Mhaerun District unfurled like an ancient scroll beneath twilight's breath. The streets, wide and gently sloped, were paved with dark basalt stones, each one carved with luminous runes that pulsed like slow heartbeats. These faint glows deepened as the sun dipped behind the jagged ridgelines, illuminating the path in soft threads of cerulean and gold, as though a celestial map guided each traveler by fate rather than design.
The buildings in Mhaerun stood close, draped in sweeping banners of deep navy and pearl-white, many with layered, pagoda-like tiers crowned in crescent-shaped ornaments. Their roofs curved upwards, gilded in moonmetal tiles that shimmered like frozen ripples of silver. Pale smoke coiled lazily from arched chimneys, carrying the scent of spice-root stew and crystal-brewed teas. Lanterns hung from thin silver chains, bobbing gently in the wind, glowing with foxfire.
Children darted between the streets, laughing and chasing after translucent creatures—beast spirits shaped like rabbits and owls—that playfully danced just beyond their reach. Vendors called out from under star-woven canopies, offering paper fans that changed color with breath, and enchanted candy that made one float for a moment with each bite. The air smelled faintly of juniper and dreamdust.
Down one such radiant path walked a strange trio. Nocth, clad in a robe of faded charcoal-gray, simple yet clean, with the soft glint of threadbare thread reflecting the street's pale lights. His gaze was passive, deep, yet quietly alert.
Relin walked beside him, the ever-composed instructor with a hawk-like presence, dressed in his typical bone-white tunic etched with runic seams. He bore the composed energy of someone who never wasted motion, his eyes scanning, but relaxed. His hands were clasped behind his back, posture flawless.
Anni, trailing slightly ahead, held Nocth's hand with the cheer of a blooming star. Her hair was tied in a playful bun with a long ponytail flouncing behind, bound by thin ribbons that shimmered like moonlight. Her attire was adorable yet ceremonial—silk-white robes stitched with soft blue and lavender thread, forming swirling patterns that, if one looked closely, resolved into the silhouette of a snowy fox dancing under falling petals.
She skipped ahead, humming a children's tune—a cheerful lilt that many in the district recognized. With every third step, she turned back toward Nocth, pulling funny faces and mimicking animal ears with her fingers. Her joy was so pure, so unfiltered, that even the quietest corners of the ancient district seemed to respond—lanterns glowing a little warmer, wind brushing more gently.
Nocth watched her, silent as always. But inside, something stirred. Not the chill of warning or the phantom ache of his burden. No—this feeling was warmer, quieter. It had no voice, only presence. A stillness that came not from death or fate, but from something innocent and long-forgotten.
And then Relin spoke, his voice carrying like wind over water.
"Nocth. Where are you from?"
Nocth blinked. The words struck like an unseen current.
"I... don't know," he answered, voice low, the truth tasting both empty and full. "I remember nothing of before I woke up. No parents. No place. Only..."
He trailed off.
Relin tilted his head slightly. "Only?"
Nocth's eyes narrowed, as if drawing from a distant horizon. "Only... flickers. Not memories. More like dreams that whisper in shapes."
Relin was silent.
Nocth finally spoke again, his voice slightly hushed. "I see... stars, but they aren't above. They're beneath. And I am standing in a field, but the field is made of drifting thoughts. I feel like I'm speaking—but no one hears me. I'm walking... endlessly, and behind me, the world folds inward, as if reality were ink soaking into a book's last page. I hold something, but it keeps changing—sometimes a thread, sometimes a blade, sometimes... nothing."
He paused, his fingers twitching slightly. "I always wake up then."
Relin said nothing for a moment, but his eyes shone. Interest. Doubt. Intrigue.
Something about this boy... he thought. Even his dreams don't belong to mortals.
Anni, still humming, tilted her head and peered at Nocth. "You okay, sleepyhead?" she asked, poking his shoulder.
Nocth blinked and offered her the faintest smile. She beamed back.
Relin cleared his throat. "Where I'm taking you, Nocth, will open your mind. To mystic arts. To what Vein Ascendancy truly is—not just power or prestige. But understanding."
As they walked further, the district began to change. The streets narrowed, archways becoming more elaborate. Now statues of beastkind stood watch—serpents, stags, cranes, and foxes, each carved in white stone and bound in silver ribbon. The runes in the stones here were older, deeper. They pulsed not just light—but sound. Faint tones, harmonic, vibrating in ancient rhythm. Music built into the bones of the place.
They passed a gathering of civilians in prayer. Veil-wrapped elders whispered incantations toward an open courtyard where a glowing beast-shaped sigil hovered midair. Some citizens wore elegant robes with small fox masks hanging from their belts.
Relin turned to Nocth again.
"This place was built by those who understood the unity of form and spirit. They saw veins not just as channels—but as worlds. You're not just climbing levels, Nocth. You're peeling layers off the universe."
Nocth said nothing, but the flicker in his ancient eyes deepened.
At the end of the road stood a towering structure. A temple? A fortress? Perhaps both. Its surface shimmered in moonlight, glasslike, reflecting not what stood before it, but what one imagined.
Anni grinned and pointed. "That's where we're going!"
Relin stepped ahead, pausing only to glance back.
"Come. Tonight is the first page of your second life."