The path had grown more grueling. Giant rocks forced them to either climb over or navigate around them, while the ground beneath their feet was now covered in loose stones, making every step uncertain. Their footing slipped now and then, each misstep draining more of their energy. The towering trees remained unwavering, their trunks stretching straight toward the sky, a stark contrast to the steep, uneven trail they struggled to traverse.
"Huff, huff."
Kael breathed heavily, struggling to maintain his composure. His face was noticeably paler than usual, and his steps had lost their usual steadiness.
"Torin, could we make camp here for the night? I don’t know how much further I can go today."
His voice was drained, each word carrying the weight of exhaustion.
He hadn’t bothered with formalities, speaking to the Luminaire as if they were equals. Under normal circumstances, a mortal addressing one of their kind so casually would have faced serious consequences. But Torin didn’t seem to care.
Kael knew he wouldn’t.
Upon hearing Kael’s words, Torin halted his steps and turned to face him, his sharp gaze studying him intently. Anyone else might have found the scrutiny uncomfortable, but Kael didn’t mind. He met Torin’s eyes without hesitation.
After a brief pause, Torin spoke.
“Alright. Malric, scout the area for a suitable place to set up camp. Selene, erase any traces we might have left behind in the nearby area.”
The two Luminaires didn’t speak a word, simply nodding in acknowledgment before swiftly setting off to carry out their tasks. Their movements were efficient, practiced, there was no need for hesitation or further discussion. They knew their roles well, and more importantly, they trusted Torin’s judgment without question.
Kael, however, had received no instructions, but he didn’t expect any. He wasn’t part of their chain of command, nor did he need to be. Without hesitation, he set about gathering sticks to start a fire, his actions second nature by now. He was a mercenary, after all, and they mostly treated him as such, an outsider with a role to fulfill, but nothing more.
As soon as Kael had gathered the sticks and placed them in a neat pile, he set off again, this time to hunt. He walked past Torin, who was leaning against a massive tree, scribbling in his notebook without so much as glancing up.
Before long, the sounds of the camp faded behind him, replaced by the quiet rustling of leaves and the occasional creak of towering trees. The path ahead was unfamiliar, yet the scenery remained the same, monolithic trunks, uneven terrain, and scattered boulders.
Kael exhaled slowly. He was finally alone.
Even though he’d gotten a good read on them, they hadn’t really figured him out. Not that they could, he made sure of that. Maintaining the image of an ordinary mortal took just as much effort as suppressing his Luminaire aura. With three seasoned Luminaires watching his every move, there was never a moment to slip.
After traveling together for a few weeks, Kael had finally picked up on a few things about Torin. He was a Luminaire—of course, Kael had never doubted that, but now it was undeniable. Every so often, Kael would catch glimpses of him raising a hand, and without fail, a crow would land on it. They would simply stare at each other for a few moments before the bird took off again, soaring high into the sky until it disappeared from sight.
It had taken Kael a while to piece it together. He had never sensed the crow’s presence as it moved, nor had he felt any trace of Luminaire energy from Torin. The whole thing had been subtle, deliberate. After much thought, Kael had finally arrived at the only reasonable conclusion based on what little he knew.
Firstly, he considered the possibility that it was a mote capable of concealing the presence of other motes. However, such an ability would be far too valuable to remain unknown. A mote like that wouldn’t just be practical for mercenaries, it would be invaluable in all forms of combat. If it existed, people would have heard about it.
His second and final conclusion seemed far more likely. Suppressing one’s aura was a soul technique, and he knew that the understanding of one’s soul varied in depth. In his case, he was little more than a novice, but even that was more than most. He suspected that Torin possessed a far deeper understanding of the soul. One that allowed him to suppress his aura even while activating a mote, refining the technique to a level Kael had never seen before.
The study of the soul was not well regarded. Many saw it as unimportant, even cowardly. Dismissed by warriors who prided themselves on strength and righteousness.
Of course, Kael was not bound by such narrow beliefs.
