Atiyama narrowed his eyes at the horizon, the mountain looming ahead like some slumbering god carved from stone and light.
Even from this distance, he could feel it breathing, each pulse tugging at something deep inside his chest, a faint pull beneath his ribs, as if an invisible thread were reeling him closer.
The air shimmered faintly, the grass beneath his feet glowing with veins of pale blue light that hummed at his steps.
Each movement felt both weightless and heavy, like walking through the edge of a dream that could shatter into reality at any second. He didn't know how he'd gotten here, only that every breath in this world carried something otherworldly.
The silence pressed close—thick, alive, listening.
Then a distant voice cut through it.
"Hey! Wait!"
It was small, almost swallowed by the mountain's hum. A breeze whispered past him, carrying the scent of moss and metal. The light bent slightly.
And before he could turn—A hand slammed down on his shoulder. Atiyama's body reacted before his mind did. He spun, arm snapping up, every muscle wound tight and ready to strike.
The world seemed to slow—his heartbeat steady, his gaze locked forward. But instead of an enemy, he found himself staring into a pair of bright, amused eyes. The stranger grinned widely, the kind of grin that made you forget how fast your heart had been beating.
Wind tugged at his dark hair, and there was something reckless about him—like he didn't know what fear was, or just didn't care.
Atiyama exhaled through his nose, muscles slowly easing, but his gaze unbroken.
"You touch me like that again," he muttered, voice low, "and you're losing that hand."
The stranger laughed, a sound that carried a careless sort of charm.
"Whoa, easy there! Fair warning, huh? Noted."
Atiyama's muscles stayed tense, but something about the voice didn't set off alarm bells.
"Sorry," Kael said, tilting his head, dark hair whipping with the breeze. "Didn't mean to scare you. I'm Kael. Really glad to meet you."
Atiyama's pulse thumped against his ribs. He studied the hand still resting lightly on his shoulder—callused, warm, firm without malice—and then Kael's face, wide with that impossible grin, open and unthreatening.
His brain scrambled to catch up.
"You just—appeared," he said, voice sharp, rougher than he meant.
Kael chuckled, leaning back slightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to appear from nowhere.
"Heh. Got a little fancy with my footwork. Practicing disappearing for dramatic effect. Works on squirrels, apparently." He held out his hand with that same grin. "Here—shake. Official welcome to the forest… and, well, to surviving so far."
Atiyama hesitated, then accepted. Kael's grip was firm, steady, the kind that didn't hide anything and didn't press for anything either. For a heartbeat, the world felt a little less alien, a little less like it could swallow him whole.
The stranger said, grinning. "You look like you're new around here. Lost, maybe?"
Atiyama's brow furrowed, his tone dry. "That obvious?"Kael smirked, glancing him up and down. "Yeah. The mountain eats guys who look that confused. Figured I'd say hi before it decides you're lunch."
Atiyama huffed a short, amused breath despite himself.
"Appreciate the warning."
Kael cocked his head, curiosity suddenly sharper. "No kidding. You don't look like a travel-worn merchant or a hire-for-hire adventurer. Where are you from, friend? Village? City? Which sect sent you?"
Atiyama's chest tightened. The questions came too fast—names and structures he didn't recognize. He'd been careful not to come off as ignorant, but he'd already been revealed.
He forced his face to be smooth."Uh… small village," he lied smoothly. He'd learned to hide truths under polite half-truths. "Quiet. Far inland. I came to make a name for myself." He shrugged, feigning a casualness he didn't feel.
"You? "Kael." The other man said his name like a bright thing, like a favorite tune. "Stage One, choni." He said it without ego but proudly.
"Mortal Tempering still. Working my way up." He tapped his chest. "Been training on these lower slopes for a while. Learning how to sense Aetheris, pull a little when it's kind. I'm not big time—yet. But I've got days."
Atiyama blinked. "Stage One?" The term landed oddly in his mouth. He'd half-expected something more impressive. The mountain, the glowing grass, the humming bracelet—he'd assumed anyone here would be a master.
That Kael was still at a low stage made him both uneasy and oddly relieved. Kael laughed.
"Yeah, not a prodigy. I just enjoy moving, helping people, and trying new things. I have some stupid loyalty to an old mentor. That's why I'm up here. Trying to find something to bring back, you know?"
"At your mentor—?" Atiyama started, then stopped himself. But Kael caught the look and went on anyway, a grin flickering across his face.
