Morning broke over Tianwu Valley with brittle silence, sunlight spilling over ruins and the stubborn grass clawing its way through stone cracks. Kael Ren rose slowly from the hard floor of what had once been a prayer chamber, every muscle aching in unfamiliar ways. The dream's silver aftertaste lingered in his marrow, something bright and sharp that defied exhaustion.
He remembered the sensation too clearly—the way his breath had kindled with light, power flowing as easily as blood. Now, in the gray chill, it felt impossible. But something in his bones said otherwise.
He rubbed his stiff neck and went straight into the yard, breath misting in cold air. The broken pillars cast long shadows. Kael moved, trying to fall into the old forms—the ones Elder Jian Mo insisted must be mastered before any progress. This time, each stance felt deeper; movements came easier, like the dream had unlocked something hidden.
Last night… Was it only magic? Or have I truly changed? Kael thought, tightening his fists. He repeated the new breathing rhythm, not quite daring to hope, but unable to resist. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Energy flickered under his skin—a prickle, a pulse, a glimmer like distant heat in winter.
Above him, the sky was a vault of faded blue, cut by ragged clouds. Across the valley, a hawk shrieked. Kael launched a punch at the air, half expecting every illusion to collapse. But his limbs moved with uncanny lightness, a coil of strength inside waiting to be released.
"Again," he grunted, toes digging into frost-bitten earth.
A sudden, faint crunch echoed behind him. Kael turned—and found Yue Lin stepping through a broken gate, hair loosely tied, eyes sharp beneath the shadow of her brow. She carried a staff, and a wary defiance layered her greeting.
"Training before dawn?" she asked, glancing at the shadowed circles beneath his eyes.
"Couldn't sleep," he replied, letting his arms fall to his sides.
She circled him, gaze flicking to the ground where cracks spread from where he'd been practicing. "The elders will think you're breaking the foundations," she teased, but her voice was quieter than usual.
Kael shrugged, uncertain whether to feel pride or fear. "Better me than the monsters."
Yue Lin's face softened for a heartbeat. "You look… changed."
He hesitated, weighing honesty, pride, and the hunger to keep his secret a little longer. "Maybe I dreamed something useful. Maybe I just want to survive."
A hint of envy darkened Yue Lin's eyes. "We all want the same, Kael. But dreaming doesn't heal wounds. Or feed bellies."
A horn sounded—one of the lookouts, signaling from the wind-scarred tower. The sound sliced their conversation, followed by the unmistakable clamor of nearby voices, desperate and panicked.
Kael's heart thudded. Yue Lin's grip on her staff tightened. Both ran toward the commotion.
They arrived to find Elder Jian Mo already there, kneeling beside two battered disciples, blood spattering their tattered robes. Both gasped for breath, eyes wild with terror.
Jian Mo rose as Kael and Yue Lin approached. "A beast—bigger than before. Driven mad. It chased us all the way from the east pass," one disciple choked out.
Footsteps thundered in the far alley. A third figure barreled into view—a boy not much older than Kael—face split by a fresh gash, clutching a pouch as if it contained his soul.
"It's coming!" he screamed.
Kael stiffened, energy prickling up his spine as the ground itself seemed to tremble.
The earth vibrated beneath their feet, a low rumble like the growl of a beast finally awake. Kael's breath hitched, muscles tightening as every instinct screamed at him. The boy's scream tore through the valley, terror shining clear in his wide eyes as he clutched his pouch like a last treasure.
Without hesitation, Jian Mo positioned himself between the boy and the advancing shadow. "Prepare yourselves," he barked, voice rusty but full of iron. "This creature has hunted and killed many today. It's mad with hunger and rage."
Kael's thoughts scattered—fear, adrenaline, and something deeper mingled in his blood: the ember of last night's dream-power, faint but present. He summoned his breath, slow and deliberate, willing that silver energy to rise as his lungs filled and muscles coiled.
The creature burst from the crumbling alley—a monstrous, grotesque beast larger than any Kael had ever seen. Its jaws gaped wide, saliva dripping from bloodstained fangs, and its claws churned up dirt and stone. Rage shimmered in its eyes as it charged down on them.
