There was a village nestled in the crook of a dying valley, where the earth no longer remembered how to bloom. It had no name, not officially, though travelers who happened upon it spoke of a place with crooked roofs and silent winds, where the sky hung lower and time moved sideways.
Here, the lanterns burned with cold mosslight. They didn't flicker. They pulsed, slow and steady, like the heartbeat of something sleeping beneath the soil.
The villagers hung silver bells on their doors to ward off spirits, but none rang anymore. Either the spirits had left, or they'd stopped caring.
Nothing loud ever happened here. Not laughter, not anger. Just the endless hush of a world that had already forgotten itself.
Some from the unknown depths said the Flow used to touch this place, once. That the River had a stream carved through these lands, back when gods still walked and magic still hummed in every stone. But whatever it once held had faded. The River did not mark this place anymore. It did not whisper here.
And perhaps… that was why he remained.
Revyn Cael.
He walked the roads barefoot, as he often did in the early mornings, before the sun fully dared rise. The dirt was cold under his feet, the stones smooth where others had worn them down over decades.
He carried no pack. No tools. Just the simple blue-gray cloak sewn from a fabric even his grandmother couldn't name.
People nodded as he passed, their eyes glazed with early sleep or the dullness of repetition. But they never really saw him. not for more than a moment.
One blink too long, and it was as though he'd already turned a corner they hadn't noticed. They forgot his name the moment he left the room. Sometimes even while he was still in it.
The baker once swore she had no idea who had returned her lost ring, though Cael still had the scrape on his palm to prove it.
The blacksmith called him "the neighbor's boy," though he lived in the same house he had since he was born.
But he didn't blame them.
Some part of him understood.
He wasn't… meant to be remembered. Not yet.
The wind moved through the valley in long, breathless exhales. It passed him by like it didn't notice, though he felt it chill his skin.
Something just beneath the edge of hearing, where silence quivered.
Kael tilted his head upward, watching the clouds drag across the pale morning sky like bruises.
The village was waking.
He would begin his day like he always did, alone, quiet, with nothing to guide him but that strange ache in his chest that pulsed like the mosslight.
But today, the ache was stronger.
And somewhere far beneath the cracked stones and the ruined shrines, something ancient was listening...
But put aside that for now, as today is the 'Day of Remembrance', the day in which masters of each respective paths comes to villages in search for children with natural affinities.
In this realm, there exists many paths, paths in which hold many powers, paths that give hope and sorrow to those who wield it.
These paths are specifically three, the 'Oathforged' Path, the 'Eldrune' Path, and the 'Pulsebound' Path. Each path having their own unique features.
Each path respectively has professions of 'Guardians', 'Arcanist' and 'Heavenwalkers'.
The 'Guardians' are not born but forged. From the shattered banners of empires and the haunted echoes of sacred wars, the Knight Path calls to those who swear their lives to meaning sharper than steel. The 'Oathforged' do not channel power — they become it, shaped by oaths that twist through blood and blade.
Magic is not merely spoken — it is remembered, it is written, it is bound. To be an 'Arcanist' is to climb through layers of forgotten script, forbidden theorem, and divine equations etched into the bones of reality. Practitioners are not merely wielders of spells, but architects of resonance, threading ancient thoughtforms into existence.
The 'Pulsebound' Path is not a path at all; it is a return. To a time before language, before will, before gods. It is the breathing of mountains, the stillness of stars, the thrum of veins long turned to gold. Those who walk it seek not domination, but resonance, to become one with the eternal pulse that winds through all living things.
And with this knowledge, many in the village were excited, wanting to be accepted and be a part of the greater world, though there are some who winced in fear of leaving the village which they felt comfort in.
Three masters gathered within the center of the village road; they each had an item within their hand to see if any of the children had an affinity.
"No response here, you can try checking with the masters of the other paths to see if you have an affinity with them" said by the arcanist, he looked old but wise, fickle but powerful.
