The Bloodline Hall — known formally as the Hall of Ancestral Veins — lay at the heart of the Ye Clan's secret realm, its foundation set upon ancient dragonstone said to hum with the echoes of the clan's first oath. The air near it was always cool and faintly metallic, as though the stone itself remembered winter's breath. Massive pillars carved with flowing clouds rose to a vaulted ceiling where a mural of five radiant eyes gazed down: Heaven's Sight, Veil of Fate, Soul Gaze, Memory Engraving, and Dominion's Gaze.
The sacred ceremony, held once every three years for Ye children, was the moment the clan's ancient gift renewed itself. Outside the bronze doors, children fidgeted in their silks.
"I will awaken Heaven's Sight today," a boy boasted.
"Then you'll only see half the truth," a girl sniffed. "I want Veil of Fate. That way I'll know what you'll say before you say it."
Parents whispered with pride and rivalry. "See Ye Wen? Elder Qiyang's son. If he awakens Soul Gaze, the branches will bow this year."
"Discipline outlasts pride," her companion snorted. "Let us see whose name the scrolls record."
The gates creaked open, and silence fell. Silver glow replaced the sun as the children were led inside.
A deep chime rang in the bones. From the dais, the Moon of Origin spirit pearl pulsed once. The presiding officiant, Core Elder Ye Shengyuan, stepped forward.
"Children of the Ye blood," his voice carried, "today you stand where generations have stood. The gifts you awaken are not tools — they are the eyes of our forebears, reborn in you." He raised his hand to the mural. "There are five great gazes: Heaven's Sight, Veil of Fate, Soul Gaze, Memory Engraving, and Dominion's Gaze."
Shengyuan's voice deepened. "Most will awaken only a fragment — sparks such as Clear Lens, Glimmer, Thread Sense, or Soul Echo. Do not despise these beginnings. Even a seed can grow into a towering tree.
Many of our honored ancestors began no differently."
He paused. "But know this: Heaven's Dominion has not been seen since our founding years. It is glory and burden alike. Should it return… may its bearer have both wisdom and strength."
Murmurs swept the hall. Parents whispered of Ye Wen and Tianlong's boy, of hopes and expectations. The Moon of Origin pulsed again, and golden lines spread across the floor.
One by one they were called forward.
A little girl stepped into the circle. As her pupils brightened to a pale gold, the dust motes dancing in the sunbeams suddenly resolved into perfect, crystalline specks. The distant carvings on the opposite wall, once a vague blur, appeared so sharp and distinct she could count the tiny imperfections in the stone. For a heartbeat, the air around her stilled, now a flawless pane of glass she could see right through. 'Clear Lens,' Shengyuan announced."
A boy with a stubborn jaw strode in. As his eyes flickered with a dull golden glow, the air around Shengyuan seemed to waver, a faint silver outline tracing his form. Sparks of silver danced and arced between the boy and the man, as if he were catching glimpses of a hidden electric current. 'Glimmer,' Shengyuan declared."
"Another child followed. The Array flared, his eyes shifting—one with the flawless, pale gold clarity of the Clear Lens, the other with dull golden sparks of Glimmer. His right eye sharpened the entire hall into a stunning tableau of perfect detail, while his left eye traced faint, shimmering silver threads between the nervous children and the unblinking Array, a double vision of both truth and hidden meaning. 'Clear Lens and Glimmer,' Shengyuan intoned, voice edged with approval. Murmurs of awe swept the hall."
Others followed: a quiet girl with Soul Echo, a lively boy with Thread Sense. Then, the aides called the next name: Ye Chenrui.
"He strode forward with restless energy. The Array flared, and his pupils ignited with a deep crimson glow, like coals stirred to sudden life. It wasn't just a change in his eyes; a sudden, crushing weight seemed to settle on the air itself. The babble of the hall died an instant death as every whisper caught in a throat, every murmur frozen on a tongue. The silence wasn't empty; it was a heavy, suffocating blanket of stillness. The officiant's eyes widened, a flicker of genuine awe breaking through his practiced calm. 'Soul Gaze,' he breathed, his voice barely audible in the profound quiet."
"Gasps broke the silence as if a great, held breath had been released. Whispers rose in waves, but they were different now—less casual, more reverent.
'That's impossible... a silence that deep...'
'Not even the elders can do that without focusing!'
'He's just a child... he silenced the whole hall!'
Chenrui's grin broke wide, a mischievous spark in his crimson-lit eyes. He hadn't just gotten a power; he had just proven to everyone in the hall that he was different, and his pride blazed as brightly as the coals in his pupils."
"Next came Ye Qingxian. Her steps were graceful, composed beyond her years. The Awakening Array shimmered to life, its golden lattice refracting into argent brilliance. As her pupils deepened to a clear silver glow, countless luminous threads, fine as spider-silk, spilled from her eyes. They didn't just hang in the air; they drifted through it, connecting with people and objects, creating a shimmering, interconnected web across the hall. The air itself seemed to grow heavy with their presence, and gasps spread as everyone felt as if they were caught in an unseen tapestry. The threads touched a boy with a stubborn jaw, then a quiet girl, a fleeting connection before weaving onward.
The officiant's voice rang, steady yet reverent: 'Veil of Fate.'"
Chenrui's crimson-lit eyes darted toward his cousin. "Hah! I told you I'd get something great. Soul Gaze!"
Qingxian lowered her gaze, her silver eyes still shimmering faintly. After a pause, she said softly, "It's not about scaring people, Chenrui… it's about what you see." Before he could argue, attendants hushed the row.
A little behind them, Liangfeng stood stiffly. His hands clenched, and his throat felt tight. Soul Gaze… Veil of Fate… what will they say when it's my turn? For the first time, the weight of expectation pressed hard on his small shoulders.
In the quiet privacy of a secluded chamber, Supreme Elder Qianlan watched the entire ceremony through a spirit mirror, the images a silent tapestry of light and shadow. Beside her, Ye Xuan watched with rapt attention.
"See them well, Xuan'er," she murmured. "Chenrui with Soul Gaze, Qingxian with Fate's Veil. In the years ahead, their names will be spoken loudly, their paths illuminated by expectation. They are your kin, not your enemies. Respect them. Learn from them. Protect them if you must."
Her veiled eyes lowered, voice softening, yet the words carried iron beneath the silk. "But remember this — the world will always see them. The hall bows to them now.
The branches whisper their names already. The weight of pride and envy will cling to them like shadows."
Her hand brushed lightly across his shoulder. "You, they cannot yet see. That is your strength. A flame that blazes too brightly too soon invites the storm. A lantern hidden within the mist may guide further than a torch that burns out."
Ye Xuan's small fists curled tighter at his sides. He could not look away from the mirror, from the crimson gaze that had silenced the hall, or the silver threads that had wrapped it. Yet his reflection in the water basin below showed something else: his own faintly glimmering eyes, holding colors that should not yet exist.
Qianlan's voice lowered, almost to a whisper. "The prismatic light you carry is more than Dominion, more than Soul, more than Fate. It will draw the eyes of the heavens themselves. That is why you must remain unseen — until the world can no longer deny you."
Ye Xuan drew a breath, steadying himself. "I… understand, Master."
Qianlan turned, the veil shifting as if stirred by unseen wind. Her presence pressed on him like the weight of stars. "Do not rush to prove yourself, Xuan'er. The frost waits. The threads endure. When your time comes, the world will bend whether it wills it or not. Until then — endure."