Chapter 2 — Ash and Morning Light
The scent of scorched wood hung thick in the air, a smoky veil draped over the village. Ash clung to the rooftops like gray snow. Even the morning sun seemed hesitant to rise, casting only pale rays through the low clouds.
Elias sat at the edge of the village square, perched on a stone ledge beside an old well. His hands rested on his knees, bruised and slightly scraped from the night before. He turned them over slowly, studying the unfamiliar smoothness of his skin, the leaner structure of his fingers. Younger, yes, but also different. Stronger. More precise. It was like someone had reshaped him for a purpose.
He flexed his fingers, trying to remember what they used to look like.
Across the square, villagers moved with subdued urgency. They swept up debris, boarded broken windows, checked on one another. A few carried buckets of water to douse the embers of what had been a storage barn. Children watched him from behind their mothers' skirts, eyes wide and cautious. He wasn't sure if they were grateful or afraid.
Probably both.
Xiao Lan emerged from a narrow alley, a fresh bandage wrapped around his forearm. He wore a patched brown tunic and a simple cloth sash. His dark hair was cropped short, and his thin frame seemed built more from survival than strength. He waved as he approached, his eyes brighter than the rest of the village.
"You didn't sleep," he said, sitting down beside Elias.
Elias shook his head. "Too much in my head."
"I thought maybe you'd run off."
Elias gave a tired smile. "I don't even know where 'off' is."
They sat in silence for a moment. A cool breeze stirred the ashes in the square.
"You saved someone," Xiao Lan said. "Most outsiders would have run."
"I thought about it," Elias admitted. "But something kicked in. Like instinct."
"Instinct doesn't make a stick glow."
Elias glanced down. He hadn't forgotten that moment. The second swing, the heat that surged through his arm, the faint pulse of light. The way the demon spirit had disintegrated into smoke. It wasn't normal. Not even in a world like this.
"Have you ever heard of anything like that?" Elias asked.
Xiao Lan shrugged. "There are warriors with powerful spirits. Some can make weapons out of light, fire, shadow. But you didn't have a weapon. You didn't even have spirit force… or did you?"
"I don't know. It's like there's something inside me, but I can't reach it."
Xiao Lan glanced at him, thoughtful. "There's someone who might be able to tell."
He nodded toward the edge of the village, where an old man leaned on a wooden staff, watching the villagers work. He wore a dark cloak with faded embroidery, swirling cloud motifs along the sleeves, and a jade pendant hung from his neck. His beard was long and thin, and his eyes sharp beneath bushy brows.
"That's Elder Tian," Xiao Lan said. "He was once a Spirit Master. Retired now. Doesn't talk much, but he knows things."
Elias stood, brushing ash off his pants. "Let's try."
They approached slowly. The elder turned as they neared, his gaze settling on Elias like a cold hand.
"You're not from here," Tian said before either of them spoke.
Elias hesitated. "No, sir."
"And yet you destroyed a spirit beast with raw force. With no soul scroll, no binding stone. Curious."
Elias's mouth felt dry. "I don't know how I did it."
The old man tapped his staff once against the ground. "You're carrying something ancient. I felt it last night. Not a demon spirit, not a beast soul. Something older."
Elias glanced at Xiao Lan, who looked just as confused.
Elder Tian continued. "You don't belong to the bloodlines of Glory City, yet you walk like someone who's seen death more than once. I've only seen that look in warriors who return from the Wastelands."
"Is that bad?" Elias asked.
The old man's lip curled in something that was almost a smile. "It's dangerous. But perhaps not bad."
He leaned forward slightly. "If you want answers, boy, you'll need to go where power gathers. Glory City. The Holy Orchid Institute. They won't teach you for free, but they'll sense what I sensed. That you don't come from nowhere."
Elias nodded slowly. "Then I'll go."
Tian raised a single brow. "You're not ready. But fate doesn't wait."
He turned and limped away toward the village's edge, leaving the two boys in a stunned hush.
They left at midday.
The village offered them supplies. Dried fruit, rice balls wrapped in lotus leaves, and a flask of sweet tea. A few people came to thank Elias quietly. Others just nodded from a distance.
Xiao Lan led the way through the narrow forest path, winding between gnarled trees and moss-covered stones. The canopy above grew denser with every step, casting broken shadows across the ground.
Elias moved carefully, still adjusting to the balance of his new body. His Earth self had always felt slightly disconnected from motion, clumsy at times, uncertain. But this frame? It responded instantly. Each step felt rooted. Each breath deeper.
Still, he was a stranger to the land.
"How far is Glory City?" he asked.
"A couple days. Maybe more if we rest," Xiao Lan replied, adjusting the pack on his shoulders. "Bandits roam near the river paths, so we'll stick to the old hunting trails."
The deeper they walked, the more vivid the world became. Vines with glowing blue leaves curled along the trees. Insects with translucent wings danced between blossoms shaped like glass bells. Even the air felt alive, charged with a low thrum of energy that prickled across Elias's skin.
"What's this place called?" he asked.
"The Whispering Hollow," Xiao Lan replied. "Old forest. Some say it used to be sacred, back when the world was whole."
"And now?"
"Now it's just dangerous."
Elias took a deep breath. "I need to learn how to fight."
"You will. The Holy Orchid Institute takes people like you, if you show potential."
"And if I don't?"
Xiao Lan didn't answer.
That night, they camped near a quiet stream. The stars burned brighter than anything Elias had seen on Earth, clustered like silver embers across the velvet sky.
He sat on a flat rock, staring at his reflection in the water.
His face was sharper now. Youthful, but not childlike. Dark eyebrows, slightly sunken eyes with a quiet fire behind them. Hair longer than he remembered, falling just past his ears in uneven waves. There was a thin scar above his right collarbone he didn't recognize.
He reached up, fingers brushing it lightly.
Who had this body belonged to before?
Or was it shaped for him by fate, or something else ?
He didn't know.
But he would find out.
In the morning, they rose with the mist.
Their path would take them out of the Whispering Hollow by noon, and toward the stone road that led, eventually, to the towering walls of Glory City.
As they walked, Elias glanced back at the forest one last time.
Smoke still curled in the distance, faint against the trees.
He remembered the look in the villagers' eyes. Not gratitude, not awe.
Hope.
And that, somehow, felt heavier than any burden.
He adjusted the strap on his pack and kept walking.
Whatever this world wanted from him, power, purpose, war, he wasn't going to be its puppet.
Not this time.