The First Rumblings
The Temple of Sparks had begun to hum with life. Under Hei Long's watch, and with Qingxue, Yexin, and Yuran's steady teaching, the pilgrims were no longer mere shadows — they were shaping stone with their palms, bending water with their breath, writing glowing glyphs across blank walls. The city was no longer a handful of buildings; it had become a living thing, its streets full of murmured practice and flickering sparks.
But creation breeds its own shadows.
Late one evening, as the last group of students filed out of the training square, Hei Long stood watching from the Temple's steps. His cloak trailed across the stone, the Origin's light steady beneath it. He could feel a disturbance — a pulse in the new power that did not belong to his teaching.
Jealous Sparks
It began as murmuring among the students. Some had progressed quickly, their sparks bright and steady. Others stumbled, their sparks guttering. Envy grew in the slower ones.
