The Sector Battle
A sacred tournament held once every 10 years, across all three kingdoms of Seryndor. Each ruler sends 3-4 chosen aura-sensitive fighters to represent their realm.
The top ten are sent through a dimensional veil known as the Naras Gate —
A doorway to another plane where they are trained by entities not bound to Nianzeel.
Very few return.Those who do… become leaders, Guardians, or Shard-chasers.
The true reason behind the Sector Battle?
To find the Shards of Raygon Drako, scattered across worlds, hidden in souls.
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The crowd gathered like ants around honey.Something was happening in the heart of Tier Two — and Kael, for once, wasn't early enough to avoid it.
The Queen's Seers had set up an impromptu Testing Spire, a black stone obelisk covered in living runes. Anyone who walked within ten paces had their aura pulse recorded, mapped, and judged. A flicker too strange, a color too rare — and they were marked.
Kael froze mid-step. He was only here for grain. Bread. And maybe, if his coin held out, a dried sunfruit.
But now he was in a slow-moving line. People nudged forward without thought. The Seers wore mirrored masks — their faces a reflection of whoever looked at them. And just behind the obelisk stood a man in gold — Soren Valdrix, the Queen's high adjudicator. A Threadseer at minimum. Possibly Fracture-Bound. His cloak shimmered with aura-bending runes.
Kael looked left. Looked right. No exits. His heart beat harder. Not from fear — but from something else. The aura around the spire was pulling at him.Like it recognized him.
The woman in front of him stepped into the ten-pace circle. Nothing happened. Then a merchant. A flicker of blue. Calm aura. Passed.
Then Kael. He didn't want to walk. But his feet did.
Step.
Step.
Step.
At seven paces, the Spire glowed red. "Halt," said one of the Seers. Kael froze. He didn't do anything. His aura… was supposed to be dormant. A dull green, harmless. But it wasn't green anymore. The Spire pulsed — not red, not gold — but gray-white. Like mist trapped in stone. The Seers tilted their heads. Murmuring.
"Unknown frequency," one said. "Possibly Veil-touched? But…"
Kael's chest tightened. His vision blurred. He felt pressure, like his blood was trying to escape his skin. His mind screamed: Get out. Now.
A Flicker in the Crowd And then — a breath. A wind that shouldn't be there stirred the dust. A girl in the crowd — motionless until now — looked up. She didn't speak. She didn't move toward him.
But her aura shifted. The sorrow-loop fell away for an instant, and the Seers' heads snapped toward her — just as Kael's own pulse collapsed. The Spire dimmed. The glow vanished. Kael fell forward, knees slamming against the earth — but nothing happened.
Just a whisper from the lead Seer: "False reading. Dismissed." Kael was waved on. And behind him, El lowered her hand slowly.
Later That Night
Kael sat on the edge of his rooftop, bread untouched. He didn't know how he passed. He didn't know what they saw. He didn't know who she was. But when he closed his eyes,he saw gray mist, a pair of calm, watching eyes, and a whisper in a voice not his:
"You were not meant to be found yet."