This thought had lingered in Kael’s mind for most of his journey since first considering it. The ability to activate a mote without revealing one’s aura would be incredibly useful. He had spent countless hours reflecting on his own soul, exploring different perspectives and metaphors in an attempt to deepen his understanding. But no matter how much he thought about it, his efforts had led nowhere.
The rocks beneath Kael’s feet shifted, jolting him from his thoughts.
“Right. The hunt.”
His eyes refocused as he picked up his pace. Without the need to act exhausted, his mind felt sharper, clearer. He still kept his aura suppressed, unwilling to let his guard down completely, but not having to constantly pretend to be a mere mortal was a relief in itself.
Kael knew Torin would not send the crow after him. That certainty allowed him to move more freely. Torin had made no attempt to hide the bird’s presence. If anything, he had made it obvious. He understood that once someone became aware of something like that, they would naturally become more cautious.
But more than that, Torin was not just any Luminaire. He was nobility, representing his family on this journey. That meant maintaining an image of control, authority, and trust, or at least the illusion of it. A noble family had no need to spy on a mere mortal. If they wanted answers, they would simply ask. Choosing not to watch him was also a sign of respect. Even as a mortal, Kael had traveled alone through a significant stretch of the Titanwoods, something few could claim. That alone proved he was more than capable of handling himself, especially on a simple hunt. Keeping an eye on someone like that would be unnecessary at best and insulting at worst.
The beast Kael had decided on to hunt was a beast covered in stone commonly found within rocky areas, where they could easily camouflage themselves. As Kael traveled the forest he flipped rocks. and branches looking under them. The stone like creatures were small, only the size of a rabbit, but they exceeded in hiding, and keeping their presence hidden.
As he wandered, absentmindedly flipping over rocks and peering beneath thick branches, he finally found what he was looking for. Beneath a small stone, a cat-like creature crouched, its body covered in rough, rock-like scales. Two deep, dark eyes stared up at Kael, wide with fear. It shuddered slightly, startled by the sudden loss of the rock it had claimed as its home.
A dark smile appeared on Kael’s lips as he reached out to grab the creature. Just as his fingers closed in, his expression shifted to one of surprise. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
"What’s up with this beast?"
His eyes sharpened, scanning it carefully.
He hadn’t held back. He had shot out his hand with the full intent of capturing it, moving with the speed and precision of a Luminaire. Yet somehow, he had missed. Or had he?
Narrowing his gaze, Kael focused on the cat-like creature once more. This time, he struck with all the physical strength he could muster. His fingers closed—
Around nothing.
Again, he grasped at air.
“What is happening?”
Kael wasn’t sure what to make of the creature. He was familiar with the cat-like beasts that roamed the forest. They were timid, cautious, and highly aware of their surroundings. Harmless to both humans and Luminaires, they were often hunted for food by those traveling through the middle stages of the Titanwoods.
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If mere mortals could catch and eat these creatures without issue, then shouldn’t he, a Luminaire, be more than qualified to do the same?
Kael shot his hand out again and grabbed nothing but air. His brows pulled together. Something was off.
He shifted his stance, making sure the little creature had nowhere to escape while keeping his eyes locked on it. The longer he stood there, the more the uneasy feeling settled in, like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.
It was subtle, but he couldn’t shake it. Little by little, he started to figure out where the uneasy feeling was coming from. Every time he tried to focus on the beast, his eyes kept wandering—to a nearby rock, a meaningless speck of dirt, the ground beneath it. Even his thoughts kept slipping, like something was gently steering his mind away.
Kael might not have noticed it if he weren’t as cautious as he was. As he studied the creature, his mind raced, forming new thoughts and speculations. That’s when he caught it. His thoughts were shifting, ever so slightly, on their own, moving without his will.
Kael was just moments away from trying to grab the beast again when it hissed. His eyes widened. It was quick, barely a flicker, but there was no denying it. The moment it hissed, a small trace of rank three aura seeped out.
