Grey was one of the first to be tested. A handful had gone before him—men and women, young and old—but none had comprehended the Doctrine of Will.

Elder had called them, one by one, into his home—a place Grey hadn’t stepped foot in for many years. Time seemed to hold still here. The space was warm, illuminated by the flickering light of a stone hearth. Pelts lined the walls, stitched carefully from creatures long since vanished from the nearby forests. Paintings, crafted from crushed berries and rare herbs, depicted ancient beasts—some majestic, others terrifying. The air was heavy with the faint scent of herbs, smoke, and aged wood.

Simple wooden chairs and benches lined the room, their surfaces worn smooth from countless years of use. On one wall, a shelf sagged under the weight of leather-bound tomes, their spines cracked and faded with time. Above the mantle, a claw—larger than any Grey had seen, curved and still sharp—hung like a silent guardian over the room.

“Welcome back, Grey,” Elder said softly, his frail voice carrying across the room like a thread of silk. His pale eyes, sharp despite their age, studied Grey with a warmth that felt heavier now, knowing how ancient the man truly was. “It’s been many years since you’ve come home.”

Grey hesitated for just a moment before offering a small smile. He realized now how much loneliness Elder must have endured across his countless seasons—how many generations had come and gone while the old man remained, steadfast and eternal. Guilt gnawed at the edges of Grey’s thoughts, regret for leaving so early in his life. But then he thought of Tear, he would had never met her if he hadn’t.

“I’m glad to be back, Elder,” Grey said earnestly, his voice low and steady. “Are we going to start immediately?”

“Yes,” Elder replied with a solemn nod. “That is best. There are many others waiting, and none have yet grasped even a flicker of understanding.” He let out a weary sigh, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. “Not even I, despite all my years of study. I can only read the words, Grey, but I cannot see the truth they speak of. The majesty of what lies beyond remains veiled to me.”

Grey’s gaze fell upon the scroll resting on a stone pedestal near the hearth. Its shimmering surface pulsed faintly in the firelight, sigils and ancient characters flowing like water across its surface.

Elder stepped forward, leaning heavily on his staff as he approached the scroll. With deliberate care, he unfurled it across the pedestal. The moment the ancient parchment lay flat, the air in the room seemed to change. The warmth of the fire felt distant, the faint crackle of burning wood muted. Grey could feel it—a subtle pull, like an unseen current running beneath the surface of the world.

Elder began to speak.

His voice was low, almost reverent, as he began to recite the words etched into the scroll. The ancient symbols glowed faintly under the flickering light, casting patterns onto Elder’s weathered face.

“To wield Will is not to command—it is to understand. It is not to conquer—it is to harmonize. The stars burn not because they are told to, but because it is their nature. The mountains do not hold their weight because they must, but because they are.”

Grey’s chest tightened as Elder’s voice carried onward, each word reverberating through him like the faint toll of a distant bell. The edges of his vision began to blur, and the light of the fire distorted, warping and stretching across his sight like molten gold.

“Will is the breath of the world, the pulse of the stars, the whisper of the void. It flows not only through power but through intention—through knowing why the stone falls and why the flame rises.”

The words sank into Grey—not just into his mind, but into something deeper, something primal. His breathing slowed, and his silver eyes became unfocused as the room around him faded into haze.

Something was happening.

He blinked, and the world fell away.

Grey was suspended in an endless expanse—an ocean of stars scattered across an infinite void. The air, if it could even be called that, felt heavy with something ancient, something alive. Golden threads erupted from every direction, crisscrossing the cosmos like veins of molten light, pulsing with an unseen heartbeat.

Grey felt himself pulled deeper into the tapestry of golden threads, his form weightless and translucent as the celestial dance unfolded before him. The elements—fire, water, air, and earth—swirled in unison, creating and destroying worlds in a symphony so vast it felt eternal.

And then… the threads shifted.

From the chaos, symbols began to emerge, glowing brighter than the stars themselves. They were not creatures—no, they were concepts given shape, carved from light and shadow, impossibly ancient and majestic.

The first was a serpent, long and sinuous, with vast wings spread wide like sails catching the breath of the cosmos. Its scales shimmered like translucent glass, flickering between hues of pale gold and silver. A storm surged within its chest, and its piercing eyes—two bottomless voids of sky—locked onto Grey before it coiled into the heavens and vanished.

He could almost feel the sky bowing to its presence—the wind bending to its will.

The second figure erupted into view with the force of a sunrise. A towering beast stepped forth, its silhouette wreathed in a mane of molten flame. The creature roared, and the void answered, its breath a tidal wave of golden fire spreading across the celestial expanse. Its claws scraped against the unseen fabric of reality, carving lines of incandescent light.

It radiated strength, ferocity, and unyielding power.

The third vision was quieter, softer—but no less magnificent. A great bird—a silhouette of sweeping feathers made of sapphire light and frost—drifted down from above. Its wings spread wide, scattering crystalline shards into the void, each one glowing briefly before fading into nothingness. Its form was ethereal, cold, and impossibly serene.

Where it flew, the waters calmed. Where it landed, stillness followed.

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Finally, from below, something vast began to rise—a lumbering form carved from mountains and canyons, its shell holding entire worlds within its crevices. Its movement was slow, deliberate, and filled with a patience that felt as old as time itself. Moss, rivers, and entire ecosystems grew along its shell, fed by streams of golden light threading through its ancient stone-like skin.

It carried the weight of eternity, the burden of life and stability.

And then they were gone.

Grey couldn’t comprehend them entirely, but he felt their weight—their meaning pressing into him like a brand seared onto his very soul.

