Kael tightened his eyelids as the sunlight spilled across his face. Instinctively, he raised a hand to shield his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips. For a moment, he was content to linger in the hazy realm between sleep and waking, but then something clicked. His eyes snapped open.
He pushed himself up from the desk, his gaze turning toward the window, where the sun hung high in the sky.
'Almost twelve hours?'
His fingers brushed against his neck and shoulders, instinctively testing for the familiar stiffness and dull aches that usually followed after a refinement attempt. But there was nothing. No soreness, no fatigue, just an odd sense of clarity, his body feeling light, almost invigorated.
His eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of confusion settling in.
"Don't I feel a little too good?"
He murmured to himself, his voice a quiet echo in the still room.
Pushing his sleeves back, he flexed his fingers, clenched and unclenched his fists, twisted his neck from side to side. Every movement was smooth, without the slightest hint of resistance. Even the ache he had grown used to in his shoulder was gone.
'This is... odd. Did the refinement do something?'
His thoughts turned back to the newly refined mote, the small stone coffin now resting within his inner realm. Could it have had an effect on his body? Or was there something else at play?
'Weird... It should just be a storage-type mote. Does it affect my body somehow, like the Titanwood Stalker mote?'
Kael didn't hesitate. He split a part of his consciousness and slipped into his inner realm.
The moment he appeared, a blinding white light washed over him, the usual void around him now brighter, almost radiant. He instinctively raised a hand, squinting against the overwhelming brilliance. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust, but soon enough, the light became bearable.
Ahead of him, the familiar sight of the colossal red river, his Will, swirled in the open space, a raging current of crimson energy twisting and churning in defiance of gravity or reason.
'Something's off... but I can't quite put my finger on it.'
He began walking, his footsteps soundless against the endless white void. The river loomed closer with each step, its massive, twisting flow filling his field of vision. Standing before it, Kael seemed no larger than a bird before a mountain. The sheer scale of it was awe-inspiring.
Despite being the source of his own will, the river had an aura of something grand and majestic. It floated freely in the void, unchained by any law of nature, an existence unto itself. Yet today, there was a sense of... intensity, a pulse, a deeper radiance that seemed to hum beneath the surface.
'Something's changed... but what?'
He reached out, letting his fingertips hover just above the raging surface. The crimson current twisted and pulsed, almost as if responding to his presence.
Was it more... alive?
His gaze narrowed.
'This is different. Did the new mote somehow enhance it? Or did the refinement process affect me more than I thought?'
But the river remained silent, its relentless flow indifferent to his questions.
Kael gave a mental command, and a stream of crimson peeled away from the colossal river, snaking through the air before pooling into a swirling sphere in front of him. With another subtle nudge of his will, the sphere compressed, stretching and expanding into a thin, hovering square of red light.
"Interesting."
Arms crossed, Kael leaned in, his gaze locked onto the square. Within the red plane, silver specs shimmered and drifted. Each one a single thought, moving and twisting like tiny stars caught in a current.
'Is my inner realm able to hold more thoughts than before?' He tilted his head slightly. 'They seem denser than usual.'
This was his method, his way of measuring his own thoughts. Each silver spec represented a fragment of his mind, a single thought, and by observing their density and behavior within his will, he could gauge his mental capacity.
Sure, he could read an abstract number if he concentrated. He had done that before. But numbers alone felt disconnected, abstract. This method allowed him to see it, to feel it. There were probably far more sophisticated ways to measure one's thoughts, methods taught in noble families or ancient schools of thought. But Kael was self-taught.
This would have to be sufficient for now.
'But why the change?'
He let his fingers trace through the red square, watching how the silver specs scattered at his touch before naturally realigning.
'Whatever the case, I need to test this further. If my thought capacity has increased, this changes things.'
Kael's gaze remained steady, his expression cold and unreadable. More thoughts meant more power. More endurance in battle. More precision in refinement.
He dismissed his will, and it shattered instantly, dissolving back into the swirling crimson river. With a silent command, the river surged once more, peeling away and coalescing into a dense sphere in his palm.
