Quin sat on the edge of his bed, staring out the window at the vibrant colors of the setting sun. His body ached, his muscles still sore from the injuries he had sustained fighting the Shadowmaw. He clenched his fists in frustration, feeling the weight of his weakness pressing down on him. Despite their victory, Quin couldn't shake the memory of being thrown around by the beast, of nearly losing his friends. It gnawed at him.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," Quin called, his voice tight with frustration.

The door creaked open, and Lauren stepped inside, carrying a small basket of healing herbs. "Hey," she said softly, offering a gentle smile as she approached him. "I brought you something to help with the pain."

Quin tried to return the smile but found it difficult. "Thanks. I’m just... frustrated. I should’ve been stronger, faster. We barely survived."

Lauren set the basket down and sat beside him on the bed, her expression understanding. "You’re still recovering, Quin. You all are. But you did survive. And the others are recovering just fine." She paused, her tone softening. "You’re too hard on yourself."

For a few moments, they sat in silence. Quin felt the tension ease slightly, but it didn’t entirely go away. He was still replaying the battle in his head, thinking of all the ways it could have gone wrong.

"I guess," he said finally. "It’s just... we’re supposed to be getting stronger. We can’t afford to keep having close calls like that."

Lauren placed a hand on his bedside, her touch close and meant to be reassuring while still following the guidance of no contact for followers of Purity. "You’re getting stronger, Quin. You’ll see."

The reassurance did not make Quin feel better.

Several more days passed, and slowly, Quin’s body began to heal. By the end of the week, his injuries had mended enough for him to resume training. Things started to return to normal, though the memory of the Shadowmaw still lingered in his mind.

One evening, after a long day of training, Quin’s friends—Zach, Sam, Westin, and Cal—gathered in his suite at the Temple of Solarius. The air was warm, and the fire crackled softly in the hearth as they all settled into the chairs around Quin’s small table.

"I still can’t believe we managed to kill that thing," Zach said, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "That beast was way out of our league."

"Too close for comfort," Sam agreed, folding his arms across his chest. "We got lucky. Next time, we need to be stronger, more prepared."

Quin nodded, his mind turning to The Book of Ideals that had been the cornerstone of their discussions in recent weeks. "The Book of Ideals talks about embodying the best virtues of the Gods. I’ve been thinking... what if we became more than just a training cohort?"

The others looked at him curiously, sensing where he was going.

"I mean," Quin continued, "what if we formed our own brotherhood? A group bound by more than just our training. A brotherhood that follows a code—something based on The Book of Ideals. We could work together, not just to become stronger, but to influence the Light Pantheon itself. To make it better."

Westin sat up straighter, his eyes gleaming with interest. "A brotherhood? I like the sound of that. We’re already more like a family than just a cohort anyway. We have fought and almost died together."

Cal nodded. "Yeah, but this would be something deeper. A code that binds us to each other and to a shared goal." He paused, his eyes flicking toward Quin. "What kind of rules are you thinking?"

Quin leaned forward, his voice serious. "I think we should come up with a set of rules—something we all agree to live by. It should be based on the virtues in The Book of Ideals, but also practical. Things that guide us in how we treat each other, how we work together, and how we protect one another."

The group fell into a contemplative silence, each of them thinking about what such a brotherhood would mean. Then, slowly, they began to piece together a set of rules. They grabbed parchment and began to scribble down ideas. They debated, they joked, they threw out paper after paper till they littered the ground. Each and every one of them had to agree to the rules or the Brotherhood would not function. They all had to be completely invested if they were to create something that lasted.

And then they finally had it. Written on an ink blotted, half crumpled piece of paper. They had their rules, their covenant. They each turned to their own copy of The Book of Ideals, and began to rewrite the rules upon the empty pages in the back of the book.

**Brotherhood Covenant:**

1. Unity Above All: We are a brotherhood. We protect each other, fight for each other, and never abandon a member in need. Our strength lies in our unity.

2. Strive for Virtue: Each of us will embody the best traits of the Gods as outlined in The Book of Ideals—courage, wisdom, justice, honor, and compassion. We will hold each other accountable to these virtues.

3. Share Secrets Freely: There are no secrets among us. Every discovery, every piece of knowledge we gain, we will share with the brotherhood. In turn, we protect each other’s secrets from anyone outside our circle.

