The discovery of the cold, furtive energy beneath the old watchtower became a quiet obsession for Velian. Now nine, his Mana Sense—still ranked 'Basic' by the System—had grown increasingly refined through constant, almost unconscious use. He no longer had to focus to perceive the auras and mana flows around him; it was becoming second nature, as instinctive as feeling the wind on his skin or smelling the salt of the sea.
Several times a week, drawn by a persistent curiosity, he would find himself near the crumbling tower. Sitting in silence, he extended his Mana Sense toward the fissure in the foundation. The cold thread of energy was always there—a stark contrast to the warm, vibrant pulse of the nearby earth magic node. It felt ancient, deeply dormant, yet carried that unsettling flicker of awareness he had first sensed.
He attempted to "speak" to it with his mind, as he sometimes did with the star songs, but it gave no reply beyond that faint, chilling throb. He described it to Elara in greater detail."It feels... like a very old secret, Mama," he said one afternoon, brow furrowed. "And it's a little sad. Like it's been alone for a really long time."
Elara, listening intently, felt a shiver crawl up her spine despite the warm sunlight streaming into the library."Some secrets are best left undisturbed, Velian," she said gently, though his words stirred something in her scholar's heart. She made a mental note to search the Azuris archives for any mention of the watchtower's deeper history—anything that might predate the keep itself.
Velian's training in Lesser Telekinesis continued under Kaelen's guidance. He could now lift objects weighing several pounds with relative ease and manipulate them with impressive finesse. Kaelen had even begun teaching him how the ability might be used defensively—not to harm, but to deflect or disarm. He tossed soft leather balls at Velian, who practiced batting them away with telekinetically controlled wooden shields no larger than dinner plates.
[Lesser Telekinesis (Rank F) proficiency increased. Control +5%, Precision +3%.][Mana expenditure for sustained use slightly reduced.]
The System's notifications were encouraging, but Kaelen knew they were nearing the limits of what he could teach. Velian's innate talent was like a powerful spring, and Kaelen felt he was merely showing him how to tap a trickle from it.
The "Ignition Sequence" for the Star-Forged Core remained the looming problem. Elara's research had uncovered more warnings than solutions. The few texts that dared detail the process spoke of needing a "catalyst of immense celestial purity" or a "perfectly attuned resonant chamber"—things far beyond the means of a minor noble house.
"The risk of Celestial Dissonance is too great," Elara declared one evening, as she and Kaelen sat by the fire after Velian had gone to bed. "The scrolls describe it as a spiritual shattering, where the nascent Core, if improperly ignited, either consumes the soul or unleashes uncontrolled chaos. We cannot, must not, attempt this alone."
Kaelen nodded, his face grim."I've been making discreet inquiries, through contacts I still trust from before... before I inherited Azuris." He sighed, the weight of duty heavy in his voice. "Word travels slowly. Most of the renowned Academies are in the central provinces, a world away. And finding a true Celestial Attunement Master? Rarer than dragon's teeth—so the stories say."
"Master Valerius mentioned the Grand Astral Lyceum once," Elara recalled. "He said it still studies the deeper celestial arts, though even there, true mastery is scarce."
"The Lyceum," Kaelen repeated, tasting the name. "It's a legend. And notoriously difficult to enter—even for those with powerful backing. For a boy from a minor house on the remote coast, no matter how gifted..." He looked at his wife, troubled. "But what choice do we have, Elara? Keep him here, let his potential stagnate—or worse, grow wild and untamed? That's another kind of danger entirely."
The dilemma cast a constant, unspoken shadow. They saw Velian's light—his extraordinary promise—but they also saw the unknown dangers that followed one so unique.
Velian, though not fully aware of their fears, sensed the shift. He saw the furrowed lines on his mother's brow when she thought he wasn't watching. He noticed the way his father sometimes stared out to sea, lost in thought. His deep intuition told him his future weighed heavily on their minds.
His Mana Sense continued to sharpen. He began noticing subtle differences in ambient mana across the keep. The library, rich with ancient scrolls and knowledge, held a denser, more intricate feel than the open battlements. The forge, even cold, echoed faintly with heat and elemental power.
One day, he accompanied Kaelen to the small inland village a few miles from Azuris Keep—a rare excursion. As they walked through the modest marketplace, Velian's Mana Sense was nearly overwhelmed. The mingled auras of people, the lingering energies on traded goods, the pulsing vitality of a living community—it was a chaotic contrast to the quiet of the keep.
He observed a village healer—an elderly woman whose aura radiated warm green and earthy brown—as she soothed a child's scraped knee. He saw a blacksmith, his aura blazing orange-red, hammering glowing metal with sparks of power flying. These weren't "mages" as Elara's scrolls described, but they interacted with energy all the same.
[Mana Sense (Rank F) proficiency increased. Environmental Acclimation +2%. Aura Differentiation +4%.]
The experience opened his eyes. The world was wider, deeper, more varied than he had ever imagined. The thought of the Grand Astral Lyceum, that distant place of higher learning Valerius had once mentioned, stirred something in him—a flicker of yearning.
That evening, he found Elara studying a star chart—the one Valerius had shown him, with the Key of Andaros.
"Mama," he asked softly, "are there other children like me? Children who hear star songs… or see the world breathe?"
Elara looked at him, her expression tender."I believe there must be, sweetling. The world is vast, and magic takes many forms. Perhaps not quite like you—for your gifts are… special. But others walk similar paths." She paused. "The Lyceum we speak of… it's a place where such children—and adults—gather to learn."
"Would I... would I ever go there?" Velian whispered.
Elara knelt, taking his small hands in hers. Her sea-blue aura pulsed gently."Your father and I want what's best for you, Velian. We want you to be safe—and to understand all that you are. If that means seeking distant teachers... then it's a path we must consider."
The unspoken truth lingered: that time might come sooner than they hoped.
A few days later, Velian returned to the old watchtower. He extended his Mana Sense toward the fissure. The cold, furtive energy remained. But this time, as he focused, something changed—a faint, almost inaudible whisper brushed against his mind. It wasn't words, more like a sigh of great weariness. And with it came a fleeting image, dreamlike: a vast, shadowed form curled in eternal slumber.
[Unknown Energy Signature: Dormant Awareness Confirmed. Nature: Undetermined (Caution Advised).]
The image faded. The whisper vanished. But Velian was left with a deep, aching sense of sorrow... and the prickling edge of fear. This was no mere earth node. It was something else. Something sleeping. Something that might awaken.
He ran back to the keep, heart pounding, the weight of the lingering shadow beneath the tower pressing heavier than ever before. The world beyond was calling, with its promises of understanding and guidance—but the shadows within his own domain were deepening just as swiftly.