In the profound stillness of Aethelgard, Kairen's new life had found its rhythm. It was a rhythm of patience, frustration, and tiny, incremental breakthroughs.
He had mastered the stillness of the waterfall, learning to find the silence within the chaos. He had fortified his 'Inner Sanctum' against the terrifying "Sorrow" echo, learning to be the mountain that withstands the storm. And, after agonizing, repetitive effort, he had learned to draw and maintain a continuous, stable "thread" of pure Cosmic Essence while his body was in motion.
Now, he stood on the wide, mist-kissed platform by the still, mirror-like lake. The single, shimmering thread of blue-white starlight was active, humming in his hand. It extended from his palm like a fluid ribbon of captured light, impossibly beautiful, but utterly formless.