"She runs this small training hall back in my hometown," Kael said. "Old lady—tough as steel, heart soft as a river breeze. She always said, 'If you've got two hands and a heartbeat, you've got no excuse not to help someone.'" He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "So I guess I'm still out here, putting that lesson to work. Making sure when I walk back through those doors, I've got something to show her—something that proves I listened."
Atiyama found himself relaxing fractionally. There was an honesty to Kael that didn't feel manipulative. He was also careful; Kael's eyes watched Atiyama the way a man watches a new knife—interested, respectful, and a little wary.
Kael studied him for a long while, the playful glint in his eyes dimming into something keener—measured.
"You move like someone who's seen a thing or two before," he said at last, his tone calm but probing. "But the way you look around... It's like you don't even know where you are." His head tilted, gaze narrowing slightly.
"You haven't been around cultivators much, huh? Don't even know the basics. You're not from anywhere near here." A pause. "Who are you really? A hidden sect dropout? Or really just some kid from the mountains who just wandered too far?"
Atiyama didn't answer immediately. The forest around them was quiet, save for the wind whispering through the leaves. He could feel Kael's eyes studying him, trying to read what was behind his calm expression. It was strange—this man wasn't hostile, but his presence carried weight. Confidence.
The kind of person who is used to seeing through others. Atiyama's gaze drifted toward the mountain's shadow in the distance before returning to Kael.
His voice came out steady, grounded, almost indifferent. "Yes, I really came from a Remote village," he said. "Didn't feel like farming until I died, so I left. Figured I'd try my luck out here."...….Kael huffed a short laugh. "Bold move. Most folks from those kinds of places don't even make it past the valley, let alone to a place like this."
Atiyama smirked faintly, his eyes half-lidded, voice low and sure. "Then I guess I'm not most folks." That line hung in the air—heavy, quiet, dangerous.
Kael's grin returned, wider this time, but there was a spark in his eyes that said he recognized something familiar in Atiyama. Not fear, not arrogance—but that unshakable calm people carried when they'd already faced something far worse than death.
Kael crossed his arms, chuckling under his breath. "Hah. You've got spirit, I'll give you that. Maybe enough to survive out here… maybe not."
Atiyama said nothing, just met his gaze with quiet certainty. His mind was already elsewhere, caught between curiosity and instinct. People here talk about cultivators and stages like it's normal… power feels alive in the air itself. This world isn't pretending. He exhaled slowly, almost smirking to himself. Fine then.
If this is the new game, I'll learn the rules. The wind stirred between them again—Kael watching with a faint, knowing smile, and Atiyama standing in that strange golden light, eyes cold but alive, like a Deity chained inside a human body.
Kael's gaze sharpened as his easy smile lingered. "Alright," he said, his tone half casual, half testing. "Village folks, huh? Always say they're from nowhere special, then turn out to be something else entirely." His eyes flicked to Atiyama's bare hands, then back to his face. "I should check something first. No offense, but last time I trusted someone who said they were from the middle of nowhere, they turnt out to be a rogue cultivator looking for an idiot to take from & then proceeded to try and gut me in my sleep!"
Atiyama's lips quirked into a faint smirk. "Sounds like you need to work on your judgment."
Kael huffed a short laugh. "Fair enough. My mentor said the same thing right before she taught me this little trick. Called it Aura Sense. A person's aura is everything—it's the language their soul speaks before their mouth does. You can tell if someone's a killer, a liar, or just a lost idiot trying to find their place."
He took a step closer, the joking tone fading from his voice. "But the stronger the person, the harder they are to read. Some can even fake it—build a false aura to fool others. Creepy stuff, huh?"
Kael's grin widened.
"Confident, I like that." He extended his hand.
"Alright then, no tricks. Just stand still." Atiyama didn't move, only watched as Kael's fingers hovered an inch above his wrist. The air between them rippled, faint sparks of invisible energy brushing like static.
Kael's brow furrowed—then his expression eased, replaced by a glint of surprise."Your aura's quiet," he said softly. "Not the silence of fear or weakness… more like restraint. You're holding something back."Atiyama met his eyes, his voice calm but carrying weight.
"Maybe I am. Or maybe this mountain just hasn't earned the right to see me yet." Kael blinked, then broke into laughter. "Alright, alright—you win that one. Whatever you're hiding, it's clean enough for me. You're no killer, no assassin. At least not one aiming for me."He stepped back, scratching his neck with a grin.