4. Pursue Strength Together: We will grow stronger as individuals, but more importantly, we will grow stronger as a brotherhood. Through training, battle, and knowledge, we will strive to become a force capable of influencing the Light Pantheon.

5. Uphold Justice and Fairness: In all things, we will act with justice and fairness. We will not exploit our power for personal gain but will use it to better the world and protect the innocent.

6. Act with Integrity: No matter the situation, we will act with integrity. We will not lie, deceive, or manipulate others for selfish reasons. Our actions will reflect our values.

7. Aid the Light Pantheon: Our ultimate goal is to influence and strengthen the Light Pantheon so that it benefits all who live on the continent. We will work toward a future where the ideals of the gods are upheld and the people protected.

8. Absolute Loyalty: Betrayal will never be tolerated. Each of us must swear absolute loyalty to the brotherhood, to its members, and to the code we have agreed upon.

As each of them wrote the final rule, the group exchanged glances. There was a seriousness in the air now, a recognition that they were committing themselves to something greater than they had ever considered before.

The group fell into a contemplative silence. The crackling fire in Quin's suite provided the only sound as each of them turned the same thought over in their minds—what to call their new brotherhood.

"It has to be something that represents who we are and what we’re striving for," Sam said, breaking the silence. "Something that reflects the ideals we’re aiming to embody."

"Agreed," Zach said, leaning forward. "But it can’t be too flowery or grandiose. It needs to be strong, something people will remember."

Cal scratched his chin, thinking aloud. "What about The Brotherhood of the Light Pantheon? Simple, direct, and it explains what we’re about."

Westin shook his head. "Too generic. It sounds more like a group of kids trying to form an organization within the Light Pantheon that does nothing than a group of warriors trying to change the world. We need something that stands out."

Zach, who had been quietly listening, smiled slightly. "What about something that incorporates ‘light’? After all, we’re dedicated to the virtues of the Light Pantheon."

Quin tapped his fingers on the table. "Light’s good, but we’re aiming to be more than just a reflection of the gods. We want to grow beyond what’s already established. Something like The Ascendants."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Ascendants? I like the idea, but it sounds like we’re just trying to ascend in power, which is part of it, sure, but not the whole picture. It also sounds kind of pretentious."

"Yeah," Westin added. "We’re about more than just becoming strong. We’re about changing the Pantheon itself, influencing the world for the better."

They all fell silent again, the weight of their decision pressing in. The name had to be right—it had to capture not only their aspirations but the bonds they had forged through battle and shared ideals.

Cal, who had been staring into the fire, spoke up. "What about something that symbolizes what we stand for? Strength, light, virtue, and unity. We’re aiming to form something unbreakable, a force that can’t be corrupted or weakened. Like a... Vanguard."

The others exchanged glances, nodding thoughtfully.

"The Radiant Vanguard," Sam mused. "It sounds like a group that protects, that leads. A force that stands firm, embodying the ideals we believe in."

Westin grinned. "And it carries the idea of being at the forefront of something bigger. We’re not just trying to follow the Gods—we’re trying to lead the way to something greater."

Quin leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of satisfaction settle over him. "The Radiant Vanguard. It has strength, purpose, and it reflects our commitment to more than just power. It’s about standing at the front, guiding the way for others."

Zach smiled, his voice brimming with excitment. "I think it fits. We’re more than a cohort now—we’re the Vanguard."

The name settled over them like a mantle, filling the room with a renewed sense of purpose. But as the weight of the decision sank in, Zach cleared his throat. "We need more than just a name. We need an oath—a promise we make to each other and to what we’re building."

The group nodded in agreement. An oath would bind them, not just in word but in spirit.

Quin closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of the words that could solidify their purpose. Slowly, he began, "We swear to stand united, to protect one another, and to fight for a future where the ideals of the Light Pantheon are upheld."

Sam picked up from there, his voice steady. "We swear to embody the virtues of the Gods—courage, wisdom, justice, honor, and compassion—and to guide the world toward a greater light."

Cal added, his voice firm, "We swear to share all secrets, to hold nothing back from one another, and to guard those secrets from the world. In unity, we are unbreakable."

Westin finished with a grin, "And we swear to grow stronger together, to influence the Light Pantheon itself and shape the future of this world."

The room was silent again, but this time, the silence felt powerful, charged with their combined resolve. The oath had formed, solidified in the fire of their commitment to each other and their vision for the future.

They stood from their seats, gathering in a circle, their hands clasped in the center. Quin looked at each of them, his voice steady and filled with purpose.

