Walking up the temple steps that loomed over the treeline, I tilted my gaze upward. Step after step of polished marble met the heel of my shoe, their surfaces adorned with spiraling vines etched into the columns lining the staircase. Every few steps, the scent of incense and aromatic herbs wafted from the lanterns, their warm glow casting flickering shadows.

  “Okay. You can do this. Just... one... more... step,” I muttered, wiping sweat from my brow and panting toward the ground.

  “Alexander, buddy. Pal. You’ve been saying that for twenty minutes,” Caroline teased from ahead. “Maybe we should take a breather?”

  Of course she was fine. Barely a drop of sweat marred her tan skin or her sleek black hair. Her well-muscled legs flexed as she idly stretched while waiting for me, and I could only sigh.

  “Car-Car, we both know full well we can’t. We’ve gotta—” My legs buckled, sending me lurching forward. Only Caroline’s quick reflexes stopped my head from colliding with the marble.

  “We need you in one piece,” she said, steadying me. “This is why I kept telling you to run with me more.”

  “Oh, sure,” I wheezed between gasps for air. “Let me just keep up with someone a year older—whose Arte happens to be Velocity Manipulation, no less.”

  “Personal velocity,” she corrected with a grin that screamed victory. “Not universal. And it’s only thirty more steps. We’re hours early. Take a break.”

  Reluctantly, I collapsed onto the cool stone, gazing at the sky. The three moons, each with their five orbiting moonlets, illuminated the heavens in a perpetual dance. My gaze shifted from the celestial display back to Caroline. “Which one are you tied to?”

  “That’s not how it works,” she replied with a smirk. “You’ll find out after your Awakening. Speaking of which, any guesses about your Arte?”

  “Not betting on it. Too much variability. My siblings’ Artes range from Vine Manipulation to Neon Manipulation. Mom’s blood makes predictions impossible.”

  Once my chest stopped heaving, I pushed myself upright and trudged onward. Thirty steps to go. Each one loomed like a mountain.

  Why do they have to make these stairs so steep and impractical?

  As if hearing my silent lament, the steps before me softened, their height and steepness reduced to a third. The temple’s great doors creaked open, revealing an elderly man clad in black robes threaded with gold. His long beard curled at its tips, matching his immaculately groomed mustache. Smiling warmly, he raised a hand, and the step beneath me shifted, gliding upward to meet him.

  “Alexander, is it?” His voice was calm and firm, carrying an air of authority. “I am Fellkeep Giles. You may call me the Fellkeep, Fellkeep Giles, or just Giles if you prefer.”

  Caroline caught up swiftly, but Fellkeep raised a hand. “Only one at a time. The anonymity of an Arte’s nature must be preserved if the bearer wishes.”

  He turned, his robes fluttering as he gestured for me to follow.

  The altar room was a convergence of power. Its polished obsidian and runestone walls were lined with golden threads of magic, all leading to the altar at its center—a masterwork of dryadwood, alive with shimmering energy. A dryad danced upon it, her voice an ethereal melody that filled the room. As we approached, her song ceased, leaving a silence so profound it pressed against my ears.

  “Alexander,” the dryad intoned, her voice resonant and melodic. “You stand on the brink of enlightenment and oblivion. Your Arte, the unique manifestation of your soul, awaits. Are you prepared to bear its burden?”

  I hesitated, the gravity of her words weighing on me. Clutching the locket around my neck, I steadied myself with a deep breath and nodded.

  The dryad’s form shifted, becoming ephemeral. A ghostly hand touched my forehead, and a surge of energy overwhelmed me. My vision dissolved into blinding white.

  I found myself in a field where pages of paper danced like leaves in the wind. They twisted into swords, slicing effortlessly through the grass, then converged into swarms of origami insects that rushed into me, becoming part of my essence.

  When I returned to the altar room, a single illuminated page floated above me before dissolving into mist.

  “Beneath the moons’ pale silver glow,

  In whispers soft, the parchments flow.

  They twist and weave, a subtle shaper.

  I have judged you to be, lord of paper.”

  The dryad’s voice was filled with amusement as she recited her verse. “Paper Manipulation,” she said. “An Arte of versatility. Not inherently lethal, but not all need to be. Be blessed.”

  “Blessed? Caroline gets the ability to move at speeds I can’t hope to match and endless stamina. And me? I get... the ability to fold paper?” My words dripped with frustration.