These were not just symbols. They were pillars. Foundations. Laws written into the tapestry of existence itself.

And a question came,sharper and clear, breaking the infinite silence:

Why do you seek to understand?

The question still echoed in Grey's mind as he was pulled back into the present. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths as his vision refocused on the flickering firelight dancing across Elder's face. The scroll still glimmered faintly in Elder’s trembling hands, its faint glow casting long shadows along the stone walls.

“Grey… are you alright?” Elder's voice wavered with a mix of caution and anticipation. His sharp, pale eyes scanned Grey’s face for any sign of clarity—or failure.

Grey nodded weakly, his voice hoarse. “I think… I think so.”

But Elder wasn’t hearing him. His eyes widened in sudden realization, his frail shoulders trembling as though a great weight had been lifted. “You understood…” he whispered, almost breathless.

He lifted his head toward the ceiling, his voice breaking with unrestrained emotion. “At last! At last! Great ancestors, we will return to the world! Our blood will continue!” His voice cracked on the final word, and he pressed a trembling hand to his chest, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Turning back to Grey, Elder’s gaze locked onto him, his voice softer now but no less intense. “You—” He paused, swallowing thickly. “You are our greatest blessing in generations.”

He took several steadying breaths, wiping his eyes with his fur-lined sleeve, he spoke again, his tone calmer but still carrying an unshakable resolve. “Grey, I will test the rest of the villagers. If anyone else can comprehend it—I will pass down everything to you and them. Everything. My knowledge of reading, of writing, of medicine, elixirs, techniques passed from Elder to Elder for generations. It will no longer be locked away in dusty scrolls and fading memories. It will live in you.”

Grey swallowed, his throat dry. His mind was still reeling from the visions, the golden threads, the impossible vastness of what he had witnessed.

“Elder,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, “What happens now? I… I saw something. I had visions—fragments of fire, of light, of creation—but I didn’t understand. It felt like a glimpse, a fleeting taste of something vast. What happens now?”

Elder exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the scroll. His expression was grave, his voice steady as he spoke. “Grey, what you’ve touched—what you’ve seen—is the beginning. The first step on a path few ever even glimpse. It wasn’t a trick. It wasn’t just words or visions. It was a door. And you stepped through it.”

He gestured faintly with the scroll, its ethereal glow reflecting in his pale eyes. “The First Elder told me this long ago, words etched into my memory with fire and iron. Those of the Giant blood—the blood we all carry in our veins—have always had the capacity to draw Will into their bodies, to strengthen themselves, to push beyond ordinary limits. But you, Grey… you felt something more, didn’t you? You touched something deeper.”

Grey hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. “…Yes.”

Elder nodded solemnly. “You have the potential to do more than just draw Will into your body. You can shape it. Mold it. Guide it with intent, with Willpower. That is what separates the gifted from the masters. Where others might drink from the river, you can shape its flow. You can build dams, carve channels, make it yours.”

Grey’s brow furrowed as he processed Elder’s words. “Like the strangers? The ones we fought?”

Elder’s face darkened slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Yes… and no. The strangers—perhaps one among them—may have truly understood Will. But the others? No. I believe they borrowed it, siphoned it through techniques and tools rather than wielding it with true mastery. They were scavengers of power, not architects of it.”

He paused, his voice softening as he continued. “Grey, those who truly master Will are said to stand apart from ordinary men. The First Elder spoke of such figures—ones who could move mountains with a thought, who could pull fire from empty skies, who could command the stars themselves.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with both promise and fear. Grey’s throat felt tight as he tried to imagine such power, such control. It felt distant, unattainable—but the golden threads still danced in the corners of his mind, their hum faint but persistent.

Elder stepped closer, his voice low but urgent. “But power like that comes with weight, Grey. The world itself pushes back against those who would wield such strength. It will test you, break you.”

Grey closed his eyes briefly, the question still resonating in his chest.

Why do you seek to understand?

When he opened them again, Elder was watching him carefully.

“Are you ready to begin walking that path, Grey?” Elder asked softly.

Grey met Elder’s gaze, the flickering firelight reflected in his silver eyes. The weight of everything—the village’s survival, the future of their people, the immense and unknowable journey ahead—pressed down on him.

But somewhere deep inside, the golden threads still glimmered.

“Yes,” Grey said quietly but firmly. “I’m ready.”

The room fell silent, save for the soft sound of the fire and the faint howl of wind from the world beyond the stone walls.

For a moment—just a brief, fragile moment—Grey felt like he stood on the edge of something infinite.

And he was ready to step forward.

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Thank you for sticking with me through another chapter! 🪄✨

Chapter 22 marks a pivotal moment, blending mysticism, discovery, and the weight of ancient legacies. Grey's experience with the Doctrine of Will pulls back the curtain on something vast and unknowable—a glimpse into raw creation, infinite potential, and the question that echoes through eternity: Why do you seek to understand?

It’s a chapter heavy with wonder, responsibility, and the first steps onto a path that feels both impossible and inevitable. Elder's hope, Grey's uncertainty, and the sheer scale of what lies ahead—these are threads that will continue to weave the fabric of their journey.

I hope you felt the weight of this moment as deeply as I did while writing it.

So, what did you think?

👉 Like if you felt the pull of the stars in this chapter.

👉 Follow to see where Grey's journey takes him next.

👉 Comment below—I’d love to hear your thoughts on the Doctrine, Elder’s revelations, or Grey’s celestial vision!

Until next time, keep reaching for the stars and chasing the golden threads. 🌟📖✨