"Together, we are The Radiant Vanguard."

The others repeated the words, their voices strong and unwavering.

"We are The Radiant Vanguard."

As they spoke the oath aloud, their hands tightened in the center, a bond now formed between them, unbreakable and true. After the oath was spoken, the energy in the room shifted. The bonds between Quin, Zach, Cal, Sam, and Westin felt stronger, more defined. They were no longer just a cohort—they were a brotherhood, bound by their shared ideals and the oath they had sworn. But as the group prepared to relax, Quin felt a tension building inside him, a weight he had carried for too long.

Taking a deep breath, Quin stood, his expression serious. "Before we all head out for the night," he began, his voice quiet but firm, "I need to say something. Now that we’ve sworn to keep no more secrets… I have a confession."

The others turned toward him, curious but confused. Zach raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed. "What kind of confession?"

Quin’s eyes shifted around the room, taking in the expectant faces of his closest friends. He had spent so long hiding the truth, keeping this part of himself buried. But if he was going to be a part of this brotherhood, he couldn’t live with that lie anymore. "I’m not a Chosen One," he said slowly, the words feeling heavy as they left his mouth. "I’ve been saying I am, but it’s not the truth. The truth is... I’m actually the Son of Solarius. A Demigod."

For a moment, the room was deathly silent.

Zach, Cal, and Sam all stared at Quin, their faces a mixture of shock and disbelief. Westin, however, just blinked in confusion, tilting his head slightly. "Wait, why is this important?"

Before Quin could respond, Sam, ever the scholar, spoke up. "A Demigod, Westin," he said, his voice tinged with awe. "Demigods are direct offspring of Gods. They’re not just blessed with divine power—they are divine power. Quin isn’t just a follower of Solarius… he’s his son. That’s… incredibly rare. There hasn’t been a Demigod of any God or Goddess in either pantheon for a few hundred years."

Zach shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around it. "A Demigod? You’ve been hiding this from us the whole time?"

Stolen novel; please report.

Cal ran a hand through his hair, still flabbergasted. "That explains why you’ve always seemed... different. More powerful than the rest of us at times. That Solar Ascendance power you have just seemed far too powerful."

Quin nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he looked up again. "Yeah, that’s part of it. I wasn’t sure how to tell you all before, but now that we’ve made this oath, I had to come clean. It’s not just that I’m Solarius’ son—being a Demigod means I’ll be able to learn powers that were not bestowed upon me specifically. I should be able to learn them from other followers of Solarius, allowing me to possess far more powers beyond what my rank would normally allow. I do not know how much I will be able to learn at each Rank, but every power is a massive gamechanger."

Westin, still processing it, shrugged. "Well, that doesn’t sound bad. So, you’ve got more powers? Seems like a good thing to me."

“Not yet, I haven’t learned any, but I desperately need to after our close call with the Shadowmaw,” Quin explained.

Zach leaned back, arms crossed, still looking a bit stunned. "Yeah, but it’s not just about powers, Westin. A Demigod’s existence carries weight—political, religious… even the Gods themselves pay attention to someone like Quin."

Cal furrowed his brow, thinking through the ramifications. "So... basically, you’re going to be far more powerful than you let on. And anyone who finds out about your true nature could react—let’s say, strongly."

Quin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Exactly. That’s what I’m worried about. Once my identity comes to light, the Dark Pantheon will send assassins after me, and by extension, after all of you. If they know who I really am, they’ll see me as a direct threat to their plans. It’s not just about the extra powers—I’ll be a target, and so will anyone who’s close to me."

Sam nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of Quin’s words. "That’s true. The Dark Pantheon will go to great lengths to eliminate someone like you. But... honestly? They’re already trying to kill all of us anyway. Being a follower of the Light Pantheon makes us enemies in their eyes, whether you’re a Demigod or not."

Zach grinned, the tension breaking slightly. "Yeah, Quin. We’re already on their hit list just for existing. You being a Demigod doesn’t really change that. If anything, it just means we’ll have someone even stronger on our side."

Cal smirked. "I agree. Having a Demigod in the brotherhood? Sounds like a damn good advantage to me."

Westin laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Extra spice to our lives. Makes things more interesting, don’t you think?"

Quin couldn’t help but laugh at Westin’s remark, the heavy weight that had been pressing on him for so long finally lifting from his shoulders. For the first time, he felt free—free from the burden of hiding who he was, free to embrace his true nature with the people he trusted most.

