he years between five and seven for Velian were a tapestry woven with threads of quiet discovery and subtle, almost imperceptible growth. Azuris Keep, perched on its lonely cliff, became a crucible for his budding talents, with Elara and Kaelen as his devoted—if sometimes bewildered—alchemists. The "listening to the starlight" sessions atop the battlements evolved into a cherished ritual. Under Elara's patient guidance, Velian learned to sink deeper into meditation, his connection to the "star songs" growing steadily more profound.
The passive mana absorption noted by the System had begun to yield tangible results. Though still slender, Velian now possessed wiry strength and an almost unnatural vitality. Scrapes and bruises that would trouble other children vanished overnight. He rarely tired—his boundless energy a constant source of amazement to the household staff, who still whispered tales of the "Star-Child." His senses, too, had sharpened. He could hear the rustle of a mouse in the walls from two rooms away, and spot a hawk circling at heights that reduced it to a mere speck to others.
The faint shimmer Kaelen sometimes glimpsed around Velian had become more consistent after his meditations—a barely-there aura of silvery light that lingered for moments before fading. Too faint for the untrained eye, yet to his parents, it was a visible sign of the celestial energy he was drawing inward.
Elara, poring over ancient texts, uncovered further references to the "Star-Forged Core." It was described not merely as a power reserve, but as an internal constellation—a microcosm of the heavens embedded within the soul. This core needed careful awakening and alignment. The texts warned of danger; to attempt it unguided was akin to navigating storm-tossed seas without a rudder. For now, she focused on strengthening his foundation, trusting his innate connection to guide him more safely than any half-understood ritual.
Meanwhile, Kaelen oversaw Velian's physical development and the budding flickers of telekinetic ability. The armory's wiggling practice foil had only been the start. Ever the pragmatist, Kaelen devised simple exercises—placing small, smooth stones on a table and encouraging Velian to "nudge" them with his mind.
"It's like flexing a muscle you didn't know you had, son," Kaelen would explain, his voice surprisingly patient. "Feel that... tingle? The buzz you felt with the sword? Focus on it. Don't force it—persuade it."
Progress was slow—frustratingly so for a boy as intelligent as Velian. He sensed the potential, a wellspring just beyond conscious grasp. He could make the stones tremble, sometimes slide a fraction of an inch, but sustained, controlled movement remained elusive. The System's notifications were typically variations of:
[Telekinetic Effort Detected. Insufficient Mana Channeling for Sustained Manifestation.][Focus Fluctuating. Mental Discipline Required.]
"It's like trying to catch smoke, Papa," Velian sighed one afternoon, a pebble refusing to do more than quiver. His snow-white hair clung to his brow with perspiration, a rare frown marring his usual serenity.
Kaelen ruffled his hair. "Smoke can be caught, Velian—if you understand how it moves. And you have more than smoke inside you. You have starlight. Be patient. The strength is there. You just need to learn its language."
One blustery afternoon, nearing Velian's seventh birthday, he stood in the small courtyard with Kaelen. His father was practicing sword forms, his blade a blur of silver against the gray sky. Velian watched, captivated by the effortless blend of power and grace. Kaelen finished a complex sequence with a downward slash that stopped inches above the packed earth.
"One day, you'll learn this too," Kaelen said, breathing heavily, pride softening his features.
Velian eyed the heavy practice sword. It seemed impossibly large. "It's very big, Papa."
"It is," Kaelen agreed. "But strength isn't just in muscle. It's how you direct your will, your energy. Remember the stones?"
Velian nodded. His gaze shifted from the sword to a loose cobblestone a few feet away. He recalled the "star songs"—that warm resonance that sometimes bloomed in his chest during meditation. He remembered Kaelen's words: persuade it.
He closed his eyes—not in strain, but gently, as though listening. He reached inward, not toward the stone itself, but to the feeling of it—its stillness, its weight. He imagined a silver thread of starlight extending from his mind, brushing against the stone and nudging it, gently.
He didn't feel a buzz or tingle this time. He felt... a connection. A subtle give, like a latch opening.
When he opened his eyes, the cobblestone had rolled a full foot, stopping against the courtyard wall.
Kaelen, who'd turned to wipe his brow, turned back just in time to see the stone settle. His jaw dropped. He looked at Velian—whose eyes were wide not with surprise, but dawning understanding.
[Minor Telekinetic Manifestation Achieved!][Skill Unlocked: Lesser Telekinesis (Rank F)][Description: Ability to move small, light objects (up to 1 lb) within close proximity (5 ft) through focused mental effort. Mana Cost: Low. Efficiency: Very Low.][First Active Skill Acquired! Cultivation Path Broadening.]
The glyphs shimmered before Velian's eyes—brighter and more intricate than any he'd seen before. He gasped—not in fear, but in exhilaration.
"Papa! I did it! The words… they say I learned a skill! 'Lesser Telekinesis'!" He bounced on the balls of his feet, his usual composure forgotten in the thrill of the moment. "It says I can move things!"
Kaelen stared between the stone and his radiant son, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across his face. He strode over and swept Velian into a hug, laughing. "You did it, son! You truly did it! By the All-Mother, there's starlight in your veins for sure!"
The breakthrough was profound. It was Velian's first active skill—a conscious use of his innate gift, now validated and categorized by the System. It marked the opening of a new dimension in his training. Kaelen's notion of "persuasion" now had a framework.
Elara was overjoyed, though her happiness came tempered with caution. "This is wonderful, Velian—truly. But remember: power must always be guided by wisdom," she said, gently stroking his hair. "Use it carefully. Learn its boundaries."
"Lesser Telekinesis" was, as described, limited. Moving a one-pound object a few feet wasn't extraordinary. But for Velian, it was everything. Proof. A key. He practiced relentlessly under Kaelen's watchful eye—moving pebbles, then small blocks, even his wooden cup at dinner, much to the cook's alarm and later grudging approval.
His control slowly improved. The System occasionally offered encouraging feedback:
[Lesser Telekinesis: Efficiency increased by 0.1%. Finer control developing.]
Or:
[Mana expenditure for Lesser Telekinesis slightly reduced. Practice yields results.]
He discovered that prolonged use caused mental fatigue—leaving him with a dull ache if he pushed too hard. He learned that emotions affected control; frustration made objects wobble, while calm focus yielded smoother motion. These were the first crucial lessons in the discipline mastery required.
As his seventh year closed, Velian was no longer merely absorbing starlight—he was beginning to interact with it. The "Star-Forged Core" remained a distant dream, the "Celestial Meridians" still largely unknown, but the first stirrings of his true power were undeniable. He could hear the songs of the stars—and now, he could make the stones dance to their tune, however slight the motion.
Kaelen and Elara knew that the confines of Azuris Keep—and their limited knowledge—would eventually prove too narrow. The world beyond held academies, masters, dangers, and opportunities they could scarcely imagine. But for now, they had given their Star-Child his first tools, his first glimpse into the depths of his gift. The foundation wasn't just laid—the first stones were firmly in place. And Velian, eyes sky-blue and brimming with new power, looked eagerly to the next layer.