The halls of the Veilguard academy were unlike anything Kai had ever seen. Towering stone arches pulsed faintly with Qi, ancient runes etched into the walls glowed softly, and the air itself hummed with pressure—like the heartbeat of some living thing beneath the earth. Every step Kai took down the corridor made him feel more awake, more alive, like he had stepped into a world that had always been waiting for him.
Master Xian led him through the main training compound, silent but watchful. His black armor clinked softly, the sword on his back covered in fine chains and glowing seals.
They reached a large obsidian door marked with a golden sigil of a dragon swallowing a star. Xian placed his palm on it, and with a whisper of energy, it opened.
Inside was a chamber that looked more like a throne room than a training ground. A massive circular platform floated in midair, surrounded by glowing rings. Carved statues of ancient cultivators stood at the edge, each holding a different weapon—spear, sword, glaive, bow, and some that Kai couldn't even recognize. Each figure radiated a pressure that made his knees lock.
"This is the Trial Platform," Master Xian said. "All new recruits of the Veilguard take their first step here. But for you, this is more than a test—it's a spark."
Kai swallowed hard. "A spark?"
Xian turned toward him. "You've awakened your Qi. But your body is still locked in its old shape. This trial will push your meridians to open fully. It's painful. It's dangerous. Many fail. Some… break."
Kai looked up at the glowing platform. The air shimmered around it, like heat waves rising from stone.
"I won't break," he said softly. "Not again."
A flicker of pride crossed Xian's face. "Then step forward. Let's see what you're made of."
The moment Kai set foot on the Trial Platform, everything changed.
He was no longer in a room—but in a void filled with drifting lights and pulsing sounds. The platform beneath him had vanished. In its place was a sea of shifting energy, like a storm made of color and sound. It pressed against his skin, into his chest, pulling at something deep inside.
Suddenly, pain struck.
Not the sharp, surface kind—but the deep, tearing sensation of something ancient awakening inside him. His veins burned. His bones shivered. His lungs felt too small for his breath.
His meridians.
They were being forced open.
He screamed—but no sound came out. The space around him didn't allow it. Instead, the energy storm roared louder, matching his agony.
Visions danced in the chaos. Faces. Moments. His father handing him a broken compass. His mother kneeling by the fire, mending his robe. Ting laughing in the rain. His sister handing him a peach with both hands.
Then—the betrayal.
The girl. The knife. The laughter of the bullies.
His Qi surged in response, wild and angry.
But then—he remembered something else.
Hope.
The look in his sister's eyes when he told her bedtime stories. The tired warmth in his father's voice when he said, "I believe in you, even if no one else does."
Those fragments became anchors. He reached inward—not to fight the storm, but to embrace it.
I'm still here, he thought. You didn't kill me. I'm still standing.
Suddenly, a pulse rippled through him. One of his meridians—blocked since birth—snapped open like a dam breaking.
Then another.
Then another.
The pain faded into fire. The chaos became clarity.
The storm began to recede.
When Kai opened his eyes, he was back in the chamber—collapsed on one knee, gasping for air. His robes were soaked with sweat, and the platform behind him was dim and quiet.
Master Xian knelt beside him.
"You opened five meridians," he said, voice unreadable. "No one's done that in their first trial. Not in decades."
Kai looked down at his hands. They didn't tremble anymore.
"I felt… everything," he said. "Like I was tearing apart and coming back together."
Xian nodded. "That is the beginning of true cultivation."
Then he handed Kai a thin crystal disk, etched with silver.
"Your trial also revealed your affinity."
Kai blinked. "Affinity?"
"Some cultivators are born with elemental ties. Most never awaken them. Yours came through strong."
Kai took the disk. It pulsed with twin colors—shadow and lightning.
"Rare combination," Xian said. "Lightning is force, speed, destruction. Shadow is silence, misdirection, control. Together… they're a paradox."
Kai grinned, even though his body still ached. "Sounds like me."
Xian cracked the ghost of a smile. "Come. You'll rest tonight. Tomorrow, you begin real training. Martial arts. Weapon forging. Mental discipline. Cultivation of the body, mind, and spirit. You're no longer a spectator, Kai."
As they left the chamber, Kai looked back at the platform.
The trial had changed him—but not just physically.
Something deeper had awakened.
A voice that whispered:
No fame. No fate. Just me.
Later that night, in a quiet dorm built into the cliffs beside the academy, Kai lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The air smelled faintly of metal and incense. Outside the open window, lightning flashed in the distance, far beyond the mountains.
He held the crystal disk in his hand, watching the glow shift between shadow and light.
For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like he was chasing someone else's path.
This one was his.
And it had only just begun.