"Alright," Quin said with a grin. "I guess I should’ve known you all wouldn’t be phased by this."

Sam smiled. "We’re in this together, Quin. Demigod or not, you’re one of us. The Vanguard."

“I also have a confession to make,” Westin said from where he sat. Everyone turned to look at him, dead serious. “I have a romantic interest in the male gender. I like men.”

Silence followed this proclamation where everyone simply looked at Westin. Then Cal spoke up. “We know Westin. It's pretty obvious.”

“Wait no! It was a joke. I was making a joke guys,” Westin protested.

“Its okay Westin, you can be yourself around us. We won’t judge,” Quin said stoically.

“Oh come on! Can’t you guys take a joke,” Westin continued to protest. Everyone else continued to maintain stoney faces and reassure that Westin was loved and accepted no matter what team he was batting for. Deep inside, as everyone reassured Westin, they were laughing, finally pleased that one of Westin’s jokes backfired. They all knew despite never saying it, that they would never let this one go.

As the night wore on, they laughed, shared stories, and discussed their future as a brotherhood. Eventually, one by one, they dispersed, each heading back to their respective temples and lodgings.

Quin, standing in the quiet of his suite after the others had left, felt a deep sense of relief. He had revealed his greatest secret, and instead of rejection or fear, he had found acceptance. His brothers had his back.

The next morning, the quiet of the early hours was broken by a knock on Quin's door. He opened it to find Lief Stoneheart, his mentor, standing there in his typical stern, no-nonsense manner. Lief’s eyes, however, held a weight of concern that Quin wasn’t used to seeing.

"Quin," Lief said, his voice steady but firm, "we need to talk. It’s time you truly prioritize your growth."

Quin blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Lief stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "The encounter with the Shadowmaw—it was too close. You all came back battered and barely alive. And it was a beast that, in scope of the world, is incredibly weak."

Quin’s stomach twisted with the memory of that fight. He had told his brothers about being a Demigod, and they had accepted him, but the truth of his weakness still gnawed at him. He hadn’t been able to fully protect them.

Lief continued, his voice hardening with conviction. "You’ve been neglecting your true potential for too long. You’re not just a follower of Solarius—you are his son. A Demigod. You have access to powers far beyond what any Chosen One could achieve. And if you don’t start tapping into that potential, you won’t just put yourself at risk. You’ll be risking the lives of everyone around you."

Quin opened his mouth to protest, but Lief raised a hand. "Listen. I cannot afford to let you continue down this path without utilizing every advantage you have. We’ve put off your deeper training for too long. I didn’t push it before because I thought you needed time to adjust. But after what happened, I won’t take that chance again."

Quin nodded slowly, understanding the seriousness of Lief’s words. "So what do you want me to do?"

Lief’s expression softened slightly. "You need to learn a new ability—one that will give you an edge in combat. We’ve neglected this part of your training, but no more. From today onward, you’ll be learning the powers that come with your birthright. But," he added, his tone becoming cautious, "you need to keep this ability under wraps for now. If word gets out that you're learning powers beyond what a normal follower of Solarius should have, it will draw unwanted attention—especially from the Dark Pantheon."

Quin frowned, his mind spinning with the implications. "So... what’s the first power I need to learn?"

Lief’s eyes gleamed with purpose. "I’ve decided to teach you one of my own powers—The Rhythm of Light."

Quin raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t heard of this ability before.

Lief motioned for him to follow. "Come with me. I’ll explain on the way."

They walked through the quiet courtyards of the Temple of Solarius until they reached one of the more secluded training grounds, a place used for specialized instruction. The open space was bathed in sunlight, the perfect setting for what Lief had in mind.

Once they were inside, Lief turned to Quin, his expression serious. "The Rhythm of Light is a tempo-based ability. You need to understand something about light—it has a frequency. Whether it’s the light of the sun, a torch, or any other source, that light vibrates at a specific rhythm."

Quin listened intently, his mind racing to grasp the concept. "So... how does this work in combat?"

Lief stepped into the center of the training ground, gesturing to the sunlight pouring down around them. "Light is everywhere, and it has a rhythm—like the pulse of energy that flows through the world. If you can tune into that rhythm, if you can find the frequency of the light around you, you can channel it into your attacks. When you fight in time with that rhythm, your strikes become far more potent. It’s like synchronizing with the power of light itself. The more attuned you are to the rhythm, the stronger your attacks become."