Fragments of the surrounding white void—his very soul—drifted from the emptiness, merging with the sphere of will and thoughts in his grasp. The swirling mass condensed, shifting and solidifying. Before long, a mote emerged, hovering gently above his palm.
"Stone Coffin mote."
A faint sense of ease settled over Kael's heart as he studied the mote floating in front of him. He hadn't expected the refinement process to be easy, but he would be lying if he said he thought it would take four attempts to succeed. Even so, the struggle only made this moment more satisfying.
Now that the mote was secured within his inner realm, a subtle understanding of it had surfaced within his mind.
'Impressive for a rank one mote, to say the least.'
He turned the mote over in his palm, letting his thoughts wander. The decision to refine a storage-type mote hadn't been random. With the world growing more uncertain and nowhere left he could truly call home, he needed a way to remain untethered.
A store-type mote allowed him to carry all his belongings wherever he went, making his home wherever he stood. A sense of security within insecurity.
He wasn't able to enter the Stone Coffin but he could sense it, Kael estimated that if he walked straight from one end to the other, it would take around five minutes. The height inside matched that of a towering tree. Satisfied, he dismissed the mote, pulling his consciousness back to the waking world.
He stood up, stretching his arms, and started toward the kitchen. Strangely enough, he felt unusually refreshed, almost invigorated. It was a good feeling, the kind worth celebrating with a decent meal.
Syleena was already at the table, sketchbook in hand, her pencil moving silently across the page. The quiet rustle of graphite against paper filled the room. As Kael stepped into the kitchen, she glanced up at him, her eyebrows drawing together slightly.
"Why aren't you suppressing your Luminaire aura?"
Kael's steps halted. His eyes widened at her comment.
'Not suppressing it? What does she mean? I'm sure I'm suppressing my aura like I always do.'
Dumbstruck, he stared at her, a faint chill running down his spine.
He quickly collected himself and responded, his tone calm and steady.
"It's tiresome."
It wasn't entirely the truth, but it wasn't a lie either. Suppressing one's Luminaire aura was essentially suppressing one's own soul, a constant act of restraint. It was a cold, stifling feeling, like trying to smother a flame without extinguishing it. It was only natural that many Luminaires who mastered this skill didn't always bother to maintain it.
Syleena looked at him with a slightly doubtful expression, but she shrugged it off.
"Fair enough."
Already used to Kael's presence and his often cryptic answers, she didn't press further. She returned to her sketchbook, the quiet scratch of pencil against paper filling the room again.
Kael stepped over to the counter, grabbed a few vegetables, and began chopping them. His movements were calm, almost methodical, but beneath that calm facade, his thoughts raced.
'Why was she able to sense my Luminaire aura? Has she gained a new sensory mote? No, that doesn't make sense. Not only would she never reveal it so casually, but her question alone suggests ignorance. Could it be me? Am I not able to suppress it anymore? Not even if I try?'
His fingers tightened slightly on the knife, the edge pressing down against the cutting board.
'No. I was suppressing it just a moment ago. I was sure of it. So what changed? Could it be the mote I refined? Is it affecting my soul in some way? But it's just a storage-type mote, it shouldn't have any direct impact on my aura.'
The rhythmic sound of the knife meeting the board continued. Despite the uncertainty twisting within him, his expression remained a cold, unreadable mask.
Then, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his eyes widened.
He split his consciousness and plunged into his inner realm. Darkness gave way to a white void, and the familiar crimson river of his will twisted and swirled before him. But Kael wasn't focused on the river itself. No, this time he shut his eyes within the realm, forcing his mind to stretch beyond the obvious. He strained, pushing his focus to the very edges of his being.
His soul. His will. His thoughts. Each one became clear, a vast network that pulsed with a silent, constant rhythm. He could feel it all, the motes resting within his inner realm, the silver specs of his thoughts resting within his river of will, the river his will itself swirling endlessly.
And then it struck him. A sense of clarity so sharp it felt like cold steel pressed against his neck.
"I've advanced a rank."
The words left his lips, but even as he spoke them, they felt distant, almost surreal. He stood there, frozen in place, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze fixed on the colossal river of will before him, its swirling currents casting a crimson light on his face.
