryn was humiliated.
He never forgot the shame.
He never forgave Kael.
Back in the courtyard, Kael walked over with a towel slung over his shoulder. He tossed a flask of water toward Ryn.
"You okay? You haven't trained all morning."
Ryn nodded quickly. "Just watching. Learning."
Kael grinned. "You always say that. I miss our old sparring sessions. You used to be the one challenging me."
Ryn offered a weak laugh. "Maybe I just got lazy."
Kael patted his shoulder. "Don't disappear on me. We rise together, remember?"
Ryn nodded again, but this time his grip tightened around the flask.
You stole my moment. Now they all follow you.
That evening, Ryn walked alone through the market district. A hooded figure approached from a side street, footsteps silent.
"You are Ryn?"
He nodded.
The figure handed over a scroll and a sealed pouch. "A gift. For one who deserves more than silence."
"Who sent you?"
"The Vein watches."
Before Ryn could ask more, the figure melted into the alleyways.
Ryn opened the note.
You have potential. We see you, even when others don't.
When you're ready to be more, light the ink of the scroll. The Silent Vein awaits.
Back near the fire pit, Kael and Samuel argued over how to properly roast spirit beast meat. Mike quietly shaped a new training staff. Liora arrived late, tired from tutoring younger children.
"You look drained," Kael noted.
"That happens when kids try to eat inkstones."
Everyone laughed, except Ryn, who sat quietly with his hands in his robe.
Liora handed Kael a protective charm. "Mother said wear this before the trial."
Ryn watched from the corner.
It's always Kael, he thought.
Always.
Late that night, Ryn unrolled the scroll in the privacy of his room. Strange runes glowed dimly on the page, pulsing with unseen energy.
Vein Pulse Art.
It promised precision, hidden power, and silence.
And all it asked for was secrecy.
Far from town, in the upper levels of the sect, the protector met with elders.
"Kael shows signs of ancient lineage," one elder mused.
"Three full stages of Body Refinement, with barely any spiritual fatigue. And his body control is... impressive."
Another elder leaned forward. "And the boy named Ryn?"
The protector hesitated. "Quiet. Focused. He blends in."
"Those are the ones you miss until it's too late."
And so, in the peaceful town beneath Genesis' sky, two paths quietly branched.
One, touched by legacy and light.
The other, swallowed by silence and envy.
And when they met again, it would not be as friends.