Quin’s eyes widened. "So if I find the rhythm of the light around me, I can use it to amplify my attacks?"

"Exactly," Lief said. "But it’s not as easy as it sounds. The rhythm of light changes constantly—depending on the intensity, the angle, and the source of the light. You need to listen for it, feel it in your bones. Once you do, it becomes like a dance. You ride the waves of light, and your attacks flow naturally with that power. But if you lose the rhythm, you’ll lose the connection."

Quin absorbed this, understanding the complexity of the technique. It wasn’t just about brute strength or even raw divine power—it was about harmony with the very essence of light.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Lief said. Lief stepped out onto the practice ground giving himself some space from Quin.

Lief stood tall and resolute, gripping his war hammer with practiced ease. He took a deep breath, and the air around him seemed to change. His spirit flared up in a golden hue, glowing faintly at first, then pulsing in rhythm with something unseen. His movements became fluid, almost graceful, as though he were dancing with an invisible partner. The golden light surrounding him pulsed in time with his every step, matching the movements of his body like a synchronized beat. It was mesmerizing to watch—Lief’s spirit and the light in the air were completely in harmony.

"Watch carefully," Lief said, his voice calm but filled with focus. "The rhythm of light doesn’t follow me. I follow it. My body moves with the light’s rhythm, not the other way around."

As Lief demonstrated, his war hammer began to move. He twirled it in his hands with ease, the golden aura around him flaring in time with his strikes. He was no longer just swinging a weapon—each movement seemed to carry more weight, more power, as if the light itself were amplifying his strikes. His swings were faster, sharper, more precise, all perfectly timed with the pulses of light around him. It was as if each strike had been crafted by the rhythm, punctual and unstoppable, landing exactly when and where it needed to.

The ground beneath Lief’s feet seemed to pulse in time with the rhythm, and every strike of his hammer created a ripple in the air, a tangible wave of energy radiating outward. His body moved with the rhythm, not rigid but fluid, as though he was one with the light itself.

Then, as smoothly as it had begun, Lief stopped. He lowered his war hammer, the light around him dimming, but the intensity of the demonstration still hung in the air. He turned to Quin, his expression thoughtful.

"I don’t know how to teach you this, Quin," Lief admitted. "When Solarius bestowed this power upon me, it came with an instinctual understanding of the rhythm of light. No matter the time of day, or what kind of light surrounded me, I knew the rhythm. It was as natural to me as breathing." He paused, his brow furrowing. "But I suspect it will be different for you. You’ll need to find the rhythm on your own, and that may take time."

Quin swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of the task ahead. "So… I just give it a shot?" he asked, feeling a little overwhelmed.

Lief gave him a reassuring nod. "Yes. Try to attune yourself to the light around you, just like I showed you. We’ll figure it out as we go."

Quin hesitated for a moment but then nodded. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the sunlight that bathed the training grounds. The warmth on his skin, the brightness that surrounded him—it was everywhere, and yet, it felt elusive. He thought back to Lief’s graceful movements, the way the light seemed to pulse in harmony with his body.

He raised his broadsword and tried to mimic Lief’s earlier movements, but the result was... less than graceful. Quin’s limbs felt stiff, his swings awkward and out of rhythm. The sword flailed in his hands, missing the natural flow of his body entirely. He tried to strike in time with the pulses of light he thought he could feel, but every time he swung, it felt forced, clumsy, like he was fighting against the rhythm instead of flowing with it.

He stumbled through a few more awkward strikes, and his attempt at following the rhythm quickly devolved into what could only be described as a very awkward dance. His broadsword flailed wildly, and his feet seemed to trip over themselves as he tried to keep up with the imaginary tempo.

Lief watched with a raised eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as Quin’s movements became more and more ridiculous. Eventually, Quin stopped, panting from the effort and embarrassment. He glanced at Lief, his face flushed.

"That… was bad, wasn’t it?" Quin muttered, already knowing the answer.

Lief, to his credit, kept his expression neutral, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "It wasn’t your best work," he said diplomatically. "But no one gets it right the first time."

Quin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I felt like I was flailing in the dark. How do I even start with this?"

Lief chuckled softly, crossing his arms. "It’s not going to come overnight, Quin. You’re trying to force the rhythm to follow you, but that’s not how it works. The rhythm of light isn’t something you can command. It’s already there, all around you. You just have to listen for it."