It was a rank two mote.
For a brief moment, his mind was clouded by greed.
“I must refine it.”
Kael quickly suppressed his surprise and excitement.
This time, when he shot out his hand, he didn’t hold back his luminaire aura. It flared briefly, just long enough for the mote to notice. The creature froze for a split second, but that was all he needed.
Kael’s hand shot forward at incredible speed, closing firmly around its neck.
As soon as Kael had a firm grip on it, he sat down, crossing his legs and focusing all his attention on the cat-like mote. It clawed and hissed at him, but he didn’t react. Instead, he closed his eyes, pushing away every unnecessary thought.
As he sat, his mind calm and tranquil, he split his consciousness and let it flow through him, reaching into the mote. The moment he did, his jaw tightened involuntarily. There was no doubt, it was a rank two.
As his awareness sank deeper, he found himself in an empty space, an endless void stretching infinitely in all directions. Yet before him, a golden river floated within the darkness, suspended like a rope cast into the air. It twisted and undulated in unpredictable patterns, coiling upon itself, looping in great arcs, and folding in on its own shimmering length. Despite its erratic motion, the current within remained steady, an unbroken force flowing in a single direction, as if some unseen law bound it to its course.
‘So this is what a mote’s will look like.’
Kael focused his consciousness on the river, peering deep within. Tiny golden particles drifted through the current like flecks of dust suspended in water. Some strayed toward the edges, some rushed forward, and others struggled against the flow. Each one moved as if it had a will of its own, yet all were inevitably drawn downstream.
"The will forms the thoughts."
The words settled in his mind, weighty and inevitable. The particles moved, but their movement was not their own. They believed themselves free, erratic in their dance, yet all were bound to the river’s course. They could hesitate, resist, even push against the current, but none could escape it.
So too, was the nature of his will.
Had he truly forged it himself, or had it merely been shaped by something beyond his control? His choices, his convictions, even the very direction of his thoughts, did they arise from him, or had they always been leading him toward an outcome already decided?
A man believes he chooses his path, but does he?
Kael had always thought of his will as something absolute, something that belonged to him alone. It was what separated him from beasts, what gave him the power to carve his own fate. Kael had seen his will as absolute, something that belonged to him alone. It was what separated him from beasts, what gave him the power to carve his own fate.
But how could his will alone stand against fate?
Kael shook off those thoughts and focused on the river in front of him.
He had never seen the will or thoughts of a wild mote before. He’d entered his soulbound motes plenty of times, but they were nothing like this. They had no will, no thoughts of their own, just empty vessels, a part of him and nothing more.
What Kael was about to do, he had never done before but it came naturally to him.
If someone were to walk by, they would see a young man sitting cross-legged on the ground, eyes closed, his expression calm and composed. His dark hair swayed gently in the wind, untouched by the storm raging beneath the surface. One arm was outstretched, holding a cat-like creature with stone-like scales encircling its neck. Its body hung limp, unmoving, lifeless to any casual observer.
With a mental command, Kael's will and thoughts surged outward, crashing against the golden river before him. Like a red tsunami, his presence tore through the current, colliding with the mote’s will in a violent upheaval. The river trembled, ripples of resistance coursing through its length, yet it did not break.
His will carved into it, replacing fragments of the mote’s thoughts with his own. Where the river had once flowed with an untamed force, now parts of it bent to him, reshaped by his intrusion. But the mote did not surrender easily. The golden dust within the current churned wildly, its remnants clinging to what remained, resisting him, fighting to hold its form.
Kael gritted his teeth. This was no passive exchange, it was a battle. The mote’s will was vast, ancient, unyielding. To claim it, he would have to do more than crash against it. He would have to break it.
Hours passed like eternities. The clash of wills raged on, an unrelenting struggle of force and endurance. Neither side yielded, neither side relented. Kael’s face had turned pale, paler than ever before.
‘I can’t keep this up.’
His thoughts drained endlessly while the mote’s felt bottomless, unshaken no matter how hard he pushed. He was running out of time.
