The Pull of the Stone
It happened late one night, just after a storm.
Jeremy lay in the small bed Merina had built for him, the covers tucked tight around his shoulders. Rain tapped lightly against the window now, but the storm's fury had passed. Still, Jeremy couldn't sleep. His body ached from the day's training — every muscle tender — but his mind buzzed with restless energy.
He reached for the Eversoul Stone at his chest, absently rubbing its smooth surface.
It pulsed almost lifelike under his fingertips.
Startled, Jeremy sat up.
The pulsing grew stronger — slow, steady, almost like a heartbeat.
Curious, he closed his eyes and focused.
The moment he did, he felt it: a tugging sensation in his core, as if something inside him were being drawn outward.
Before he could resist, the world tilted.
He was falling.
The Mist World
When Jeremy opened his eyes, he was somewhere else entirely. He was back in the mist world he traveled to before.
Mist blanketed everything — thick, swirling tendrils that clung to his skin and dampened sound.
Above him, two suns burned in a pale violet sky. Their light was diffuse, ethereal, casting no true shadows.
Before him stretched a spiraling staircase made of floating stone platforms. They wound upward into the mist until they disappeared.
A voice echoed all around him — ancient and deep, like the groaning of mountains:
"Strength is not given. It is forged.
Climb, child.
Face yourself."
Jeremy swallowed hard, fear rising in his throat.
This is the second time ive come here. It must be a dream, he thought.
And yet — everything felt too real.
The roughness of the stone beneath his bare feet. The chill of the mist. The weight of the Eversoul Stone against his chest.
No — this was no dream.
This was a test. Another one like the first. He had entered a space inside the stone. He had entered the Mist World.
The First Steps
Jeremy hesitated at the base of the stairs.
Above him, the spiral seemed endless.
He clenched his fists.
Talon believes in me. Merina believes in me. I can't turn back now.
He placed one foot on the first platform.
It held.
He climbed.
Step after step after step.
At first, it was easy — merely tiring.
But after only a few dozen steps, his legs burned, his breath came ragged, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
Worse, the mist began to change.
It twisted into shapes — memories.
He came to a large stone monolith that had Steele Of Three Trials etched deep into it. Jermery placed his hands on the steele and it vanished instantly.
The First Trial: The Funeral
Jeremy stumbled as the mist ahead of him shifted.
Suddenly, he was back in the funeral home.
The scent of lilies and cold stone filled his nose.
There, in the open caskets, lay his parents.
Still.
Silent.
Gone.
Around him, the murmur of voices: teachers, neighbors, strangers — all whispering.
"Such a shame."
"Poor boy."
"Alone now."
Jeremy's chest constricted.
He wanted to scream. To run.
Instead, he forced himself forward.
One step. Then another.
The funeral faded behind him, but not before he heard a final whisper:
"You'll never be whole again."
The words clung to him like thorns.
The Second Trial: The Drowning
Higher he climbed.
The mist thickened.
This time, it coalesced into the lake.
Jeremy saw himself — smaller, scared — thrashing in the dark water.
The football players' laughter echoed in the distance.
"No," Jeremy whispered.
He didn't want to see this again.
But the scene repeated — over and over — until Jeremy's legs buckled and he fell to his knees on the stone.
I'm not that boy anymore.
He dug his fingers into the stone, trembling.
"I survived you," he said through gritted teeth.
The vision shattered.
Jeremy rose again, dizzy but determined.
The Third Trial: Himself
The steps grew narrower now, the climb steeper.
Jeremy was gasping, legs trembling.
The mist thickened until it formed himself.
Another Jeremy stood before him — identical in every way, except that this one sneered.
"You don't belong here," the doppelgänger said. "You're weak. Broken."
"I know," Jeremy whispered.
The false-Jeremy laughed cruelly. "You'll never be strong enough. They'll leave you behind."
Jeremy closed his eyes.
He thought of Merina's quiet kindness. Talon's gruff encouragement. The warmth of the farmhouse. The solid feel of the earth beneath his feet when he trained.