"Sadly, it only works on people around my level. So if you were some old monster wearing a young face, I'd be screwed." He laughed again, the sound easy and genuine this time.
"Guess I'll trust you, village boy. My gut says you're trouble, but the good kind."Atiyama smirked faintly. "Then you'd better keep up, because I'm not slowing down for anyone."
Kael let out a whistle, impressed. "Ha! I knew I liked you. Let's see if that confidence survives the mountain."The wind picked up between them, carrying the faint hum of Aetheris through the air.
For the first time, Kael didn't just see a lost traveler—he saw potential, raw and coiled like a storm waiting to break. And for Relief was a taste on Atiyama's tongue. He let himself breathe out. Being labeled "not dangerous" by a stranger in a strange world felt an odd kind of mercy.
Kael clapped his hands once, a crisp sound that carried easily through the open air. "Alright," he said, tone easy but sharp with confidence. "If you're really as new as you sound, listen close.
Aetheris—it's the flow of this world. Not just air or energy—it's life itself. It runs through everything. The ground, the sky, beasts, us. You breathe it, learn to move with it, and one day, you command it. That's what separates a cultivator from a corpse."
He gestured around them, his fingers cutting through the air as though tracing unseen currents. "Most can't even sense it. But some places—mountains, ruins, old battlefields—it thickens. You can feel it buzzing under your skin if you stand still long enough.
That's why everyone fights for those lands. The mountain up ahead?" He pointed toward the towering shape in the distance. "That thing's crawling with it. Beasts, relics, treasures, forbidden techniques—you name it. All soaked in pure Aetheris. The kind of place where a man can rise… or vanish."
Kael's grin carried a dangerous edge. "That's why there are sects, nations, and guilds. They hoard those spots. Train their disciples, build walls, gather resources.
The stronger you get, the more the world bends around you. Weak men pray. Strong ones make others pray for them. That's the order of things."Atiyama was silent, eyes following the line of the mountain's peak cutting into the clouds. His thoughts simmered beneath a calm mask. Power equals standing.
Standing means no one takes from you again. Not your food. Not your place. Not your life. The wind stirred, whispering through the leaves. Atiyama's gaze sharpened, something cold and steady flashing in his eyes.
"So strength is everything here," he murmured, voice low, almost to himself. "Good."
Kael raised a brow, curious. "You say that like it's personal."
Atiyama's lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk. "It always is."
"And rogues?" he asked, testing Kael's earlier comment."Rogues are the wild ones. No nation, no sect, no master. Some prefer it. Some get cast out. They're unpredictable—could be helpful, could be murderous," Kael stated, his tone matter-of-fact.
Atiyama cut in, his expression skeptical. "So, trust is off the table? Seems like a lonely way to live." Kael chuckled, shaking his head with an affectionate roll. "Not completely. I say trust a little. People who help make the climb sweeter."
They walked a few paces in companionable silence; Kael talked, Atiyama listened. The young cultivator pointed out a ring of darker moss on a nearby boulder—a pocket of denser Aetheris—and explained how training there could test one's endurance. He mimed the basic breathing cadence, exaggerated and friendly like a teacher with a class of one.
"You'll catch on faster than you think," Kael said. "Especially if you've got something that responds to the mountain." He glanced at the bracelet on Atiyama's wrist and, for the first time, looked genuinely puzzled rather than merely impressed.
"That trinket looks nice. You sure it's nothing special?"
Atiyama kept his face neutral. "Just a keepsake. From a woman who looked out for me." It was true.
Sister Hana had once been everything kind in his old life. Kael nodded as though satisfied, but the curiosity never fully left his eyes.
"Well. If you're willing to learn and not a danger, come with me. I'm heading to base camp so I can grab supplies and maybe spar with someone. You look like you could use company—and I like finding people to laugh with. Besides, the mountain's a lonelier place when you're ignorant, hungry & alone."
Atiyama glanced up at the mountain one more time—the glowing rings at its crest, the pockets of concentrated Aetheris glittering down its face, the path snaking into mist.
The pull at his chest tightened, a whisper of purpose."Alright," he said. "I'll go with you. But, for the record, I'm not exactly talkative. I'll say what I have to and nothing more." Kael whooped lightly and punched Atiyama gently on the shoulder.
"Perfect. I'll take that as a mystery, which is even better. Come on, I'll tell you the rest of the boring rules on the way." He spun around and led the way, jaunty and calm.