Revyn Cael, who was among the people in the crowd, wished to change his destiny, he didn't want to be in the village anymore, the only thing he had left to cherish in this village was his grandmother, but even she had long left this world.
The village barely know of him, as if his entire existence was meant to be forgotten, meant to not exist.
He looked at the three, one an Arcanist with a long purple robe showing his allegiance to the Tower of Poisons, one a Guardian with a majestic gold armor with a badge at his glove representing the House he is from, and a Heavenwalker whose body looked pristine yet strong, his clothes were of black and white, representing the academy of which he is from
When Revyn appeared in front of them, he was cautious and tried to gain the attention of the masters.
When they saw him, they were a bit perplexed, because they weren't able to sense him, thinking that he concealed it somehow. But that wasn't the case.
They couldn't sense him, not because he concealed his presence, but because the world itself hadn't realized he was there.
But despite this, they gave him a chance.
"Originally we were planning to leave since we thought we had scanned everyone, but who would've thought you too were there, now if you may, please reach out to each of our artifacts to see your affinity"
The Heavenwalker practitioner chuckled, he was from the "Inner and Outer Heavens Academy", and from their conversation, Revyn was able to deduce their names, the Arcanist is called "Caros", the Guardian is called "Selvet Gorrand", while the Heavenwalker is called "Liu Yu".
It turns out Caros is from an 'Arcane Tower', showing his prestige, while Selvet was actually from the 'House of Gorrand' which was the Noble House that ruled the area which his village was in.
As for Yu? From his name alone it can be said that he was from the eastern continent called "Veltrys". Ever since the war between the western continent "Tharion" and the eastern continent, the war of ideologies and merger of paths thousands of years ago, there has been reconciliation.
And with that reconciliation gave way to the "Caedralyn Alliance" in homage to the man who stopped the war to show peace and prosperity among the lands.
Revyn was ecstatic and quickly went in front of the three and toward the artifacts that they each have.
The Rune stone that the Arcanist possess could help identify those with affinity to the arcana that dwells around everything, but the moment Revyn was about to touch the rune, it shattered.
This was confusing for the three, and in response the other two brought out a pendant and a crystal, the pendant was an artifact to seek those who have affinity to aura and the crystal was to see who had affinity to qi.
but nevertheless, it too was destroyed.
This was unprecedented, a boy with no power within him had destroyed three artifacts which even they themselves would struggle to overpower.
In the end, they couldn't do anything, and simply just sighed, they couldn't tell whether the child was of talent or not, maybe this discovery was just to show them that the three paths were rejecting him.
Revyn watched the three walk away with the children they have recruited, while complaining that the artifacts were destroyed on the way.
He was dejected, he thought the rejection meant that he truly was not needed in life, the village forgets him, and now the artifacts themselves felt repulsive.
Seeing this, Revyn ran, he ran as far as he could from the village, but while he ran, he collapsed.
It truly is a pity; a child whose eyes held a touch of glimmer has now lost its light.
Revyn didn't know how long he had run for, before long he realized that the day now turned to night; in order to not attract any animals, he ran to a small cave opening which was nearby.
It was where he always ran to when he had no comfort, he had no one to turn to, hence treating it like a home.
But when he was about to enter, he saw a strange light, it was not bright but was enough to attract attention in the darkness.
He went in and saw a crack on the wall.
"T-This, it wasn't here before?"
He was perplexed, he knew that the cave walls were strong and sturdy, they were perfectly fine in the morning, but somehow a crack appeared at night.
But soon, the crack widened, and it got to the point where in which he felt like he was being pulled into the crack.
"W-Wait! Let me go!"
He wailed but it done nothing, it was hopeless, and soon he was helplessly sucked away within the crack, with silence prevailing...
But as this happened, we see the Arcanist, on the carriage while pondering the situation that had happened.
He thought of Revyn not with curiosity, but with the quiet dread of a scholar realizing their grand theory had just been disproven by a child's breath.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, almost in a whisper, he muttered.
"That wasn't rejection. That was refusal… No. That was inapplicability."