The hum of the world pressed back in when he opened his eyes.
The glow of the inner forest vanished like a receding dream, and in its place came the muffled sound of a city's breath — chatter beyond walls, metal wheels clanking against stone, laughter sharp and far.
Caelum blinked once, twice. The faint pulse on his forehead dimmed, leaving nothing but the whisper of warmth beneath his skin. He exhaled softly.
Then he realized someone was staring at him.
V sat on the chair opposite the bed, long legs crossed, a cup of something red in his hand. The candlelight painted his eyes silver. He hadn't moved much — only leaned slightly forward, gaze fixed on Caelum with a mixture of curiosity and faint unease.
Caelum's hand drifted toward the edge of the bed out of habit, the air around him shifting imperceptibly. "...Why are you staring at me like that?"
V raised a brow. "You tell me, brat."
"What?"
The vampire's tone was mild, but his gaze didn't soften. "You went still. Completely still. For nearly an hour. No breath, no sound, no heartbeat I could hear. The air around you—" he gestured loosely, "—shifted. It was like sitting beside an open field after rain. Vibrant. Alive. And then it vanished. Just like that."
Caelum frowned slightly, more at the word heartbeat than the accusation. "That's strange."
"Strange?" V echoed, lips curving faintly. "You tell me. Was that your cultivation method?"
Caelum tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Why?"
"Because I'd hate to find you detonating the inn in your sleep," V said dryly, setting the cup aside. "So? What were you doing?"
There was a short silence. Caelum met his gaze — detached, almost blank — then blinked once. "Meditating."
"Right."
"Just… cleansing my mind."
V studied him for another heartbeat, as if weighing the honesty of the air around the words. Then he gave a small shrug and leaned back again, his expression unreadable. "Well, try not to purify the entire building next time."
Caelum said nothing.
But V's tone had changed. Not suspicion, exactly — more like the curiosity of a predator circling something it couldn't classify.
He ignored it.
Instead, he swung his legs off the bed, grabbed his cloak, and pushed the window open. The wind smelled faintly of smoke and spices. The city stretched beyond — a sprawl of uneven roofs, scattered towers, and rivers of glowing lines carved by floating lamps. It was nothing like the silence of the forest; here, life clashed, bargained, screamed, and thrived in chaos.
V rose lazily behind him. "You planning on climbing out the window?"
"No," Caelum said, stepping away. "I want to see what kind of world I've walked into."
...
The pair left the inn shortly after. Morning had draped the city in gold; the streets were lively, filled with the scent of roasting bread and the faint metallic tang of mana-laced steam drifting from forges. The City of Blossoming Ether was unlike anything Caelum had ever seen. Towering structures made of wood and stone blended with living vines that pulsed faintly with green light. Mana was not merely used here—it was woven into the fabric of daily life.
V moved ahead, silent as ever, but Caelum lagged slightly behind, eyes taking in every corner like a curious child.
A street vendor with blue-glowing skin waved at him. "You there, young man! Try some spirit fruits! Straight from the Rift jungles—enhances vitality!"
Caelum paused, inspecting the translucent fruits that shimmered faintly with ethereal colors. He tilted his head. "Enhances vitality how?"
The vendor grinned, showing too many teeth. "In every way possible!"
Caelum blinked, then nodded slowly. "...I'll pass."
V chuckled faintly from a distance. "You just avoided a scam. Congratulations."
"Scam? I thought it looked suspicious." He didn't say it but immediately he touched it, he didn't sense any forest mana from it.
"Good instinct," V said. "Spirit fruits don't glow like that unless they're laced with concentrated mana syrup—basically poison for anyone below Tier Two."
Caelum whistled lowly. "So the streets of this city bite, huh?"
"They do more than bite," V replied. "They chew."
---
The day passed in a strange rhythm—quiet steps, drifting conversations, and bursts of wonder. Caelum stopped to watch a group of children controlling small mana wisps like fireflies, laughing as the lights obeyed their gestures. He examined a merchant's collection of talismans carved with ancient runes, recognizing faint traces of forest sigils. When he touched one, it pulsed faintly, almost as if responding to his own inner mana.
The merchant, a kindly old woman, raised an eyebrow. "You've got good compatibility with nature energy, boy. That charm's practically singing to you."
He smiled faintly. "Guess it recognizes its kin."
She laughed. "Careful, or it'll start following you home."
---
As dusk neared, the city lights began to bloom—flowers of luminescent mana opening across walls, rooftops, and bridges. The entire city seemed alive, breathing in tandem with the rhythm of nature and civilization entwined.
Caelum and V stood by a railing overlooking the lower district. Below them, rivers of light flowed between the streets like veins of magic.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" V said quietly, eyes reflecting the glow.
Caelum leaned on the rail, gaze distant. "Yeah. It feels… alive. As if the whole city has a soul."
V smirked. "You sound poetic."
"Just stating the obvious." He tilted his head, studying the shifting glow of the horizon. "You've been here before, haven't you?"
"Once," V said, eyes narrowing slightly. "Didn't like it much then."
"Why?"
"Too many people pretending to be gods."
Caelum's lips curved faintly. "Maybe that's why I fit in."
V turned to look at him, something between amusement and intrigue flickering in his eyes. "You? Fit in? That'll be the day."
Caelum didn't respond. The wind carried the soft hum of the city through his hair, the faint murmur of life pulsing below like a great heartbeat. And somewhere deep within his chest, the sigil pulsed in rhythm with it—quiet, steady, and waiting.