I'm not perfect, he thought. But I'm not broken either.
He opened his eyes — and punched the false-Jeremy in the chest.
The image shattered like glass.
Jeremy stumbled forward — and found himself on the final platform.
The Root of Endurance
At the summit stood a massive stone tree — white and crystalline, its branches stretching endlessly into the mist.
The voice boomed again:
"You have climbed.
You have endured.
Take your first root."
A glowing tendril extended from the tree, wrapping around Jeremy's wrist.
He gasped as a mark seared itself into his skin: a curling, intricate pattern resembling roots and leaves.
Strength flooded into him — not physical strength, but something deeper.
A sense of belonging.
A core of willpower he could call upon.
He had earned the first gift of the Eversoul Stone:
The Root of Endurance.
Awakening
Jeremy's eyes snapped open.
He was back in his bed — but he was changed.
He sat up, breathless.
The Eversoul Stone still pulsed against his chest, but its glow was softer now, content.
He rolled up his sleeve and stared at the where mark on his forearm was. He could still sense it but it no longer remained on the surface like a tattoo visible to others but seemed to have embedded itself under the skin. Though others couldn't see it he knew it was there and it was real.
Real.
Permanent.
He could feel it — a reservoir of strength he hadn't had before.
A determination that no one — no bully, no memory, no fear — could strip away.
Jeremy rose, feeling lighter somehow.
Stronger.
Whole.
The First Test
Talon noticed the change immediately the next morning.
They were sparring as usual — Jeremy dodging blows, parrying clumsily.
But today, when Talon feinted and swung low, Jeremy reacted.
He shifted his weight, balanced perfectly, and counterattacked — driving Talon back two steps.
For a heartbeat, Talon looked startled.
Then he laughed — a full, booming laugh that echoed across the fields.
"Good!" he barked. "Again!"
They fought harder after that, Jeremy sweating, straining — but not faltering.
Each time he wanted to collapse, he touched the Root of Endurance inside him and pushed forward.
At last, Talon called a halt.
"You're ready," he said.
"Ready for what?" Jeremy panted.
Talon grinned.
"The Ironwood Academy entrance trials."
A Promise
That night, Jeremy sat by the lake again, the twin moons reflecting in the still water.
He clutched the Eversoul Stone and whispered:
"I don't know what's waiting for me."
He closed his eyes.
"But I'll face it. I promise."
A soft breeze stirred the surface of the lake, carrying his words into the night.
The next day Jermey could hardly contain his excitement. Tomorrow he would be going to the academy! His boyish nature on full display as he sported a toothy grin. His smile showed happiness not tinged with sorrow.
The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and fried roots, the kind of warmth that wrapped around a person like a blanket. Rain tapped softly against the windows, a steady rhythm that made the small cottage feel even cozier.
Jeremy sat cross-legged on the bench at the table, his elbows resting on the worn wood, eyes wide and unblinking. "Come on, Talon! You've got to tell me what Ironwood was like. Please? Just one story! Just one!"
Across from him, Talon Graystone leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a bemused grin twitching beneath his scruffy beard. Merina stood by the hearth, stirring the pot with slow, practiced strokes. At Jeremy's desperation, she let out a soft laugh.
"You're like a dog with a bone," she said, smiling.
Jeremy grinned. "I'm just preparing for my future! What if I get sent there and don't know anything? What if I get eaten by a spirit beast because Talon wouldn't tell me what to do?" What if the principal calls and tells you some weird bird flew off with your child?!?
Though his words were filled with comedic effect, Merina's heart prickled with warm at Jermey calling himself her child. Merina had to defend him ans told Talon to tell him something before the poor child collapsed of worry and excitement.
Talon chuckled, then finally sighed and leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Alright, alright. One story. But you better listen close, boy. I don't repeat myself."
Jeremy straightened like a soldier, eyes gleaming. Talon's voice dropped, deep and thoughtful.
