Morning light filled the Ashborne estate, spilling into the library where Zephyr Ashborne sat cross-legged on the polished floor. At six years old, he spoke clearly and read with confidence, his small fingers tracing the characters of the books laid before him.
"Energy… flow like water?" he murmured, pointing at a diagram of swirling currents. His brow furrowed as he tried to imagine the lines moving in the air.
Kael passed by the library, pausing with a raised eyebrow. "You're studying that alone?"
Zephyr looked up briefly. "Yes… I want… try myself."
Elara crouched beside him, smiling. "You're curious… but remember, not everything can be done at once. You must be careful."
Zephyr nodded seriously, though his small hands already began tracing motions in the air. He had watched the soldiers for months, noticed the faint currents of energy surrounding them, and now he wanted to test it for himself.
He stood in a quiet corner of the library, taking a deep breath. "Move… like wind… yes…" He raised his hands, fingers swirling, trying to guide the small, invisible currents around him. Nothing spectacular happened, only a faint stirring in the air, a subtle vibration that only Zephyr noticed.
"Hmm… not strong… yet…" he whispered.
Later that day, he moved to the garden, carrying a small book with diagrams of sword movements and energy flow. Alone, he tried to mimic the motions, moving his hands slowly, imagining the flow of energy as if he could see it in his mind. Leaves rustled around him in the breeze, and for a moment, he felt the faintest connection to the world, as if it responded to his attention.
He sat down and began scribbling observations in a notebook he had secretly made:
"Energy… move small…"
"Hand… wave… maybe flow…"
"Wind… follow… like leaf…"
Night fell, and Zephyr lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Dreams came again—shadows of another life, fleeting faces, a sunbeam on a desk, laughter and sadness mingled. He shivered slightly, trying to make sense of it.
"Dream… me… Earth… no… yes?" he whispered. The fragments made him uneasy, but they also drove him to experiment, trying ideas he couldn't explain.
By the next morning, Zephyr returned to his little corner of the garden. He tried small experiments, moving objects, tracing motions, speaking softly to himself: "Flow… yes… up… down… hmm…" He tested repeatedly, noticing patterns, feeling subtle responses from the world around him.
Elara found him late in the afternoon, crouched in the garden with a few blocks arranged in a circle. "Zeph… what are you doing?"
"Testing… see… maybe energy… flow?" he replied. "Not sure… but… I try."
Kael leaned against the garden wall, smiling. "He experiments alone. Curious, bold… stubborn. He's learning in his own way. Not strong yet, not perfect, just trying."
Zephyr laughed softly, picking up a block and tossing it. "Fall… fast… slow… hmm… like wind." He twirled around, arms wide, imagining currents moving around him, feeling tiny echoes of the techniques he had seen but could not yet master.
For now, Zephyr Ashborne was still just a child—bold, curious, and independent. But in secret corners, in quiet gardens, and in the soft whispers of his dreams, he had begun taking his first steps into cultivation, driven by instinct, curiosity, and a faint echo of a life he barely remembered.