Chapter One: Beneath the Petals (Part Three)
Date: May 23, Year 204 PCR (Maelis 23)
Location: Celestis Veil – Heartbloom Summit / Petalwind Courtyard
Time: Mid-Morning
A gust stirred the petals again.
But this time, it wasn't wind—it was resonance. Faint, low-toned, like the sound of a song carried through ancient stone. The Pulse Eye Orb floated higher, now level with the raised terrace. Glyphs continued to bloom across its surface—more complex with each touch, more unstable.
Some children stepped back in awe.
Others in shame.
And still the line crept forward.
Selka's name was called.
She stepped out without hesitation.
Her white hair caught the light of the morning sun, silver at the tips where resonance had burned through it during the Trial. The crowd was still now. Not because they expected greatness—but because they expected nothing at all.
The Hollow Choir had marked her once. That stain never fully faded.
But she walked anyway.
One step. Then another. Then a third. Each movement measured, like she was moving through water none of them could see.
Zephryn's breath caught as she neared the orb. He didn't know why—but something in him already knew hers would be different.
And it was.
The moment her hand touched the surface, the Pulse Eye went silent.
No light. No glyph. No color.
The petals froze in the air.
Then the orb cracked.
Not shattered—but split, faintly, down one glowing line. Like something had pushed against it from the inside and refused to be named.
Selka's eyes didn't widen. She didn't flinch.
She only whispered something no one else could hear.
And then the orb glowed white.
Not bright. Not dramatic. Just… quiet. Pure. Like the absence of sound before the first note is sung.
The crowd was silent.
Kaelen's jaw tightened.
Yolti whispered, "What does that mean?"
Zephryn didn't answer.
Selka returned to the line without a word.
She didn't look at Zephryn. But as she passed him, he felt it—a subtle pressure across the air. Like her glyph had just rewritten the way the wind moved.
Kaelen was next.
He walked with the weight of someone who'd already fought the war once and didn't want to again.
The Pulse Eye pulsed immediately as he neared. It didn't wait for his touch. The moment he stepped within arm's reach, the orb ignited in deep amber, like smoldering metal. His hand came forward. Not gently—like he was challenging it.
And the moment he connected—
The air roared.
A blast of sound ripped through the courtyard, tossing petals in every direction. The glyph above his hand surged with harsh, angular lines—force and fracture, built for damage, not beauty.
The orb screamed back in bronze firelight. And just like that—it was done.
Kaelen pulled away, chest heaving, eyes glowing dimly with leftover flame.
The instructors watched in silence.
Someone in the crowd muttered,
"Too violent. That one's not stable."
Zephryn turned toward the voice, but Selka put a hand on his arm. Just once.
He said nothing.
Yolti approached.
Soft steps. Careful breath.
But the orb seemed to warm as she neared. Like it recognized kindness in her bones.
She touched it with both hands.
A gentle pulse flared across the stone in cool seafoam green, then layered with sky-silver, and finally a flash of pale gold. Her glyph expanded and curled like blooming vines across her wrist—not loud, not wild, but full of life.
The petals fell in perfect rhythm around her.
Even the crowd couldn't hide their murmurs of awe.
She pulled away, smiling faintly—like the orb had sung to her and she'd sung back.
Then came a pause.
A longer one.
The crowd stilled.
Because the name now whispered by the orb itself—
Was Zephryn's.