Yue Lin moved with swift authority, her talisman casting pale light that danced along the beast's hide, trying to slow and confuse it. Jian Mo stepped in, staff swinging with a crack, striking the beast's snout and buying a second of breathing room.
Kael's heart thundered. The dream's instructions echoed through his mind—inhale until marrow tingled, hold through the burn, exhale with force. He mimicked the rhythm, feeling the silver power wake beneath his skin.
The beast roared, lunging at Jian Mo. Kael didn't think—he moved, palm open and raised, harnessing the memory and power of his dream. He struck the beast's jaws. The force of the blow rippled silver and the creature jerked back, stunned by the sudden pulse.
The battle was quick but brutal—Jian Mo landed heavy blows, Kael and Yue Lin coordinated their attacks, their synergy surprising even themselves. The monster slashed and howled, but their combined efforts began to turn the tide. At last, Kael planted his feet, his breath burning with raw energy, and delivered a final strike that knocked the creature sprawling, sending it limping and bleeding into the retreating mist.
For a beat, silence reclaimed the valley. Every survivor stared, breathless and wide-eyed. Kael's hands shook, terror and exhilaration warring in his chest—could this really be his own strength?
Jian Mo gripped his shoulder, voice grave but full of pride. "This is only the beginning. Your dream has given you power, Kael, but it brushes against something far darker."
Kael nodded, letting the resolve steel inside him. The old world was falling apart, and, wounded or not, he would not go quietly with it.
As dawn etched the ruins with pale light, Kael stood taller. No longer the boy cowering in broken halls, but a spark of something new and dangerous—someone breathing not just for survival, but for the right to fight.
When the echoes of the beast's retreat finally faded, Kael let his shoulders slump, sweat slick on his brow. His arms ached, but inside, that river of power trickled on—a steady, impossible reassurance. For the first time since the world fell, he believed in the chance for change.
The rescued disciples huddled in shock. One stared at Kael as if seeing him anew. "Was that… did you use a forbidden technique?" His voice quivered, equal parts fear and awe.
Kael shook his head, truth heavy on his tongue. "I… don't know what I used. Only what I dreamed."
Yue Lin observed him with new wariness, but also something like hope. "Whatever it was, it saved us. And it shook that thing to its bones." She pressed a hand over her heart, chest heaving. "We need more than luck next time, Kael. Can you teach us?"
A long moment passed. Kael looked to Jian Mo. The elder's gaze was thoughtful. "Perhaps, with time. But for now, let us tend the wounded and reinforce the old wards. Every victory feeds legend, not just survival."
They gathered, Kael's role suddenly different—no longer a shadow at the edge, but the quiet center of attention. While cleaning his wounds, he watched the valley as sunlight climbed the cliffs and painting everything in fragile gold. Exhaustion flooded him, yet underneath thrummed a relentless curiosity: What else waited in his dreams? How much further could he push this impossible inheritance?
Later, when the makeshift clan huddled over a meager breakfast, Yue Lin nudged him. "Tell me the truth. You're not afraid, are you? Not after that."
He hesitated, then let a small, honest grin slip out. "I'm terrified. But this—" he flexed his hand, feeling the coiling web of new strength, "—feels better than waiting to die."
She laughed, a harsh sound turned softer. "Then let's be terrified together—but refuse to give up."
Jian Mo, listening nearby, gave a slow, approving nod.
As morning wore on, Kael found himself amidst new rituals. He and Yue Lin worked to clean the blood from the main hall. A battered disciple asked him for insight on a stance, and even Jian Mo deferred to his intuition.
But when dusk threatened again, Kael withdrew to the highest balcony, gazing out over the battered world. The memory of breath, of light kindled in the marrow, lingered like a song caught at the edge of hearing. He wondered if the future would come to him again when he slept, or if this gift could be snatched away as cruelly as it had appeared.
But for tonight, the valley breathed easier. Kael drew in a lungful of crisp air and closed his eyes. He was a remnant, a dreamer, a survivor. Tonight, he was also something more—the first spark in the darkness.
He would not let it die.
End of Chapter 2.