"Ironwood was...a world unto itself. Bigger than anything you've ever seen. Even the sky felt different there—like it knew it was watching future legends train. Groupings are divided into three separate classes, and in those classes they are further divided into dorms. Within the dorms you are further divided into pods. Pods are usually 4-5 members and for good or bad those are who you will be with for the duration of your time there until graduation. Iron Class is the lowest and where 90% of freshmen are assigned to, it is for Bronze Beginner to Mid level ranked students.
Then there is the Steel Class for Bronze Master to Silver Beginners and then finally the Titan Class. The Titan Class is for elite students and has the fewest dorms and pods.I started in Steel Class as a freshman. My dorm was dorm five and my pod was High-rank at number one. Because of my ranking I had access to the best gear, the best Qi Wells, first pick of meals, you name it."
Jeremy blinked. "You were ranked *that* high?"
Talon nodded. "Didn't start that way. I was the country bumpkin. Dirt on my boots and no fancy name. City brats tried to knock me down, said I didn't belong. They complained that I couldnt have been that good and was not good enough to sleep and share space with them."
"What happened?"
"I beat them. One by one. Not just in duels—though there were plenty of those—but with integrity. I helped those who fell behind. I trained twice as hard. And eventually, even my enemies respected me."
He paused, smile softening.
"I tasted spirit fruit for the first time at Ironwood. Didn't even know what it was when they gave it to me. Juice so sweet it made me cry. That kind of fruit is rare, Jeremy. Outside the capital, most people will never see it. Even rich families can only buy it in small lots."
Jeremy's mouth opened slightly in awe. "It really makes your cultivation better?"
"Exponentially. It feeds your core, strengthens your channels. That one fruit advanced me farther than a month of training."
Jeremy turned toward Merina. "Did you go to Ironwood too?"
Her stirring slowed.
"No," she said quietly.
Talon's grin returned, lopsided and teasing. "She didn't need to. Merina was recruited by a mage sect."
Jeremy blinked again. "A *sect*? Like the ancient ones in the stories?"
"Exactly like that," Talon said. "They train the best of the best. Their standards make Ironwood look like a village dojo."
Jeremy turned excitedly back to Merina. "That's amazing! What was it like? What did you learn?"
But her expression had turned unreadable. She looked into the pot as if it held her past.
"Enough," she said softly. "It's not a time I like to dwell on."
Talon's gaze softened. He ruffled Jeremy's hair. "She was even more talented than me. And smarter, too. I only beat her once, and that was because she let me."
Merina shot him a look, half-warning, half-amused. "That's enough talk about the past. Come help me with the bowls."
---
That night, Jeremy lay beneath his quilt, the flicker of the hearth's dying embers casting faint shadows on the walls. He was still thinking about Merina's face when he had asked about her school. There had been pain there. Real pain.
A knock on the doorframe stirred him.
"Still awake?" Merina whispered.
Jeremy sat up. "Yeah."
She stepped inside, kneeling by the edge of his bed. In her hands, she held a small stone charm—a warding talisman of carved wood and iron.
"You'll be at Ironwood soon," she said, brushing his bangs from his forehead. "And you'll learn fast that strength rules this world. Power determines who eats, who suffers, who lives."
Jeremy nodded slowly. "That's why I have to be strong. Like Talon. Like you."
Her eyes shimmered.
"Yes, but don't forget this, Jeremy—" her voice trembled, barely above a whisper, "—let kindness guide your heart. Strength without kindness becomes cruelty. And I wasn't taught that lesson until too late."
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "You are pure. Stay that way as long as you can."
She turned to leave, but paused just outside the door.
In the hush of night, Jeremy could hear her whispering to herself.
"Please… don't let my child learn the hard way. Not like me. Not through the lives I've taken and destroyed."
The door creaked closed.
And Jeremy lay there, eyes wide open, heart aching for reasons he didn't fully understand.
But one thing settled in his spirit like stone:
He would go to Ironwood.
And he would remember who he was.