Two years passed like the turning of a page.
In that time, Zend Kly transformed from a curious farm boy with a strange needle to a young warrior in training, carving his path in solitude.
Every morning, before the sun had fully risen over Little Wind Village, Zend would slip from his bed and head to the treehouse by the forest's edge. It became more than a hideout it was his sanctuary, his battlefield, his academy.
The first four months were grueling.
For two entire months, Zend struggled to form his Mana Core. Most students in prestigious academies formed theirs within days or weeks guided by instructors who funneled their own mana into the students' bodies to awaken their senses.
Zend had no such luxury. No teacher. No guide. Just books, his instincts, and sheer will.
On the 61st night, as the wind howled outside his treehouse and the stars blinked silently above, Zend finally felt it a spark deep within his navel, like flint striking stone. His breath caught as heat bloomed in his belly, forming a glowing point of light.
His Mana Core was born.
Though slow by academy standards, he had done it alone. And that made all the difference.
By that time, he had already memorized the entire acupuncture system from his borrowed texts. He knew every pressure point, every meridian, every hidden gate of the human body.
In the fourth month, he began learning to control his black needle with Light Telekinesis. Though the skill was weak and imprecise, Zend trained until he could guide his Aether like a surgeon with a scalpel.
But its lack of power frustrated him. The needle lacked speed. Lacked weight. It couldn't even pierce thick hide without perfect placement.
Still, he trained. And trained.
Until one morning, in the fifth month, the forest whispered danger.
It began with silence.
Birdsong vanished. The breeze died.
Then, animals poured from the woods rabbits, foxes, deer sprinting wildly past his treehouse.
Zend peeked out of his window, heart racing.
"What's happening?"
Suddenly, the trees rustled. Then, something emerged from the undergrowth.
A massive serpent, its body thick as a man's torso, slid into the clearing. Its eyes glowed with hunger. Its scales shimmered with faint mana. Two glowing sigil rings wrapped around its body markings of a Tier-2 Beast.
Zend froze.
But the snake saw him.
And struck.
He leapt from the treehouse, hitting the ground hard, rolling to his feet. The serpent lunged. Zend dodged, barely missing its fangs as it struck where he stood a second before.
He summoned his needle.
Thk!It darted forward, controlled by telekinesis, but bounced harmlessly off the serpent's scales.
Not enough force.
Zend ran between trees, circling the beast, leading it into tighter cover. Branches. Roots. Rocks. He needed a perfect shot.
Then he saw it an opening at the base of the serpent's jaw.
He focused everything all his mana, his concentration into the needle.
"Now!" he shouted, and let it fly.
Shlick!
The needle pierced clean into the soft spot beneath the serpent's skull.
The beast twitched… then collapsed, thrashing once before going still.
Zend collapsed to his knees, chest heaving. Blood pooled under the snake's body. He approached carefully, retrieving his Aether and noticing something glowing just behind its fangs.
The Beast Core.
A shimmering orb the size of a golf ball, swirling with faint blue and violet energy.
Zend picked it up, trembling. "A Tier-2 Core…"
He remembered something from his books an ancient, risky method of evolving an Aether. Injecting foreign mana directly into the artifact using beast cores.
The risk was massive. Many failed. Aethers could be damaged. Or destroyed.
But Zend had no time for slow progress. His needle was Grade F, the lowest of all. Evolution through normal means could take years.
He also remembered something else.
The ring on his needle.
Just like the rings on the serpent.
"It's a sign…" he muttered.
For the next month, Zend experimented. Trial and error. Theory and pain.
Finally, he made a desperate choice.
He swallowed the core.
The moment it hit his stomach, his body went berserk.
Fire and frost battled inside him. It felt like a thousand burning needles stabbing every inch of his flesh. He couldn't scream only convulse in agony, mouth foaming, vision swimming.
For five hours, Zend endured torment alone.
And survived.
When he woke, the moon was high. It was 9 p.m.. He staggered home, soaked in sweat, barely coherent. His parents scolded him, but he could barely hear it. He stumbled into his room and collapsed.
Then, through his Soul Chamber, he looked at his Aether.
Two glowing rings encircled the base of the needle.
He had succeeded.
The next morning, he tested it. In the woods, he stalked a deer and launched his needle with telekinesis. It grazed the creature barely a scratch.
But seconds later, the deer collapsed, foam dripping from its mouth.
Poison.
The needle had evolved.
Time passed.
Zend continued to train, refining his telekinesis, studying every effect of his Aether, and sometimes sparring with Chris, who often visited from the city. Chris was growing stronger too his legendary dragonblade mastering new forms by the week.
But Zend kept up. Quietly. Relentlessly.
By the time he turned twelve, he was no longer just a boy with a needle.
He was a contender.
And soon, he would prove it because the day of the Academy Trials had come.
A tournament would be held in Glory Hall, where the strongest and most talented children of Wind City would fight.
The best academies would be watching.
And Zend Kly would be ready.
As the day of the Academy Trials drew near, excitement buzzed through every village and city across Gaia. For children who turned twelve that year, it was a chance not only to prove themselves but to be chosen.
Chosen by one of the Five Great Academies of Gaia.
Each academy was renowned across the land, each specializing in a unique field of mastery. Though scattered in origin, they had all gathered in a single legendary city:
Skyviolet, the City in the Clouds.
Floating high above the ground, connected by massive mana pylons and aerial runes, Skyviolet was a marvel of ancient magic and engineering. It served as neutral ground, home to the greatest institutions of learning and combat training in the world.
The Five Academies, known collectively as the Pentacrest, were:
1. Aetheris Sanctum (Academy of Healing Aethers)A peaceful academy surrounded by gardens and medicinal springs, Aetheris focused on training Aether-bearers whose artifacts could heal, purify, and preserve life. Graduates were known as "White Hands" respected even on battlefields for their ability to turn the tide of war with a single touch.
2. Bastion Wardhall (Academy of Protection Aethers)Towering like a fortress within Skyviolet, Bastion trained those whose Aethers served as shields, barriers, or defensive constructs. Its students were immovable on the battlefield bodyguards, wardens, and protectors without equal.
3. Arcanum Obscura (Academy of Magic and Elemental Aethers)A spiraling spire of arcane energy, Arcanum specialized in elemental mastery fire, water, lightning, wind, and more. Only those with the most attuned Aethers and precise mana control could survive its brutal magical curriculum.
4. Crimson Fang Academy (Academy of Offensive Combat Aethers)A rugged, battle-worn arena school where strength spoke louder than words. Known for its brutal training and gladiator-style duels, Crimson Fang forged warriors who fought at the front lines. Their motto: "Strike First. Never Fall."
5. Astra Nova (The Unified Academy #1 in Gaia)The crown jewel of Skyviolet. Astra Nova accepted only the best of the best those with talent beyond classification. It combined all fields: healing, protection, magic, and offense. Legends and heroes were born here. Its graduates often became generals, sages, and kings.
Zend knew of these academies through whispers in books and stories passed down by traveling merchants. And now, one of them might become his future.
But which one would accept a boy with a needle?
Even among the prestigious institutions, unconventional Aethers were often dismissed. Especially those born of common materials. But Zend no longer saw his Aether as weak.
He had poisoned a beast. Controlled its flight with will alone. His Aether had evolved.
And he would continue to evolve with it.
Skyviolet awaited. And so did the eyes of the Five.