Darkness was never truly dark for Stars. Even with his eyelids shut, his mind was busy mapping the afterimages of the sunlight and the geometric positions of the other children on the grass.
Forget your name. Forget your hunger.
He pushed the thoughts aside. It was difficult. His mind was a machine designed to process data, not to ignore it. To empty it felt like trying to stop a river with his hands.
He focused on his breathing. Inhale. Exhale.
Slowly, the static noise of his thoughts quieted. The sounds of the training yard—the distant clang of swords, the rustle of wind in the leaves—began to fade into a background hum.
Then, he felt it.
It wasn't a sound or a smell. It was a pressure. It felt like the air had suddenly become denser, charged with a static electricity that prickled against his skin. It was the same sensation he had felt when the maid lit the lamps, and when Greyson stood in the doorway, but infinitely more diffuse.
World Essence.
It was everywhere. It was a vast, invisible ocean, and they were all sitting at the bottom of it, oblivious to the weight of the water.
Stars reached out with his senses. He tried to grab it.
Nothing happened. The energy slipped through his mental grasp like smoke. It was intangible, refusing to be ordered.
To his left, he heard a sharp intake of breath.
Stars opened one eye—a breach of discipline, but necessary for data collection.
The commoner boy from Rhea was trembling. His fists were clenched tight, his face pale and beaded with sweat. But around him, the grass was bending slightly, drawn toward him as if by a magnetic pull.
He has it, Stars realized. He is pulling it in.
The boy wasn't using technique or logic. He was using raw instinct, dragging the energy into his body through sheer desperation. It was crude, but effective.
Stars closed his eye again. If he can do it, I can master it.
He changed his approach. He didn't try to grab the smoke. Instead, he visualized his own body as a void. He imagined the Upper Core in his mind and the Lower Core in his navel as two empty vessels, creating a vacuum.
Don't pull. Accept.
The sensation changed instantly.
The prickling on his skin turned into a flood. The energy didn't trickle in; it rushed. It poured into him with the force of a breaking dam. It was cold and hot all at once, a torrent of raw power that slammed into his senses.
Most children would have panicked and severed the connection. Stars leaned into it.
He directed the flow. He visualized a river forking.
Split.
He forced half the torrent upward, toward the center of his skull. It hit his mind like a hammer, a blinding white headache that made his teeth ache.
He forced the other half downward, spiraling into his gut. It burned like swallowing hot coals, searing his insides.
Pain is jus a sensation. Keep the flow.
"Stop!"
A heavy hand clamped onto his shoulder, shattering his concentration.
Stars gasped, his eyes flying open. The flow of energy snapped, leaving him gasping for air, his lungs burning.
Instructor Kael was crouching in front of him. The man's face was no longer stern; it was alarmed.
"Are you trying to kill yourself, boy?" Kael hissed, his voice low enough that the other children couldn't hear.
Stars coughed, tasting copper in his mouth. "I... was filling the vessels."
"You were flooding them," Kael corrected sharply. "You tried to fill both Cores at once on your first attempt? That is not bravery, that is suicide. The body needs to acclimate. You are two years old, not twenty."
Kael looked at Stars, really looked at him, searching for signs of internal damage. Finding none, the alarm in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a grudging, terrifying respect.
"You possess a greedy soul, Stars Myers," Kael whispered. "You saw the boy from Rhea succeed, and you wanted to outdo him."
Stars wiped his mouth. He didn't deny it.
Kael stood up and addressed the group. "Open your eyes!"
The other children stirred. Austin looked frustrated, clearly having felt nothing. Lyra looked bored, plucking blades of grass. The boy from Rhea was panting, looking exhausted but triumphant.
"Two of you felt the Essence," Kael announced, his gaze lingering on the commoner and the young noble. "The rest of you, do not be discouraged. It takes weeks for most. Months for some."
He walked over to the boy from Rhea.
"What is your name, son?"
"Kaelen, sir," the boy whispered, his voice trembling.
"Good work, Kaelen. You have the instincts of a survivor."
Then Kael turned to Stars.
"And you... you have the instincts of a conqueror. But a conqueror who burns his own kingdom is king of nothing."
Kael gestured to the castle.
"Training is over. Go eat. Rest. Your bodies will feel heavy tonight. That is the price of touching the divine."
As the group dispersed, Austin walked up to Stars. The older boy looked at him with a frown.
"You felt it?" Austin asked.
"Yes," Stars replied, his voice raspy.
Austin nodded, his jaw setting tight. He didn't say congratulations. He didn't express jealousy. He simply cataloged the information.
"I will feel it tomorrow," Austin stated firmly. Then he turned and marched toward the mess hall.
Stars watched him go. Then he looked at Kaelen, the commoner, who offered a shy, tentative nod before scurrying away.
Stars stood alone on the grass. His head throbbed, and his stomach felt like he had swallowed a stone. The path of the Mystic Knight was not just difficult; it was physically punishing.
He looked at his hands. They were trembling slightly.
He clenched them into fists until the shaking stopped.
Tomorrow, he thought, I will control the flood.