The encounter with the silver-haired girl—Sera—lingered in Kael's mind like a haunting melody. It was a stark contrast to the dull, grey reality of his life. The orphanage, a sprawling, draughty stone building known as the "Hearth's Hope," was less a home and more a holding pen for the unwanted and the unchosen.
He pushed open the heavy oak door, the familiar scent of weak stew and woodsmoke washing over him. The common room was bustling with the evening meal. Clusters of children and teenagers sat together, but the groupings were never random. They were dictated by the invisible lines drawn by the Paths.
In one corner, a boy with sharp eyes and quick fingers practiced making a coin disappear and reappear behind another boy's ear. A faint, mischievous shimmer of energy, like heat haze, danced around his hands. *Kitsune Path. Illusionist.* They were always grouped together, the tricksters and the scouts.
Near the fire, a broad-shouldered youth with a stern expression was meticulously polishing a practice sword. His focus was absolute, and there was a solid, unwavering air about him, like a mountain. *Griffin Path. Guardian.* He was surrounded by others who shared that same aura of duty, their Paths leaning towards defense and strength.
Kael's arrival was met with a few sidelong glances. Some were pitying. Most were indifferent. He was part of no group. He was a ghost at the feast, moving silently toward the pot of stew to get his portion. His solitude was a cage he had lived in for years.
"Look what the alley cat dragged in," a voice sneered. Roric, a lanky boy two years his senior, blocked his path. Roric's Path had manifested just last month—the **Manticore Path**. It showed in the cruel glint in his eyes and the way his fingers twitched as if longing to unleash venomous spikes. He'd become exponentially more aggressive since his awakening. "Still nothing, Ardyn? No little puppy Path to call your own?"
Kael said nothing. He'd learned long ago that engagement only fueled the taunts. He tried to step around, but Roric shifted, blocking him again.
"Maybe you're not meant to have one," Roric continued, his voice dropping to a malicious whisper. "Maybe you're just… empty. A blank. A nobody."
The words, meant to sting, only echoed the fear that lived in Kael's own heart. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his jaw tight. The weight of the katana on his back felt heavier than usual, a constant, silent reminder of the legacy he didn't understand.
"Leave him alone, Roric."
The voice was quiet, but it cut through the room's noise with an unexpected authority. Every head turned.
Sera stood just inside the doorway, having entered unseen. Her violet eyes were fixed on Roric, her expression unreadable. The faint glow of the firelight caught the silver thread in her hair and the delicate chain on her wrist.
Roric, for all his bluster, faltered under her gaze. It wasn't fear of her power—her Path, if she had one, was as much a mystery as Kael's. It was something else in her presence, a gravity that demanded pause.
"This doesn't concern you, new girl," Roric muttered, though some of the confidence had drained from his voice.
"It concerns the peace of this hall," Sera replied, her tone even. She didn't move toward him, didn't raise her voice. She simply stood there, and her stillness was more powerful than any threat. "And your peace seems to be a disturbance."
A tense silence hung in the air. Finally, Roric scoffed, shooting a final glare at Kael before turning and stalking back to his friends.
Kael let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He looked at Sera, a mixture of gratitude and confusion on his face. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know," she said simply. She walked over to the stew pot and served herself a bowl. She moved with a grace that seemed out of place in the rough hall. "It is a cruel thing, to be judged solely by what power you possess, or lack." Her eyes met his, and again he saw that deep, inexplicable sadness in them. It was a look that understood his isolation intimately.
"You sound like you speak from experience," Kael ventured cautiously, taking a bowl for himself.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Let's just say I understand the weight of expectations."
They found a quiet spot at the end of a long table, away from the others. For a few minutes, they ate in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable. For Kael, it was the most natural silence he'd experienced in years.
"Why are you here?" he finally asked. "At the Hearth, I mean. You don't… you don't seem like the rest of us." He gestured vaguely at the room full of orphans and cast-offs.
Sera looked down at her bowl, her spoon tracing a pattern in the broth. "My circumstances changed. This was the only place left to go." She looked up, and her gaze was piercing. "What about you? You carry a weapon. You know of the Paths. Yet you claim none."
Kael's hand instinctively went to the wrapped hilt of his katana. "It's just a keepsake. And I don't *claim* none. I *have* none. Trust me, I've waited."
"Perhaps you are not listening correctly," she said, her voice so low he almost missed it.
"What?"
Before she could answer, a commotion erupted at the main door. The door slammed open, and two City Watchmen entered, their polished armor and grim expressions silencing the room instantly. The Watch was only staffed by those with combat-oriented Paths. Their presence here was never a good sign.
The head watchman, a man with a grizzled beard and the hard eyes of a seasoned **Dragon Path** bearer, scanned the room. His gaze landed on the caretaker, an elderly woman named Matron Helga.
"Matron," he said, his voice a low rumble. "We're here on orders from the Temple of Divinity. A search."
A nervous murmur ran through the room. The Temple of Divinity oversaw the awakening and registration of all Paths. Their influence was absolute.
"A search? For what?" Matron Helga asked, wringing her hands on her apron.
The watchman's eyes continued to sweep across the faces of the children. "For a latent power signature. Anomalous. Unregistered." His eyes, cold and assessing, paused for a fraction of a second on Kael before moving on. "Something… forbidden has awakened in this city. We will find it."
Kael's blood ran cold. *Forbidden.* His encounter in the alley. The strange, fleeting power he'd felt. The déjà vu. Was it possible?
He glanced at Sera. She was no longer looking at the guards. She was looking directly at him, her violet eyes wide with an emotion he couldn't decipher. It wasn't fear. It was something closer to… dread.
And in that moment, Kael knew with terrifying certainty that the emptiness inside him was about to become the most dangerous thing in the world.