Shun stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the towering structure before them, a crystalline spire that glowed faintly with an inner light. The summit was alive with the quiet rhythm of ether, a force that bound the place together, giving it purpose and protection. His dark eyes traced the spire's edges, sharp and unyielding against the twilight sky, as if it held secrets he had yet to unravel. After a long moment, he turned to Xin, a small, approving smile softening his usually stoic features.
"You know what to do," Shun said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of unshakable confidence.
Xin nodded, his expression one of quiet determination. He raised his hand, and the familiar weight of the dharma wheel materialized in his palm, its intricate carvings glowing faintly as he lifted it toward the sky. With his other hand, he reached behind him, sliding the silver Jian back into its sheath with a soft click. A pulse of ether shimmered around him, rippling outward like a stone dropped into still water.
The dome that enveloped the summit began to shift. Its once-brilliant light softened, dimming to a faint shimmer before transforming entirely. Golden hues bloomed from its core, spreading like wildfire until the entire summit was bathed in a warm, radiant glow. The protective barrier pulsed in rhythm with the life around it—trees swaying gently in the breeze, the distant chatter of summit dwellers, the steady light of the spire itself. It was more stable now, more vibrant, a testament to Xin's growing mastery.
He had only recently perfected the art of conjuring the dome, a skill that had taken months of trial and error. Xin could still recall the early days after he joined the summit—his hands trembling as he tried to channel the ether, the dome collapsing in on itself or flickering out like a dying flame. Back then, he had been a stranger in this place, a wanderer seeking purpose. Now, the dome stood firm, a shield that could withstand the harshest of storms. It was progress, tangible and undeniable.
Yet, for all its strength, Xin's dome lacked the quiet serenity of Shun's. Shun's presence alone could hush a restless mind, his ether weaving calm into the very air. Xin's miasma, by contrast, was unyielding. It protected, yes. It shielded with unmatched endurance, fueled by his surplus of ether. But it did not soothe. It did not ease pain or lighten burdens. It was a fortress, not a sanctuary.
Perhaps that was because Xin had not yet found himself. Not truly.
Still, it was functional. That counted for something.
Shun, ever the patient mentor, had guided him to this point. There were times when Xin wondered if Shun's skill as a mentor was the full truth or if Xin's own desperation to belong, to trust, had made him a quick learner. Either way, Shun had been there, steady as the spire itself, offering guidance without judgment, wisdom without expectation.
"Alright, that's set," Shun said, clapping his hands once, the sound sharp in the quiet air. He turned to Xin, one brow raised in a familiar, teasing arc. "Did you eat already?"
Xin rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "I just came back, so… not really."
Shun's grin widened, a rare spark of mischief in his eyes. "Come on!" he said, stepping forward and placing a firm hand on Xin's shoulder. "You won't be able to grow those horns of yours if you don't eat!"
The gentle jab caught Xin off guard, and he let out a low chuckle. Shun's humor always had a way of sneaking up, lightening the weight of the moment. With the dome fully formed and the summit secure, the two of them turned and made their way down the winding path toward the mess hall, the golden light casting long shadows behind them.
The summit grounds were alive with activity at this hour. Ether-workers moved with purpose, their hands glowing as they channeled energy into tools and structures. Hunters and scouts wove through the crowd, their armor clinking softly as they exchanged quick words. Scholars huddled in small groups, their voices low as they debated theories or scribbled notes on parchment. The golden dome overhead bathed their faces in a warm glow, lending the scene an almost dreamlike quality. It was a place of order, but it thrummed with life, a heartbeat that never faltered.
The mess hall stood at the heart of the summit, a large circular hall reinforced with crystalline beams and enchanted floors that kept the interior comfortable no matter the weather outside. As Shun and Xin stepped inside, the aroma of spiced odd vegetable, smoked meats, and fresh broth enveloped them, warm and inviting. The vitality of conversation filled the air, punctuated by the clatter of plates and the occasional burst of laughter.
Quite a few people had already gathered. Tables were scattered with groups of summit dwellers—some eating quietly, others engaged in animated discussions. At a far corner, Xin's eyes caught a flash of reddish-orange hair, bright as a flame. Lira. She was in the middle of a lively conversation, her hands moving with the same energy that defined her. Beside her sat a quieter figure, a girl whose presence was softer but no less striking. Lira's voice carried across the hall, and she suddenly pointed in Xin and Shun's direction.
The girl beside her turned her head at lightning speed.
In an instant, she was up, her small frame darting through the crowd with surprising agility. Before Xin could fully register her movement, she collided softly into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. He barely had time to react, but his arms came around her instinctively, steadying her as she pressed herself against him. For a moment, the noise of the mess hall faded, replaced by the warmth of her embrace.
They had grown close over the past year.
Her name was June, and she had been deaf and mute since birth. When Xin first met her, he had been at a loss. He had tried speaking to her, his words falling into the void of her silence. But where others might have seen a barrier, Xin saw a challenge—a bridge waiting to be built.
He had spent days learning to sign from his memories, teaching himself to listen with his eyes instead of his ears. It hadn't been easy, Recalling those horrible memories of the Cyborgs feeding him information shoving books and virtual scrolls into his face but it had been worth it.
Xin was able to teach June with his limited knowledge, He had learned that June was supposed to be transferred to an orphanage in the black theatre but she was misplaced. He had asked her if she wants to go back...she was strongly against it, Her frail form slightly shivering. She was mistreated bullied and abused because of her disability but June's quiet strength, her stubborn curiosity, reminded him of someone he had long tried to forget: Rami younger twin. Though the twins had been mute, not deaf, there was something in June's spirit that echoed Rami's—resilient, unyielding will.
June pulled back slightly, her eyes bright with emotion as she looked up at him. Her hands lifted, moving with practiced grace as she signed, her fingers dancing through the air.
"Xin! What took you so long?"
Xin smiled, his own hands moving in response, slow and deliberate but steady. "I was getting something just for you."
Her eyes widened, sparkling with wonder. Her hands fluttered, quick and eager. "What is it?"
Xin's smile turned playful, his fingers forming a teasing reply. "You'll have to wait until your birthday for that. Be a good girl until then, okay?"
He leaned forward, gently tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. June's face lit up with a soundless laugh, her joy spreading across her features like sunlight breaking through clouds. She nodded eagerly, her hands signing a quick, "Okay, okay!" before she grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the table where Lira still sat, watching them with a knowing grin.