  “Only if that’s all you see,” the Fellkeep replied, his tone steady, almost dismissive. “Though, knowing your mother, I’d wager you’ll—”

  His voice faded into the background as searing pain exploded in my forehead. My bones shifted with an agonizing slowness, the pressure mounting until a spiraled horn burst forth from the center of my skull. My wrists and ankles itched and burned as fur sprouted and spread, and I felt my body warping, my very essence reshaping itself.

  It wasn’t just pain; it was a force, a torrent of mana flooding through me, forcing my dormant monster blood to awaken. Every cell seemed to scream as it changed.

  I collapsed to the floor, clutching my head, the soft fur on my wrists offering a fleeting reprieve from the raw torment. My vision blurred, my breath faltered, and the world slipped into darkness.

  [ —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]

  I awoke slumped in a corner, my body aching as if it had been torn apart and stitched back together. A soft, luminescent glow emanated from Willow’s hands as she cast a spell over me, her expression calm but focused.

  “This is why your friend wasn’t allowed to stay,” Fellkeep Giles said, his voice firm but not unkind. “I suspected your awakening would be... dramatic. It’s always the same with half-bloods in Mar.”

  “My head...” I groaned, reaching up to rub my forehead. My fingers brushed the horn, soft but unbearably sensitive, and I recoiled from the touch.

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  “Quite the adornment,” the Fellkeep continued. “While you were out, we analyzed the celestial shifts that occurred during your awakening. The stars that aligned with your mana suggest affinities for Dimensional abilities—unsurprising, given your heritage—as well as crystal and nature abilities. Perhaps even linked to your Arte.”

  His words became a droning murmur, my mind too overwhelmed to follow his speculative theories. I caught fragments, but nothing stuck.

  “He’s not listening, Giles,” the dryad interrupted, her voice sharp yet composed. “And frankly, neither am I. We’re here to guide these lambs, not drown them in conjecture. One day, they’ll become wolves, but not if we lose them in their first steps.”

  Fellkeep stiffened at her rebuke, bowing deeply with his hand pressed over his chest. “Forgive me, Archdryad Willow.”

  “Forgiven for now, Giles,” Willow said with a sigh. “But for the love of the moons, stop doing this with every half-blood. We’ve got two dryad-blooded individuals today alone. Do you really want to dive into speculations about their awakenings too?”

  “As you are aware, one of the core tenets of the Celestial Chancery is to never obscure the truth,” Giles replied, his tone as measured as ever. “That being said, yes, I do. However, in light of your chastisement, I shall refrain.”

  Willow rolled her eyes, the gesture conveying her exasperation more than words ever could. Shifting her attention back to me, she softened her expression.

  “Your friend Caroline is waiting in the garden,” she said. “We’ve set up a mirage field if you’d like to test your Arte. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to assist you in practicing.”

  Eager to take Willow’s invitation—and to escape the fellkeep’s endless musings—I made my way to the garden. True to their word, Caroline was there, standing beside what looked like a large metal disc. She waved me over, her grin as wide as I’d ever seen.

  “Alex! You grew a horn!” she called out, clearly amused. “Looks like I owe your brother three waning bronze coins.”

  “You took that bet?” I raised an eyebrow. “There are fourteen of us. All but two have gotten a horn after their awakening. Also, my brother? Which one? I have nine.”

  “Thomas,” she said with a knowing smirk. “The one apprenticed to my father? The one I see nearly every day—besides you, of course? Did that horn drill into the part of your brain that remembers basic facts?”

  “Not that I know of,” I replied dryly. “But it did feel like a drill boring through my skull, so I’ll forgive myself for being a little foggy.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, shrugging. “So, what Arte did you get? Thomas and I were betting on Triplication, like your mother.”

  “Not even close,” I said, shaking my head. “I got a shaper-type ability, like my eldest sister, Marybelle. She has Glass Manipulation. I got... Paper Manipulation.”

  Caroline’s grin widened, her voice lifting with unmistakable glee. “Oh? The book boy gets an ability tied to books? That’s poetic justice.”

  “Not books—paper,” I corrected, though I could see her teasing intent. “It could work on books, I guess. But enough about that. Where’s the mirage field? Let’s find out what this Arte can actually do.”

  “Technically, we’re already in it,” Caroline said, gesturing around us. “It’s in its default state right now. The field only activates when tailored to a specific mana type, and since Dimensional mana isn’t my primary, secondary, or even tertiary affinity, that means it’s all on you.”

  “So, how do I...?” I began, unsure.

  “Just put your hand on the big metal disc,” she said flatly, smacking the surface for emphasis. “Then push mana through your body. It’s as natural as breathing. You don’t even have to think about it—your body WANTS mana to flow.”

