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Part 1 – The Quiet and the Spark
The sun rose slowly over the Ashen Peaks, casting molten light across the jagged ridges. Mist rolled from the valleys, curling like living breath around the ancient stones where Teik sat alone, legs crossed, palms upturned. His eyes were half-open — not in meditation, but in war.
His war wasn't against the world outside, but the storm within.
The Magnetic Essence that coursed through his veins trembled restlessly, never still, never obedient. It crackled along his arms in thin arcs of blue light, sometimes gentle, sometimes violent. The ground beneath him was littered with scorch marks from failed attempts at balance.
He was young — far too young for the weight he carried — and yet his eyes had seen the collapse of two lifetimes.
A whisper brushed the edge of his mind, faint and cold as mist. "You can't control what was never yours, Teik."
He flinched. The voice — it wasn't from this world. It was from before. The memory of a life filled with metal, electricity, and a kind of progress that devoured itself. He saw flashes: a city burning under glass towers, a brother's face in the firelight, and a crimson flame locked in his trembling hands — the Rebirth Flame.
"...Damn it." His voice cracked as he pressed a palm to his chest. "Why now?"
"You're leaking aura again."
Mira's voice cut through his thoughts, light but firm. She stepped into the clearing, her red robes trailing dew as her spirit bird fluttered behind her. "You trying to purify the whole mountain with your mood swings?"
Teik smirked faintly, though his eyes stayed shadowed. "Just testing the air. Feels heavier today."
"Or maybe you just finally hit puberty in this life," she teased, crouching beside him.
He snorted — but it felt good to laugh, even briefly.
Ren appeared moments later, his halberd strapped to his back, his calm aura steady as stone. "Master Eira's called for us," he said. "And she sounded… serious."
"When isn't she?" Teik muttered.
Mira's expression shifted. "No, Teik. This time it's different. I felt it — she's preparing something."
Teik stood, brushing dust from his knees. Lightning flickered between his fingers, faint but alive. "Then we better not keep her waiting."
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Part 2 – The Trial of Tempest Blood
The courtyard was vast — a circle of engraved stone floating above a lake of cloud. Master Eira stood at its center, the wind twining through her silver hair like sentient threads of light.
Her presence was calm yet suffocating. Even the mountain spirits seemed to quiet in her shadow.
"You three have reached a threshold," she began, her tone like thunder held in check. "Cultivation is not power — it is self-understanding. But self cannot be forged in comfort."
She lifted her staff. The runes beneath them began to glow — golden at first, then blood-red. The air thickened, humming with spiritual pressure.
"Face this," she said simply, "and prove your right to walk the path beyond essence."
The ground split open.
From the heart of the rune circle, molten stone surged upward, twisting and folding into form. A massive wolf emerged — its body forged of lava and lightning veins, eyes like burning suns. Each breath it took sent shockwaves through the air.
Ren's hand tightened on his halberd. "That's no spirit beast."
Eira's gaze didn't waver. "No. It's a fragment of the world's will — a living storm given hunger. The Trial of Tempest Blood."
Teik's lips curved in a grim grin. "Guess we're skipping warm-ups."
"Teik—!" Mira started, but he was already moving.
Lightning gathered around his feet as he dashed forward, his Magnetic Essence latching onto the beast's own energy. Sparks collided violently, blinding light exploding across the platform.
The wolf struck — a claw of molten force descending. Teik raised his arms, redirecting the impact through his Essence field. The ground cracked beneath him, but he held his stance.
"Magnetic Pulse: Collapse Form!"
He pulled the lightning inward, compressing it to a single point before detonating it outward. The explosion bent the air, hurling both combatants back.
Mira's spirit bird screeched, bursting into flame as she joined in, weaving sigils with practiced grace. Fire danced in harmony with the magnetic waves, creating a swirling inferno that scorched the creature's flanks.
Ren's halberd followed, slicing through the air with a wind-charged arc. "Gale Sever!"
The wolf howled — then split. Its body divided into two smaller, faster versions of itself, both howling in unison.
Mira cursed. "It multiplies? Who designed this nightmare?!"
Teik grinned through bloodied lips. "Adapt or die — right, Master Eira?"
No answer came, only the sound of thunder building overhead.
The battle blurred — a storm of flame, lightning, and wind that lit the entire peak. But as Teik reached the peak of his essence output, he felt something twist inside him — something old and wrong.
For a heartbeat, the battlefield vanished.
He was standing in the ruins of his old world again — skyscrapers in ash, a red sky bleeding light. The same voice spoke behind him, clear this time.
"Teik. You thought dying would free you from this."
He turned slowly. A man stood at the edge of the crumbling skyline — his brother. Or what was left of him.
"Why are you here?" Teik asked, voice shaking.
The man smiled sadly. "Because you brought me, little brother. You carried my essence when you fled. Now it's waking up."
The world shattered again — and Teik's scream carried into the storm.
---
When he opened his eyes, the courtyard was silent. The wolf was gone, nothing left but faint lightning scars in the stone. Mira and Ren knelt beside him, their auras dim but alive.
Master Eira's expression was softer now, though her eyes gleamed like tempered steel.
"You've touched something forbidden," she murmured. "And yet… perhaps it was inevitable."
Teik struggled to stand, every nerve burning. "He's alive," he whispered. "My brother. The one who created the Rebirth Flame."
Eira regarded him for a long moment, then turned toward the horizon. "Then your trial has only just begun. The past will not rest, Teik — not when you've brought its fire into this world."
The wind howled through the peaks, carrying with it a promise — not of peace, but of war to come.