For a moment, his mind was a storm of racing thoughts, colliding and fracturing against one another. Yet at the same time, it was completely blank, a void of disbelief. His heart pounded like a drum.
'How? How did this happen? I didn't cultivate. I didn't meditate. I didn't even sense the breakthrough. Was it the mote? Was it the refinement? Or was it… something else?'
Seconds felt like hours as Kael stood there, the weight of his realization settling over him like a crushing wave.
Slowly he started to piece everything together.
If he had truly advanced, then everything made sense. His soul shone with an unusual brilliance because it had genuinely grown stronger. Kael was painfully aware of his own ignorance when it came to the field of advancing as a Luminaire. His knowledge was pieced together from scattered books he had stumbled upon over the years, fragments of wisdom far and few between. But even with his limited understanding, he knew a few fundamentals.
Advancing as a Luminaire meant a transformation of the soul. It grew firmer, its presence more pronounced. One's will flowed with greater intensity, its current surging like a river gaining strength. And most importantly, the reservoir of thoughts a Luminaire could store would expand significantly.
His gaze swept over his inner realm, and the changes were undeniable. The silver specs of his thoughts were denser, more vibrant, and their numbers had surged. Where once he could only store 250 thousand thoughts, now that limit had been pushed to a staggering 300 thousand.
The crimson river of his will swirled with greater force, its current moving with a deliberate, almost relentless energy. And the white void, his soul shone truly noticeably brighter than it used to.
'It really did happen,' he thought, a mix of awe and caution settling over him.
But beneath the satisfaction of growth was a quiet, gnawing uncertainty.
Kael's thoughts raced, his mind a maze of possibilities and contradictions. As far as he knew, advancing as a Luminaire was a result of deepening one's understanding of their pathway. But Kael? He hadn't even fully grasped which pathway he truly belonged to. He was like a traveler wandering in a dense fog, guided only by fragmented insights.
'Did I advance because I gained a deeper understanding of refinement?' he wondered. 'But that doesn't make sense. That would make me a Luminaire of the refinement pathway. Yet my soulbound motes… they don't fit that pathway. Or do they?'
Doubt settled over him like a heavy mist. His soulbound motes. The motes he that had appeared for him upon awakening, were the Golden Pea and the Obsidian Shard. Each one was unique, each one different, but did they truly align with a single pathway?
'Obsidian Shard… that could be from the refinement pathway,' he reasoned. 'Its ability to understand and manipulate materials during refinement would fit perfectly. But then, what about the Golden Pea? What purpose does it serve? What pathway does it belong to?'
His mind churned. The possibility of a split pathway crossed his thoughts, but that was unheard of. Luminaires followed a single path, their soulbound motes a reflection of that path's essence. Yet here he was, standing on the edge of two entirely different paths.
'Is that even possible? A Luminaire with two pathways? Or am I simply missing something crucial?'
The crimson river of his will swirled before him, silent but relentless, its current stronger than ever. Was there something within himself he hadn't yet understood?
He couldn't figure it out, so he pushed the swirling thoughts aside, choosing instead to focus on what he did understand.
'If I advanced, then it makes sense why Syleena noticed my Luminaire aura.'
Kael had, in fact, been suppressing his aura… or at least, he thought he had. But with his soul having grown so significantly upon advancing, his ability to mask his presence was now insufficient. He was only able to suppress it to the level of his previous rank, making it appear as though he was a rank one Luminaire who wasn't bothering to hide his aura at all.
'That explains it. But it's also safe to assume Syleena didn't notice my advancement from her reaction.'
Advancing a rank was no trivial matter. Many Luminaires spent entire lifetimes studying ancient texts, practicing techniques, and meditating on philosophy, all in a desperate struggle to take a single step forward. For some, reaching rank two was an impossible dream, a mountain they would never climb.
If Syleena had known he had advanced, she wouldn't have been able to react so casually. Such a leap was an achievement, a mark of talent, and in some cases, a cause for envy or fear. But she hadn't shown any of that. Just mild curiosity.
'She only thought I was being lazy with my suppression.'
He continued to chop the vegetables in silence, the steady rhythm of the knife against the cutting board. But his mind was anything but still. Thoughts raced like a storm beneath his calm exterior.