  Placing my hand on the cool, silvery surface of the metallic disc, its size and shine dominated my vision. Looking into it, I saw my reflection first; my long braided brown hair. My yellow, near golden eyes, the only proof of me being my father’s son. My new horn, a long white spiral, with the tufts of fur around my wrists, mimicking the brown and white hues of my mother’s fur. The distraction of my reflection only took away my attention from the moment, yet I still was pondering on what to do. Caroline had said not to overthink it, but I was completely lost.

  I want this, I thought, my mind repeating the command like a mantra. Work. Flow. Dammit, flow! My frustration mounted, my face scrunching as I tried harder, the effort only fueling my growing irritation.

  Before I could spiral further, a gentle hand pulled mine away.

  “Alexander,” a calm voice interrupted, smooth and authoritative. “You’ll find Miss Caroline’s advice is best suited for those with a primarily Fire affinity. Fire wants to spread, to grow. For you, such a method is ill-suited. My apologies for not arriving sooner, young shaper. I am Twelve, of this chancery.”

  Caroline immediately stepped between us, her tone sharp with worry and defiance. “What do you want with Alex, Number-Man? He hasn’t done anything wrong. He couldn’t have broken a concordant already.”

  Twelve regarded her with a patient yet firm expression. “In my official capacity as one of the Fifteen Keepers of the Satellites, I want nothing. I am here as part of a request. Your advice, however well-intentioned, nearly caused Alexander to create a black hole within himself.” His voice was strong, commanding, yet tinged with concern.

  Caroline blinked, taken aback. “What?”

  “For those whose aspects govern the fundamental laws of creation and destruction, forcing magic to flow as you would with Fire or even Sand, can be catastrophic,” Twelve explained, his eyes locking onto mine with a piercing, wisened gaze. “The only reason you’re still standing, Alexander, is because you instinctively followed her original advice—not to think about it.”

  With his hand still lightly holding my wrist, Twelve guided my hand back toward the disc, positioning it over the top right corner. “Now, listen carefully,” he said, his tone gentler but no less commanding. “First, imagine yourself as the center of everything. A small star, a planet; whatever image resonates with you. You are the anchor, drawing your other two mana types into orbit. Pull them toward you. Hold that image in your mind, and let it guide you.”

  I closed my eyes and let the world around me fade. In the stillness, I envisioned myself as a planet, orbiting a small white star. Its light was soft, not blinding but warm, illuminating everything with a gentle radiance. The star pulsed with steady energy, an eternal heartbeat that resonated within me.

  From the vastness of the void, I drew forth shimmering gemstone meteorites. They hurtled toward me, their brilliant trails of light painting the cosmos. Each impact carved into my surface, shaping me. Craters blossomed into valleys; valleys stretched into jagged mountain ranges. A larger sapphire comet struck with force, and from its impact sprang vast oceans, their deep blues spreading across my surface. Rivers wove intricate patterns, snaking their way to feed serene lakes.

  Soon, I called forth a single tree, its roots sinking deep into the soil of my imagination. Its branches stretched skyward, birthing an entire forest in its wake. From that forest emerged a thriving ecosystem—lush greenery teeming with life. Creatures, big and small, prowled through the underbrush, each part of a delicate balance. Predators stalked their prey, the cycle of life and death playing out endlessly.

  The planet became a living, breathing entity, vibrant and rich with possibilities. Minerals glinted beneath the surface, their latent power waiting to be unearthed. Flora blossomed in countless hues, each plant a testament to the resilience of life. Fauna thrived, their movements a symphony of survival and abundance.

  I was no longer just a planet; I was a world. A world of endless cycles—creation and destruction, life and decay, growth and renewal. A world bursting with abundance, its potential infinite and unyielding.

  Opening my eyes, I saw it—a shimmering field of energy that didn’t just surround me but permeated everything. It was in the air, in the ground, in every leaf and petal, in everyone. It pulsed with each breath I took, synchronized with the rhythm of my own life force. The disc before me was no longer a mere object; I understood now. It was a conduit, a wellspring of power capable of bending the boundaries of reality and ushering one into a realm of unreality.

  Drawing upon the energy from my inner world, I sent it coursing into the disc. It responded instantly, humming to life, its surface rippling with a cascade of rainbow hues. The vibrations spread outward, flowing across the garden like a living tide. The tranquil serenity of the space around me began to shift, blossoming into something new, something familiar.

  And then I saw it—the very planet I had created within myself. My inner world had come to life.