Joy felt herself falling, her consciousness detached from her body and spiraling through an endless void. It was neither dark nor light, neither cold nor warm. She drifted, weightless, her senses dulled yet somehow heightened, suspended between realms. Her heartbeat echoed around her, and with each beat, she felt herself pulled deeper into something vast and ancient.

The world materialized slowly, as if painted stroke by stroke. She found herself standing in an expanse that seemed to have no end, a boundless space where colors shifted and elements danced in perfect, chaotic harmony. Fire and water swirled together in currents of glowing embers and cool mist. Lightning crackled through waves of air, and threads of earth twisted upward like vines reaching for the heavens. Each element pulsed, alive with a primal energy that made her skin tingle, each form more beautiful and terrifying than anything she’d ever seen.

And then, it came.

A voice—ancient, commanding, and resonant—filled the space around her. It did not come from any direction; it simply existed, woven into the very fabric of the world itself, vibrating with the weight of countless centuries.

“What are you?”

The question echoed through her, reverberating as if it were a thunderclap, each word striking a chord deep in her soul. It wasn’t simply a question; it was a demand, a challenge that reached into the very core of her being. The words carried weight, as though her answer held the power to shape this realm and define her existence within it.

Joy’s lips parted, but no words came. She felt stripped bare, exposed under the gaze of the voice, as if it could see not just her magic but her fears, her memories, even the pieces of her past life she could barely recall. She tried to gather her thoughts, her mind racing to understand what the voice wanted, what answer it sought.

The voice repeated, “What are you?”

She reached out, searching for any sense of certainty within herself. What am I? she thought, repeating the question inwardly. Was she just Joy, a girl with fragments of a past life? Was she a child of the Emberheart family, marked by thunder? Or was she something more, something waiting to be discovered in this place beyond reality?

The voice’s question continued to echo, each repetition more insistent, vibrating through her bones. She felt a strange compulsion to respond, but a warning tugged at her mind. There was a danger here, a sense that an answer given too hastily might trap her, bind her to this realm in ways she couldn’t yet understand.

The question continued to echo, each repetition drilling deeper into Joy’s mind. What are you?

The words pulsed in her head, reverberating in time with her heartbeat, calling for an answer she didn’t have. In desperation, she reached for the only truth she knew: her affinity with lightning, with thunder, the element that had been part of her since birth.

She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, to let her instincts guide her. What am I?

Maybe I am lightning, she thought, feeling the energy of the thought ripple through her.

No sooner had the thought taken shape than her body, her mind—everything that made her Joy—dissolved in a blinding, crackling flash. She felt herself stretch, thin and quick, racing through the space like a bolt of lightning loosed upon the world. Gone were her limbs, her heartbeat, her breath. In their place, she felt only raw, relentless energy, surging forward with blinding speed.

She was lightning itself, no longer bound by flesh and bone but a formless arc of crackling electricity, fleeting and untethered. She sliced through the air, an electric blaze that raced across the boundless expanse, filling it with the fierce glow of her passage. Her presence sparked in flashes, resonating with a thunderous rumble each time she moved, filling the air with the boom and echo of thunder.

There was power here—power beyond anything she’d ever known. It rushed through her, around her, until she felt herself losing control, slipping into the boundless, formless flow of electricity. She could feel the thrill of it, the sheer velocity of her movement, but her thoughts grew dim, her awareness thinning as she dissolved into the current of lightning. Joy’s consciousness frayed, slipping further away, until she was little more than a crackle of energy in the vast, endless void.

But then, as her essence nearly dispersed into the storm, she heard it again, that low, ancient voice, like a distant roll of thunder.

“What are you?”

The question yanked her back, pulling her from the current of energy. Her thoughts snapped together, piecing her consciousness back into something vaguely resembling herself. The question was more insistent this time, as if it were pressing her to go deeper, to understand something she hadn’t yet grasped.

Her mind spun as she tried to answer, tried to connect with something more concrete. She reached for the next affinity that felt familiar, something that might ground her. Water, she thought, seeking its calming depths, its endless adaptability.

Once again, her form slipped away, dissolving as she became water itself. She was a cool, fluid current, flowing effortlessly, twisting and winding like a river across unseen landscapes. She felt herself ripple and rush, filling every crevice, every hollow, her mind bending with the flow. She was shapeless, adapting to the spaces she filled, her form stretching and merging until she was no more than a stream cascading through an endless void.

The sensation was different from the crackling force of lightning, quieter, but just as powerful. Her thoughts spread thin like droplets in a current, drifting apart as she shifted between pools, rivers, and streams. Her identity faded, replaced by the calm yet unstoppable force of water. Yet once again, she felt herself fading, the memory of her human self slipping further from reach.