Quin frowned, still feeling the weight of his failure. "I’m not sure I even know what I’m listening for."

Lief placed a hand on Quin’s shoulder, his voice gentler now. "It will come with time. The light is in you, Quin—it always has been. You just have to learn how to feel it, how to trust it. We’ll keep working at it until you find your own rhythm."

Quin nodded, still frustrated but more determined than ever. He had failed this time, but he wasn’t going to give up. Not with everything at stake. He would learn The Rhythm of Light, no matter how long it took.

"Alright," Quin said, taking another deep breath. "Let’s try again."

Days blended together as Quin fell into the rhythm of his routine, his life a cycle of training, study, and introspection. Every morning began with mass, where he knelt in prayer, seeking the visions that had graced him once before. Yet, each time his prayers were met with silence, and his Divine Insight ability remained dormant. With every passing day, doubt crept deeper into his mind—had that first vision been real, or was it just a figment of his imagination?

The absence of further visions weighed heavily on Quin. He tried to brush it aside during his morning horseback training with Albert, his faithful warhorse, and in the rigorous sessions with his cohort. Together, the members of The Radiant Vanguard continued to strengthen their bonds and hone their skills. They laughed, teased each other, and worked hard to push their limits. But in the quiet moments, Quin couldn’t help but question his connection to Solarius.

Patrick Falter, the High Priest, continued to mentor Quin every few days. Under Falter’s watchful eye, Quin studied theology and the history of the Light Pantheon, learning about the Gods, their followers, and the ancient powers that shaped the world. Falter’s wisdom was vast, and Quin valued these sessions, but his mind often drifted to thoughts of his divine heritage. Patrick’s lessons occasionally contained the known history of Demigods and how the most gruesome and bloody wars contained them. Quin could not help but ponder whether or not Demigods being born into the world was just a catalyst and an excuse for conflict.

Then, there was Lauren. She visited Quin often, checking in on his recovery after the Shadowmaw fight and offering her quiet support. They’d walk through the temple grounds or sit together in the gardens, talking about life, their duties, and the small joys of the day. Lauren’s presence was calming, grounding Quin when he felt uncertain. But still, there was a growing frustration inside him. A feeling that he was falling short of something greater.

And every night, after the day’s responsibilities were done, Quin returned to the training grounds. There, beneath the dimming light of the evening sun, he stood alone, attempting to master The Rhythm of Light.

Lief had shown him the power, demonstrated it with effortless grace. But for Quin, it was an elusive goal. The concept was simple enough—feel the rhythm of the light, move in sync with it, and channel that energy into every strike. But brute forcing it, swinging his sword with rigid precision, wasn’t working. No matter how many times Quin tried to mirror Lief’s movements, it didn’t click. It wasn’t just a matter of physical strength or technique. It was about something deeper—something that Lief had understood instinctively.

But Lief’s understanding had been bestowed upon him by Solarius. For Quin, it wouldn’t come that easily. If he wanted to master this ability, he would have to grasp the concept on his own.

Each evening, Quin would sit in quiet meditation before attempting to train. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin, the subtle flickers of torchlight as the day faded into night. He focused on the light itself—the way it moved, the way it pulsed with energy. He tried to sense the rhythm Lief had spoken of, to feel the connection that would unlock the power within him.

Some nights, Quin felt he was on the verge of something—just a step away from understanding. There would be moments when he thought he had found the rhythm, when the light seemed to pulse in harmony with his movements. He’d rise from his meditation, drawing his sword, and attempt to move with the rhythm. But each time, the connection slipped away as quickly as it had come, leaving him frustrated and no closer to mastering the ability.

"Why can’t I feel it?" he would mutter to himself in frustration, gripping his sword tighter.

Desperate for guidance, Quin turned to prayer. Late at night, alone in his chambers, he knelt before his bed and spoke to his father, Solarius. "Father, please... show me the way," he prayed, his voice quiet but filled with longing. "I need to understand this power. I need to be stronger, not just for myself but for those who depend on me."

The prayers brought him a sense of calm, a warmth that filled his chest and made him feel connected to something greater. There was comfort in those moments, a feeling of belonging that soothed his soul. But that was all. No answers came. No sudden burst of understanding. Only the same calm warmth that Solarius’ presence always provided.

Quin stood from his prayers, feeling both reassured and frustrated. His connection to his father was real—he could feel it—but the guidance he sought remained out of reach.