Summoning his will and thoughts took more out of him than he expected. He had assumed he could last longer, but time was slipping through his fingers faster than he liked. And soon, someone would come looking for him.
No one had been watching him. He was sure of that. But they wouldn’t let him die. Not because they cared but because the Eirendaile family wouldn’t allow it. He was too important to them. A hunt was not supposed to take this long.
At any moment they would start searching. And when they did he would have to stop whether he liked it or not.
His thoughts raced, weighing every option, every possible outcome. If he backed down now, everything he had endured would be for nothing, and every potential gain would be lost. If he pushed forward, he risked exposing his cover.
There was no more time to hesitate.
With a sharp breath, he steeled his resolve and activated his Obsidian Shard Mote.
“Ahh—” A pained groan escaped him before he could suppress it.
The moment he activated it, 180,000 of his thoughts were instantly drained.
And suddenly, he didn’t just feel the hard scales of the mote, he felt everything. Every ridge, every shift, the dense weight of each scale as it responded to even the slightest motion. He felt its tail swaying in the wind, every movement registering with crystal clarity.
As his focus deepened, he sensed the stillness within, no heartbeat, no breath, no blood flowing. The absence of life, yet the undeniable presence of something vast.
Gritting his teeth, he momentarily stopped summoning his will and thoughts, redirecting everything toward the Obsidian Shard Mote. His awareness sank deeper, deeper than he had ever thought possible, until he finally felt it.
A river, flowing aimlessly, swaying through the endless void. And within it, tiny particles drifted and stirred—thoughts, countless and untamed. This was the mote’s will, and its thoughts.
His mind felt sluggish, the sudden loss of thoughts weighing on him, yet at the same time, a flood of new understanding poured in. The process continued, an unrelenting cycle of loss and revelation, draining him with every passing second.
Kael’s face was pale and drenched in cold sweat. Hi’s face was void of expression, too exhausted to form one.
Inside the mote, Kael stood before the grand golden river. But this time, it was different.
He didn’t just see it, he felt it.
Every flicker of thought, every subtle shift in the current was clear to him. He could sense the chaotic dance of the golden particles, predict the river’s flow before it even moved. It was no longer just an endless stream; it was something alive, something he could understand.
Then, the river stirred.
The surface trembled, rippling with unease, as if some primal instinct had awakened. And in the next instant, it surged.
The current rose violently, crashing forward with unrelenting force. It no longer flowed aimlessly, it attacked. The golden torrent twisted and churned, rushing toward him in defiance, trying to force him out, to reject him with everything it had.
A final stand.
Kael's expression remained cold, his focus absolute.
He commanded, and his will and thoughts shot out toward the river with precision. Each strike landed with intent, replacing fragments of will and thought at a rapid pace.
Before, the battle had been nothing but brute force, two armies colliding headfirst in a relentless clash. But now, it was different.
One side pushed forward with sheer power, unrelenting and unthinking. The other moved with precision, exploiting weaknesses, breaking through where the defenses were most fragile. Each calculated strike fractured the river’s resistance, each disruption forcing it to bend just a little more.
Kael was no longer simply enduring the storm. He was dismantling it, piece by piece.
He had no idea how much time had passed.
As he opened his eyes, his vision slowly adjusted to the world outside the mote. His hand was still outstretched, fingers wrapped around the cat-like creature. It hung limply in his grip, motionless.
Then, without a sound, its form shimmered. The stone-like scales lost their weight, breaking apart into golden sparks that scattered into the wind, drifting away like embers fading into the night.
Kael could feel it. A new mote, now moving within his soul, seamlessly becoming a part of him.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as the weight of exhaustion settled in. His body gave in, and he fell back unwillingly, sinking into the ground beneath him.
Lying there, he stared up at the towering crowns of the trees, their leaves swaying gently against the vast sky. His mind was tranquill, calm and empty of any thoughts.
The world moved around him, but he remained in stillness.