The air inside the hall was thick, charged, and alive. Motes of golden energy swirled lazily, casting shifting patterns on the polished stone floor.
The chamber was vast, seemingly endless. Shards of floating light hovered in the air, twisting and snapping like lightning caught mid-flight. At the center, a pedestal of radiant crystal pulsed with raw energy, casting long, flickering shadows.
Caspian felt a tug in his chest—a thread of power calling to him, almost whispering. A booming voice filled the chamber, though no mouth could be seen.
"Caspian Ravenscroft, harmonize with the currents of Aeterion. If you are not aligned, you may be overwhelmed. Think carefully before moving forward."
The threads of energy moved around him, brushing against his thoughts, probing gently, testing his sensitivity. A warmth bloomed in his chest, subtle but undeniable. He realized it wasn't strength he needed—it was perception. Letting the energy flow through him, he allowed his body to react instinctively.
He reached out, and for the first time, the golden currents responded. Not fully, not with force, but just enough. A flicker of resonance passed through his mind—a whisper of energy, alive, awake, yet dormant.
The voice spoke again, softer now: "You feel it. That is Aeterion. You have learned to sense it. The path will open to you in God's names and the Light shall guide you."
Caspian opened his eyes. The motes of golden energy now seemed to hum in acknowledgment, and the pedestal's pulse matched the rhythm of his heartbeat. When he turned, he found himself already outside the hall, Lio waiting for him.
"The troublemaker is out," Lio said, grinning.
"What, you think I'd fail? So, how was it?" Caspian replied, sitting next to him.
"Not bad. I think I'll take the Rite test too," Lio said.
Caspian nodded. Both stood, Caspian heading toward the Ether Ascension Hall, Lio moving to the Rite of Illumination.
•••••
Caspian stepped into the Ether Ascension Hall, the door sliding shut behind him with a resonant click. The chamber was dim, lit by floating glyphs of pale, shifting energy. Wisps of light curled through the air like smoke, moving in deliberate, elegant patterns.
Immediately, he felt it—a subtle tug at his mind, delicate but insistent, like a faint current brushing his thoughts. This was different from the pulse of Aeterion he had experienced. Etherion was fluid, precise, almost musical—it was the core of life, after all.
"Caspian Ravenscroft," a soft, resonant voice echoed through the hall, "sense the threads of Etherion. Follow them; do not force them."
"Wait… it's you again? Are you sure?" The voice asked.
"Yes," he answered, without a trace of doubt.
The platforms beneath him began to rise, hovering over a void. Some spun slowly, others drifted in irregular arcs, testing his balance. Invisible currents tugged from every direction, subtle enough to unsettle him if unnoticed.
Caspian closed his eyes, extending his awareness. He let the currents brush over him, listening, feeling, not resisting. Slowly, the invisible threads became perceptible, faintly glowing along their paths.
A single wisp of energy floated toward him, hovering like a question. Caspian noticed a small plant in front of him, its leaves trembling as if caught in an invisible breeze. The glyphs above pulsed softly, and he realized the plant was responding to the same currents he was sensing.
Instinctively, he reached out, but instead of touching it, he focused on feeling the threads around it—the subtle flows of energy connecting everything in the hall. Slowly, the leaves began to sway in rhythm with his breath, bending gently toward him as if acknowledging his awareness.
A warmth bloomed in his chest. It wasn't power—not yet—but a faint resonance, a connection that told him he was attuned, even if only slightly. The Etherion core within him responded, dormant but alive.
The voice returned, surprised, almost shocked: "You feel it. The currents respond. That is your Etherion, dormant but yours. Learn to sense it, and the path will open."
Caspian nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. The platforms beneath him drifted more smoothly; the currents no longer threatened but guided. For the first time, he understood the rhythm of the hall—the invisible threads linking all things together.
He took a careful step forward, eyes still closed, letting his awareness flow outward. The plant leaned closer, the glyphs shimmered in acknowledgment, and a single wisp of light hovered at chest height, circling him once before darting ahead, beckoning him onward.
A quiet excitement surged through him. The core wasn't strong, not yet, but it was present. He could sense it. That faint, delicate thread of Etherion would be the start of everything.
*******