Moon slid the wooden door closed behind him, his father's words still echoing in his mind. The corridor outside the main hall stretched empty before him, granting him a precious moment of solitude as he pressed the wooden box containing his new blade against his chest.
"A proper weapon for what may come... hah."
His fingers traced the smooth lacquered surface of the box, feeling the delicate mother-of-pearl inlay beneath his touch. This blade was beautiful—a real weapon, not some training tool. It was his father's acknowledgment that tomorrow would mark a turning point in his life.
Moon walked slowly through the compound toward his quarters, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the stone pathways. A tangle of emotions churned within him that he couldn't fully untangle: excitement at the prospect of gaining a Forbidden Technique like those from the stories he'd heard, fear of what the Mark of Uhazari might bring, and beneath it all, a deep loneliness that had been his constant companion since that chaotic day four years ago.
In his quarters, Moon carefully placed the blade box on his small desk and began gathering what he would need for the journey. A change of clothes, a small pouch of dried fruit and nuts, a water skin. The familiar routine of preparation helped calm his racing thoughts, giving his hands something to do while his mind processed everything his father had told him.
"The mark is not a curse... that's all you need to know for now. What's the point of even telling me that?"
But if not a curse, then what? Moon had seen with his own eyes what happened to his mother—her death, and that mark was the cause.
He shook his head violently, pushing the memory away. No, he wouldn't think about that now. As he continued packing, a soft knock sounded at his door.
"Come in," he called, expecting perhaps Instructor Yuna with final instructions for the journey. Instead, Mira's face appeared as the door slid open. She held a small package wrapped in cloth.
"I heard you're leaving for the Hall of Records tomorrow," she said, stepping inside. "Earlier than expected."
Moon nodded, returning to his packing. "My father wants to arrive early. We leave at dawn."
Mira placed the package on his bed. "It's a travel cake—my mother made it for you." She hesitated, then added, "For luck."
Moon looked at her for a moment before responding. "Thank you." He was genuinely touched by the gesture. Few clan members would offer gifts to children approaching their tenth birthday; superstition kept most at a distance, as if transformation might somehow be contagious.
Mira watched him pack for a moment before speaking again. "Are you scared?"
The directness of her question caught him off guard. Most people danced around the subject, using euphemisms or avoiding it altogether.
"No," he said. It was a lie, and he immediately reconsidered. "Maybe. I don't know."
"If I were you, I would be," Mira said simply. "Everyone is, when their time comes."
Moon closed his travel bag and sat on the edge of his bed. "It's different for you. You don't have to worry about..." He trailed off, unable to say it aloud.
"The mark," Mira finished for him.
"No, you don't. But there's still a chance of awakening it, isn't there?"
Unlike him, who had a 99% possibility of awakening the mark that was the harsh truth everyone knew. As for the mark, only new ones could awaken it, but even among the new ones there was privilege. Moon was the best example of that, and because of that privilege, he faced hatred even from other new ones.
"The Awakening Ceremony isn't exactly a walk in the spring fields for anyone," Mira said.
Moon looked at her curiously. "What have you heard about it?"
Mira shrugged. "Only rumors... that the Hall judges you somehow, that it looks into your soul and decides if you're worthy of a Forbidden Technique." She lowered her voice. "Some say if you're judged unworthy, you come back... changed."
"Changed how?"
"Just... different. Like something essential is missing." She shook her head. "It's probably just stories to scare children, like the tale of the Night Walker who steals fingers from children who don't practice their forms."
Moon knew it was all lies there was nothing like that.
Despite himself, Moon smiled slightly. "Instructor Yuna still tells that one to the younger students."
"Because it works," Mira grinned.
For a moment, the heaviness in Moon's chest lightened. This was what normal children did—they shared stories, joked, worried about training. Not about transforming into monsters or disappearing without a trace.
His smile faded as he remembered his reality was different from all the other children.
"I should finish packing," he said, standing again.
Mira nodded, sensing the shift in his mood. "I'll see you at the Hall of Records then," she said, moving toward the door. "Let's hope you return with a powerful Forbidden Technique that will make even Kwan jealous."
After she left, Moon continued his preparations. He spent the rest of the day in his room, lost in thought and preparation.
As the sky darkened outside his window, he could hear the compound coming alive with evening activities. The communal dinner would be starting soon in the great hall. Tonight, he wasn't required to attend; children preparing for the journey to the Hall were traditionally given the evening to themselves and their families.
Family... hah. For him, that meant only his father now.
His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since morning. Deciding to venture to the kitchens for a simple meal rather than stay alone with his thoughts, Moon slid his door open and froze.
Voices drifted from around the corner of the building, low and serious. Adults were speaking in the hushed tones they used when discussing matters not meant for children's ears.
"...three this month," someone was saying. Elder Joo's voice, Moon realized. "Far more than usual."
"The number of transformations is increasing compared to the awakening of petals," came another voice.
"Awakening of petals," Moon repeated those words, not understanding what they meant.
Another voice replied—Elder Nam, the oldest member of the clan council. "It was the same just before the last surge."
"And Moon is showing the signs," Elder Joo said, causing Moon's breath to catch in his throat.
"Sung believes he will pass through safely with petals," a third voice interrupted—Instructor Yuna. "And I agree. The boy has remarkable control for his age."
"Let's just hope he won't turn like his mother," Elder Nam said grimly, and a heavy silence followed.
"The Katari representatives will be watching this group closely then," Elder Joo finally said. "They always pay special attention to the Tensura Clan children."
"As if we need reminding that we're different," Instructor Yuna said, a bitter edge to her voice. "These are children, not time bombs."
"Tell that to the families who lost loved ones in the First Transformation," Elder Nam said, his voice rising. "Because of the dream creature."
"That was different," Yuna insisted. "We didn't understand it then."
"Do we understand it now?" Elder Nam asked, his voice sharp.
"Enough," Elder Joo cut them off. "What's done is done. Our focus must be on those approaching their Awakening now. Sung is wise to take Moon early, before the others. If anything... happens... it will be away from the compound."
The conversation moved on to other children approaching their tenth birthdays which ones showed promise, which ones worried the elders. Moon remained frozen, processing what he had heard. The adults spoke as if transformation was inevitable for some children, a mere matter of time.
And they had been discussing him specifically.
"Moon is showing the signs... So much like his father."
"That's a good sign then. If he awakens his mark with petals, it will benefit our clan in the future."
The voices grew distant as the elders moved away, their conversation continuing beyond his hearing.
"What are these old hags talking about?" Moon muttered to himself.
Scratching his head, he headed toward the communal hall, his mind spinning with questions and half-understood warnings.