Aeryn did not sleep that night.
How could he? The words had lodged themselves into his mind like thorns.
Now it had spoken.
He sat on the balcony outside his assigned quarters, staring at the celestial canopy above Luminar. Threads of astral energy flowed between the great boughs like silver rivers, illuminating the nightscape with a dreamlike glow. Beneath him, the layered platforms of the elven city glimmered faintly as if alive.
The wind was gentle. Soothing. But Aeryn's heart refused to settle.
He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his mind.
Was the System watching because he had accepted the Veil-Reading?
Because he had learned too much?
Or because something inside him had awakened?
He closed his eyes.
"There is still too much I don't understand."
The city around him was peaceful, unaware of the tremors beneath its surface. But Aeryn felt them—changes in his body, his magic, his soul-thread. Even now, a faint rhythm pulsed from deep within him, matching his heartbeat. The System adjusting. Shifting.
Preparing for something.
He felt like a thread being pulled toward a tapestry too vast to comprehend.
But he did not cower. He had made a promise to himself the day he awakened in this world. He would not live as a frightened existence hiding in the shadows. He would grow strong, become reliable, carve his own path—no matter the cost.
So he straightened his posture, inhaled, and let the restlessness flow out with the breath.
Tomorrow would bring answers.
Or new complications.
Likely both.
He would face either without hesitation.
Eventually, fatigue crept in. Aeryn rose and returned to his room. Before lying down, he placed a hand over his chest, feeling the quiet thrum beneath his sternum.
"Whatever you are," he whispered to the System, "I won't let you control me."
The hum pulsed once, almost like acknowledgment.
He didn't know if that reassured or unsettled him.
But it didn't matter.
He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
**
Morning came softly. Dawn light filtered through translucent leaves, bathing the chamber in pale gold. Aeryn woke with a sharper mind, his anxieties tempered by resolve. Today he would begin Veil-training under Lirae Sylith, Keeper of the Veil.
He dressed simply—lightweight robes woven from windspun silk, enchanted to stabilize mana flow. Stepping outside, he found Lirae already waiting on the walkway.
She had changed her robe. Today it gleamed like polished obsidian, thin patterns of astral silver tracing along the edges. Her hair was tied back, exposing the glowing marks on her temples.
"You're punctual," she said coolly.
"You asked me to be prepared."
A faint nod. "Follow me."
They ascended a series of walkways spiraling around the world-tree. The city below shrank steadily, replaced by branches so large they formed entire platforms. Birds with translucent wings drifted through the air, leaving trails of light.
Aeryn felt the mana density rising. His lungs tingled with every breath.
"You feel it?" Lirae asked without looking back.
"Yes. It's… heavier."
"This region of the world-tree channels condensed aether. Only those who have passed the Veil may walk here. Anyone weak in spirit would collapse the moment they stepped into the aura."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Everything worth learning is."
They stepped onto a floating platform formed from woven roots. The air shimmered with a thin mist of starlike motes.
"This is the First Veil Platform," Lirae said. "Where we begin."
Aeryn scanned the area. Aside from faint carvings in the roots beneath their feet, the space appeared almost empty—yet the air hummed with restrained power.
Lirae moved to the center. "Your training has three goals. First: stabilize your soul-thread. Second: synchronize your aether flow with the world's rhythm. Third: prevent your construct from overwhelming you."
He stepped forward. "How do we begin?"
"With understanding your limits." Lirae raised her hand.
A circle of pale light expanded from her palm, forming a dome that encased them both. Aeryn felt mana compress around him, thickening like water.
"Your task," she said, "is to stand."
Aeryn blinked. "Stand?"
"Yes. Without kneeling. Without losing consciousness. Without fracturing your soul-thread." Her expression did not change. "If you cannot withstand this level, the rest will kill you."
The dome brightened.
The pressure hit him instantly.
His knees almost buckled.
Aeryn sucked in a quick breath as invisible weight bore down on him. It felt as if the air had turned to stone, crushing him from all sides. His ribs strained. His heartbeat thundered.
Lirae's voice was calm. "Breathe through your core. Channel mana into your spine. Do not resist the weight—anchor yourself beneath it."
Aeryn grunted, adjusting his stance. His hands trembled at his sides. The dome pulsed again, increasing pressure.
He grit his teeth.
This was nothing compared to what he had endured in the forest—no, that was a lie. This was far worse, but he refused to falter.
Slowly, he closed his eyes.
He reached inward.
The System thrummed faintly in response, like a distant echo. For a moment he felt a thread of warmth spread through his veins.
No. Not yet.
He did not want to depend on it for this.
He grounded his breath, steady and controlled. His muscles tightened but did not spasm. The crushing force pressed against him relentlessly, but he held.
Lirae observed him, expression unreadable.