The voice cut through the vast expanse, sharp and clear. “What are you?”

ulled back yet again, her mind snapped together in fragments, but the strain of reforming each time was beginning to wear on her. She could feel the toll it was taking on her consciousness, but the question lingered, relentless, awaiting her response.

She tried to think more carefully this time, choosing another element, hoping it would be enough to satisfy the question. I am fire, she thought, letting the idea take hold. Instantly, she was consumed by heat, her essence transforming into a roaring blaze, wild and ferocious.

As fire, she could feel herself burn bright and intense, a fierce and consuming energy. She spread in all directions, engulfing everything, devouring the space with her presence. She was no longer a person but a force of nature, reckless and powerful, heat and fury combined. The flames licked and crackled, her awareness flickering in rhythm with the blaze, until her sense of self began to dim, fading into embers, then to ash.

“What are you?” the voice demanded, pulling her back once more.

Each time, her consciousness shattered and reformed, each transformation leaving her weaker, her identity blurred. She tried again, reaching out to the element of wind, hoping for release from the endless cycle. She felt herself become light and airy, a whisper on the breeze, her form scattered into gusts of invisible force. She rushed and swirled, moving freely, barely aware of herself as she drifted through the currents of this strange, boundless realm.

On and on, Joy shifted, transformed, each element more fleeting, more elusive than the last. Her mind was a frayed tapestry, each thread stretching thinner, her memories and sense of self fraying each time she tried to answer the voice’s question.

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Lightning. Water. Fire. Wind.

Again and again, she became these elements, each transformation pulling her further from the core of who she was. Each form, though familiar in power, only brought her closer to losing herself entirely. She began to feel a hollow ache, a fading, as if her soul itself were slipping away, piece by piece. The elements danced around her, endless and insistent, but none of them seemed to hold the answer.

A realization dawned on her, a spark in the fog of her unraveling consciousness. This was a test—a trial meant to strip her of everything she knew, every comfortable identity she had ever held. The voice wasn’t merely questioning her; it was pushing her, forcing her to confront the nature of her being. It wasn’t just about power or form. It was something deeper, something beyond the elements themselves.

A realization dawned on her, a spark in the fog of her unraveling consciousness. This was a test—a trial meant to strip her of everything she knew, every comfortable identity she had ever held. The voice wasn’t merely questioning her; it was pushing her, forcing her to confront the nature of her being. It wasn’t just about power or form. It was something deeper, something beyond the elements themselves.

Joy steadied her thoughts, calming the chaos inside her. She was no longer trying to be fire or water or lightning; she was just herself, and she held a connection to each element without losing herself within them.

The question came again, softer this time, as if acknowledging her newfound clarity.

“What are you?”

This time, her answer came not from fear or desperation, but from a place of deep certainty, her voice clear and unwavering. She knew now what to say, what to declare, and it would be enough to break free from this endless shifting.

This was her moment of truth.

Joy floated in a suspended calm, her mind cleared by the endless cycles of transformation and dissolution. She now understood the purpose of these trials, a journey meant to reveal a truth deeper than elemental affinity. Each time she became fire, wind, water, or lightning, she was left with only a fragment of herself, scatter

What are you? The voice echoed again, softer now, as if it too understood her newfound clarity.

Joy drew in a breath, though in this realm it felt like drawing in light itself. She felt her consciousness align, the pieces of her soul pulling into focus. She had endured the storm of transformations, grasped at the flickering edges of herself, and now, finally, she knew what to say. It was a truth that came not from her past, not from the fragments of her memories, but from her core, from the unbreakable center of her being.

She remembered one of her past experiences, teachings of her friend resound in her mind, she remembered one mantra that she loves from ancient practitioners of her past life.

Raising her head, her voice rang clear, echoing across the vastness, carrying the force of thunder and the stillness of lightning poised to strike.

“I am the Heavenly Eye!” she declared, her voice steady and strong. “I am in mutual contact with Heaven! Shining, I resemble Thunder and Lightning! My radiance shines outward to illuminate the Eight Directions! I penetrate and inspect what is outside and within! All creatures yield to my power! Cruel and evil forces, demons and divinities, all crumble beneath my steps; they follow this order as an official decree. I am the representative of the emperor of the five thunders and the ancestor of thunder, so my presence represents them.”

As her words hung in the air, the world around her seemed to still. The swirling elements slowed, as if bowing in acknowledgment, rippling with an energy that resonated with her declaration. The space felt charged with reverence, each element a silent witness to her affirmation. She could feel the power of her words sinking into the very fabric of this realm, shaping and defining her place within it.

The ancient voice, which had questioned her so relentlessly, now spoke with a new tone—calm, solemn, and almost reverent.

