As the days shortened and frost began to bite the edges of the morning grass, the sect's tempo shifted. The elders grew quieter, more watchful. Third-generation disciples whispered of the coming assessment—a test that would determine who among us would advance, who would remain, and who would be sent away.
I had heard the rumors before. This time, they felt heavier. More real.
Dan brought it up first, halfway through lunch beneath the red pines.
"They say it happens under the moon," he said, mouth full of rice. "Four challenges. Sword, movement, qi, and endurance."
So-Yeon scoffed. "What they say and what actually happens are often far apart. Still... it's coming. I can feel it."
I said nothing. Not because I wasn't listening—but because I'd already begun preparing.
Each night, I descended into the cavern, water basin reflecting a vision that grew more vivid with every session. The black-barked tree, its leaves shedding silver light. The sword—closer now, always closer.
It began to call to me. Not in words, but in weight. I'd begun to feel it in my bones, like iron slowly fusing into marrow.
But cultivation wasn't just vision. It was practice. Breath. Repetition.
And so, I trained.
So-Yeon taught me pivoting footwork between sparring sessions. She had me carry buckets filled with sand up and down the stairs to the southern shrine—blindfolded.
Dan challenged me to brute-force drills. He made me hold a stance for hours while he swung his hammer near my shoulders, daring me to flinch. I didn't. Not anymore.
And Elder Sun… he simply watched.
One morning, as I sat beside the stream, letting my breath rise and fall with the water's rhythm, he appeared beside me. He didn't speak at first.
Then, quietly: "Cultivation begins in the dantian. But it roots in your choices. Your habits. The discipline between moments. That's where strength truly lives."
I didn't respond. I didn't need to. I understood.
Later that week, a bell rang across Mount Hwa.
Not the alarm bell, but one deeper. Older.
Disciples paused mid-practice. Elders looked to the sky.
"The First Gate," someone whispered. "It's time."
Dan grinned wide. "Finally."
So-Yeon cracked her knuckles. "Let's see what we've become."
I looked up at the clouds parting above the mountain peaks. Something shifted in my chest—not fear. Not excitement.
Resolve.
The first test was near. Whatever lay behind that gate, I would face it. With sword, breath, and the steady fire building quietly beneath my skin.
No more drifting.
It was time to walk forward.