Rain fell softly over the worn cobblestones of Ashenreach Village, soaking the ground as villagers passed by the crumbling gates of the once-glorious House Velthorn—a name now spoken only with pity or scorn.
Inside that forgotten ruin, beneath the crooked roof and shattered stained glass, sat a boy with messy black hair and a rust-stained coat far too big for his frame. His name? Officially, Kaien Velthorn. But no one called him that.
To most, he was "the Fool of Ashenreach."
"Oi, Kaien!" a voice barked from outside. "You comin' to the Selection or not?!"
Kaien blinked, one eye larger than the other thanks to an old scar that never healed properly. He scratched his head and yelled back, "Only if they're giving free food again!"
"You'll need more than food when they see you don't have a single spark of Essentia!" the voice laughed and walked off.
Kaien stood up, stretched like a cat, and muttered, "Yeah, yeah. Maybe I'll surprise them. Or fall on my face again. Both are entertaining."
---
The Selection Grounds
A thousand young warriors lined up in clean robes, family sigils shining like gold against their backs. Proud names: House Flamereed, House Silvryn, House Nirod. Each name a legacy. Each child a symbol of that legacy's strength.
And then Kaien arrived.
Wearing a patched coat, his sandals unmatched, and a goofy smile that seemed to irritate every instructor.
From a balcony above, High Guardian Zelvan narrowed his eyes. "Why is he here?"
"No idea," muttered Mistress Veyra, a cold-eyed examiner. "That House was extinguished in the Crimson Fire. He's the only survivor."
"Does he even possess Essentia?"
"Not a drop. He's failed every basic test."
"Then why does he look like he's already laughing at us?"
Below, Kaien was miming a dramatic battle pose with an invisible sword, earning a few snickers and several glares.
---
The First Trial
The first challenge was simple: summon your Essentia Spark.
One by one, students stepped forward. Flames burst from palms, winds howled, stones rose, and even light bent. Families cheered.
Then came Kaien.
He stepped onto the platform, bowed with exaggerated grace, and held out his hand.
Nothing happened.
Five seconds. Ten. Twenty.
The audience began to murmur.
"He doesn't belong here."
"He's a joke."
"An insult to real Houses."
Kaien scratched his head, then suddenly shouted, "WAIT! I FEEL SOMETHING!"
Gasps echoed.
He reached deep, focusing hard. His eyes flickered—not with power, but with mischief.
He clenched his fist and—
BURP!
Everyone went silent.
Then laughter exploded. Even the instructors couldn't suppress their grins.
Kaien bowed again. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week!"
---
A Glimpse of Something Else
As Kaien walked away, still smiling, Naomi Silvryn—the top prodigy of the year—watched him carefully. Her long silver hair shimmered in the breeze, her golden eyes narrowing.
"He's... odd," she whispered.
"What's odd?" her companion asked.
Naomi didn't answer. Her gaze lingered on Kaien as he walked away.
For just a moment—one fleeting second—she'd seen something when he tried to summon Essentia.
A flicker.
A crack.
A spark of something ancient. Something dangerous.
Something even older than the Real Gods.
---
Kaien scratched his back, yawned, and muttered, "Guess I'll grab lunch before I get kicked out."
And just like that, the greatest fool in the world unknowingly took the first step toward a future where he would battle gods, reshape time, and carry the soul of a world on his back.
But today?
He just wanted dumplings.