“You have spoken with clarity, child of thunder and soul,” the voice rumbled, its resonance filling her with a warmth she had not yet felt. “Few have reached this place with such conviction. You understand the nature of your being and have accepted the duality of your power. With such strength, you may yet become either the Goddess of Lightning or the Goddess of Souls.”

The words held a promise and a warning, each title carrying its own weight. She could sense the significance of this revelation, hinting at the paths her future might take. The Goddess of Lightning—a figure of untamed energy, searing and decisive. Or the Goddess of Souls—a being whose understanding of life and death extended beyond mortal comprehension. Each title glimmered in her mind like distant stars, a choice yet unwritten, paths yet untraveled.

Her heart beat in steady, powerful rhythms as she absorbed the voice’s words. There was a gravity here that she couldn’t fully comprehend, but she sensed that whatever lay ahead would require her to choose, to commit to the path she had just glimpsed.

“You have faced the shifting of forms, embraced the chaos of elements, and emerged with your essence intact. You are worthy, Joy Emberheart,” the voice continued, sounding almost... approving. “For now, return to your world. Know that you carry within you the seeds of a power that reaches beyond mortal realms.”

Before she could respond, an intense, radiant light filled her vision. It was blinding yet warm, wrapping around her consciousness like a cocoon. She felt herself being lifted, her awareness shifting as the vastness of the World of Wands began to fade. The brilliant light enveloped her completely, carrying her away from the realm of elements and pulling her back, back to where her journey had begun.

Joy’s consciousness swirled, caught in a torrent of power and light, each moment bringing her closer to the physical world. She felt herself merging back into her body, her senses grounding once more. But she could feel the difference within her—a profound change, an understanding that had been forged in the fires of the World of Wands.

And just before she fully returned, she felt something cool and solid in her hand—a gift, a piece of that mystical realm brought back with her.

As Joy’s senses fully settled back into her physical body, she held the black and blue lightning wand in her hand, feeling its power radiate up her arm in steady pulses. The weight of her recent experience within the World of Wands lingered, a subtle thrumming in her chest and mind, and she glanced up to see the massive wolf guardian watching her intently. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom and memories, fixed on the wand in her hand with a gaze that spoke of recognition—and perhaps a touch of reverence.

“So, you have returned from the World of Wands,” the wolf rumbled, his voice thick with depth, each word a low vibration that resonated in the very stones beneath them. The wolf’s gaze softened as he continued. “The World of Wands… it is a realm beyond the reach of most, a place woven from magic itself. But such a place did not exist when I was a mage, thousands of years ago. Our world was vast and rich with magic, but the bridge between mind and power that the World of Wands now offers was a thing of dreams.

Joy and her sisters listened intently, riveted by the wolf’s words, each one carrying the weight of ancient history.

“That world was the creation of a single mage,” the wolf continued, his eyes glinting with memory. “He was a legend in my time, one who pushed past every known boundary and achieved what few thought possible. And with that power, he crafted a world—a realm that exists as an echo within the consciousness of every mage.”

Joy’s breath caught as she realized the magnitude of what this mage had done. To create a world that connected with the consciousness of others, to bridge realms of thought and magic—she could barely comprehend the scope of that power.

“The mage called it the World of Wands,” The wolf’s voice softened as he continued. When he surpassed the limits of the Arcane Ascendant level, he unlocked the power of creation itself. He used that power to craft a mystical realm connected to the consciousness of every mage. It would only open to those who trained in his methods, a series of teachings that laid the foundation for an entire school. Over the centuries, this school grew and evolved, adapting his methods and codifying them, until it became something much greater: a Sect known as the Astral Codex Sect.”

“The Astral Codex Sect was unlike anything that had existed before,” the wolf went on, his voice carrying a mixture of admiration and gravity. “Its purpose was to unify the magical teachings of the world, to bring all mages under one method—a single path that promised the strength and stability of unified magic. It was revolutionary. Thousands of mages followed its teachings, and many achieved power beyond what was common in our world.”

Eden and Eve shared a look, understanding the ambition of such a vision. The idea of a single path to power, uniting all of Astraxion’s mages, was compelling. But something in the wolf’s tone hinted that this unification came at a great cost.

Eden furrowed her brows as the implications settled in. “So, this sect’s teachings became the standard, pushing out other traditions?”

“Indeed, but not all were eager to join the Sect’s vision,” the wolf continued, his eyes hardening. “There were those of us who wished to preserve our family methods, the traditions passed down through generations. My own family, the Stormglades, were masters of the elements, with knowledge of our elements that went deeper than any school could teach. And there were others, like the Aureathis, masters of light and fire, who held equally deep connections to their unique powers.”

A shadow passed over his face, memories of battles fought and lost flashing in his eyes.