The village of Eldenwood seemed to hold its breath that morning. Smoke rose in thin columns from chimneys, children clutched small carved charms, and the old women along the lane dabbed at their eyes with rough cloth. Standing at the east gate, Nox Vale pulled his cloak closer against a wind that smelled of pine and distant rain. Beside him, Raven stamped the mud from his boots, already restless, already brimming with impatient energy.
Eldran stood between them and the road, his white hair catching the dawn like a halo. Around his wrists the runes on his robe pulsed faintly, in time with the forest's deeper heartbeat. Villagers bowed and called quiet blessings; some pressed little tokens into Nox's hand. The smith's charm, the baker's bread, a child's crudely painted stone. Tokens of home, fragile and fierce.
"You carry the rhythm of Eldenwood," Eldran said when the farewells thinned. "Not because I told you so, but because you have listened."
Nox inclined his head. He did not show the calculation running behind his eyes — routes to the city, likely beasts on the path, the resonance signatures he might encounter. He folded possible tactics in his mind as naturally as breathing.
Raven punched Nox lightly in the arm. "Enough brooding. Let's get moving." His grin bent the morning; his crimson aura flared for an instant, like a lantern struck.
They walked. At first the talk was light — shared memories, silly boasts, the quiet chattering of boys who had grown together. But the road widened, the trees thinned, and Eldran slowed, falling back to walk between them like a shepherd. He had promised lessons during the journey; he was a man of his word.
"Before Astralis tests your hands," Eldran said, "I will test your understanding."
He halted beneath a low oak and drew a small sigil with a deliberate motion. From fingertip to ground the air shivered; faint glyphs of light hovered, folding into a seven-rung wheel that pulsed like a heart.
"This," he said, "is how the world speaks of power. You will learn to read it."
He began to speak, and the words were half lecture, half ritual — meant to land in bone, not just mind.
The Resonance Hierarchy
"Resonance is layered," Eldran said. "Every level has three stages: Initial, Median, and Peak. The difference between Initial and Peak of a level can appear as wide as the gulf between two levels. The Academy measures both level and stage. Your advancement depends on training, discipline, and choices."
He tapped the lowest ring and the glyph brightened.
1. Initiate — The spark awakens.
Initial Stage: You perceive resonance — heartbeats, faint auras, the hum of a blade. Practical use: simple sensing and tiny defensive wards.
Median Stage: You channel personal energy reliably. Practical use: short-lived minor spells, stabilizing your own pulse.
Peak Stage: You can externalize a small aura that influences a single minor creature or a handful of objects. Practical: deterring pests, synchronizing basic beats in a beast.
Eldran let a sprig of fern float into the ring. It trembled, then shivered as a faint silver thread wrapped it — a demonstration of Initiate-Peak.
"Most villagers are Initiates," Eldran said. "The Academy will not bother with them unless they show movement toward the next level."
He touched the next ring.
2. Adept — Control grows.
Initial: Controlled bursts of resonance — a short projection that can knock aside or sway a small beast.
Median: Short-range projection with sustained influence. Practical: displacing opponents, keeping more than one minor creature at bay.
Peak: A sustained resonance aura, able to coordinate a small pack or stabilize equipment under stress.
"Adept is where taming begins to matter," Eldran said. "An Adept-Peak can lead a hunting pair. They can also be dangerous if temper lacks discipline."
He moved his hand again.
3. Ascendant — Spirit and core unify.
Initial: The user begins to merge spirit-core with resonance; perception deepens.
Median: Mind-body synchronization — minor healing, greater stamina, reading intent.
Peak: Merge with a beast for brief moments; amplify an ally's energy.
"Ascendant is where leadership through resonance begins," Eldran murmured. "Not leaders of armies — leaders of wards, guardians of places."
4. Vanguard — Resonance alters the field.
Initial: Weak element manifestation.
Median: Alter small terrain features (solidify a moat, raise a wall of earth briefly).
Peak: Reshape the battlefield for short durations.
5. Ethereal — Phase and passage.
Initial: Semi-ethereal senses; weak intangibility.
Median: Pass through fragile matter, phase-shift attacks.
Peak: Field-phase control for short incursions.
6. Mythic — Reality yields.
Initial: Influence localized laws — gravity, flow of water.
Median: Imprint an area with persistent effects.
Peak: Create permanent landmarks of resonance; myths are born here.
7. Legend — Resonance touches creation.
Initial: Presence alters whole regions.
Median: Cross-dimensional ripples begin — you may influence distant tides or dreams.
Peak: A Legend-Peak is a fulcrum; their resonance can anchor or fracture realms. There are, at most, nine in the world at any time.
Eldran's hand hovered over the outermost ring longer than he needed to. "Legends are not trophies," he said quietly. "They are burdens. People call them gods until the cost shows."
He looked at Nox and Raven. Nox's face remained the same mask of calm, but the sigils had drawn something out of him — interest, calculation, recognition. Raven's gaze was raw and eager.
"Where do you think you stand?" Eldran asked.
Raven snorted. "Where I always stand: ready to smash anything trying to stop me."
Eldran's lips twitched. "A blunt answer. You are Initiate-Median brimming toward Peak in raw resonance. Your strength is an engine; it will demand restraint to be guided."
He turned to Nox. "You are Initiate-Peak leaning toward Adept-Initial. Your advantage is synthesis — you see patterns. With training you will accelerate faster than brute force alone."
Nox tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. The assessment matched his private calculations; it did not surprise him. It steadied him.
Eldran added one final thing. "Levels measure capability. Stages measure readiness. The Academy ranks recruits by both — it pairs young tamers with beasts based not only on strength but on the harmony between beast tier and practitioner stage. A Beast of Tier Three should bond only with at least Adept-Median. That is how lives are saved."
Raven whistled softly. "So it matters who you fight with."
"It always matters," Eldran said. "You will meet masters who will teach you to rise through these stages — combat masters, beast-masters, strategists. They will test more than your power: they will test your choices."
Nox looked down the road toward Valdareth, where the city's far spires glinted like teeth on the horizon. "Then we will learn," he said simply.
Eldran's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "You will. But remember — resonance answers to purpose. If your purpose is selfish, your resonance will be crooked; it will bite you."
They resumed walking. The road dipped and climbed; fields opened and closed like pages. With each step, Nox reviewed the levels in his mind, folding the knowledge into strategies already forming. Raven, meanwhile, hummed an old training song and cracked his knuckles, thinking in muscle rather than in maps.
Behind them Eldran's presence remained a steady metronome — teacher, guardian, secret-keeper. As the city bells of Valdareth rang faint in the distance, a subtle vibration passed through Nox's bones once more — not the forest, not Eldran. Something else. Far-off, patient, and waiting.