After a minute, she increased the pressure again.
Aeryn gasped, forced his knees straight, and lifted his chin. Sweat dripped down his jaw.
Another minute.
Another increase.
His vision blurred around the edges. His shoulders trembled. The bones in his arms felt as though they might crack.
Yet he still stood.
He would not fall.
He focused on the faint hum of the world-tree beneath his feet—the ancient pulse rising through its roots. He let his breath match it, syncing rhythm to rhythm.
The crushing force vibrated harder.
But something shifted.
Aeryn felt it—a subtle alignment within his chest. His mana flow steadied. His pulse synchronized with the aether around him.
The pressure still hurt. It still strained every fiber of his body.
But it no longer threatened to break him.
Lirae slowly lowered her hand. The dome dissolved into motes of fading light.
Aeryn exhaled harshly, almost collapsing, but caught himself.
Lirae studied him carefully. "Most initiates faint before reaching the third pulse."
Aeryn wiped sweat from his brow. "You should've warned me."
"If I warned you, you would have braced incorrectly and failed." She paused. "You passed."
Barely—but he did.
"What now?" he asked.
"Now," Lirae said, "we begin the actual training."
Aeryn stared at her. "That wasn't the training?"
"That was assessment."
He wasn't sure whether to feel proud or exhausted.
Lirae raised both hands this time. The platform responded—roots shifting, twisting, forming a circular pattern beneath their feet. Symbols carved by natural growth pulsed with pale blue light.
"This is the Resonance Circle," she said. "Stand in the center."
Aeryn stepped into the middle.
Lirae walked around him, each step calculated. "The construct inside your soul is evolving. To keep pace, your spirit must expand. Your first task is to resonate with aether without being consumed by it."
"And how do I do that?"
"Do nothing."
Before he could question, she placed her palm on the ground.
The Resonance Circle awakened.
A wave of energy surged upward, washing over Aeryn like a rising tide.
He inhaled sharply.
His senses distorted—colors deepened, sounds faded, and his mana surged without his command. The world's aether flowed into him, spiraling like currents seeking a channel.
His body tensed.
"Aeryn," Lirae's voice echoed distantly, "do not resist. Resistance causes fractures. Flow with it."
He forced his breath steady.
The aether swirled around him, through him. It wasn't crushing like before. This was more complex—seductive, almost gentle. Each wave carried whispers of past energies, memories of the world-tree, echoes of ancient life.
But beneath all that beauty, he sensed danger.
If he let go too much, the tide would drown his identity.
Aeryn closed his eyes and focused on the steady rhythm of his core. He imagined his mana as a quiet flame. The aether pressed against it, but he kept it stable—neither shrinking nor letting it flare uncontrollably.
Minutes passed.
Then the System stirred.
He felt it—not as text or suggestion, but as a silent presence observing how he handled the incoming flood. It did not help. It watched. Assimilated. Learned.
The aether swelled.
His pulse quickened.
The world trembled around him.
Then—
The surge halted.
The Resonance Circle dimmed.
Aeryn gasped, falling to one knee.
"That—felt endless," he said between breaths.
"Because it is." Lirae folded her arms. "Aether is infinite in movement. Only your capacity limits what you can hold."
Aeryn steadied himself. "Did I do well?"
"You didn't descend into aether delirium. That is considered success."
He didn't know what that meant, but he assumed it was good.
Lirae stepped closer, placing two fingers against his forehead. "Your soul-thread has expanded slightly. You are adapting."
He blinked. "Already?"
"Yes. And that is unusual." Her voice lowered. "You adapt too quickly. Faster than any elf I've trained. Faster than our records show possible."
Aeryn didn't respond immediately.
Because he felt it too.
Inside him, the System pulsed again—quiet, steady, deep.
But this time, a faint message drifted into his thoughts. Not fully formed words, but intention.
Recognition.
Acknowledgment.
Approval.
He swallowed.
The System wasn't just evolving.
It was responding.
Lirae drew back. "We continue after a brief rest. Your next task will be far more demanding."
Aeryn exhaled slowly, standing straighter despite the fatigue weighing down his limbs. "What will it be?"
"Forging your first Veil-bond," Lirae replied. "A step that no initiate attempts before weeks of preparation."
"Why me?"
"Because whatever lies inside you will not wait weeks. If you don't grow fast enough… it will."
Aeryn clenched his jaw.
Then he nodded.
"I'm ready."
Lirae watched him for a long moment, then spoke quietly—almost too quiet for him to hear.
"I hope you truly are."
**
Across the shimmering expanse of the world-tree, in a chamber hidden far beyond the normal paths of Luminar, another figure stirred.
Eyes of cold silver opened.
A whisper spread through the leaves like distant wind.
"So another Echo… has awakened."