（By the way, to everyone reading this—when do you usually have time to read? Let me know your region and time of day in the comments, and I'll try to post updates to match your schedule!）
The path through the hollow crunched beneath Kael's boots as he wandered aimlessly, his mind drifting like the fallen leaves at his feet. He had no particular task today—no lessons with Elric, no errands to run.
Yet for reasons he couldn't explain, his feet carried him toward the thunderous base of Scarletfall Cascade—where Bren trained beneath the waterfall's punishing weight.
Kael smirked to himself. It wasn't that he wanted to train. He just enjoyed watching Bren contort in pain under the torrent, groaning as if the water itself were divine punishment.
"Foolish technique," Kael muttered aloud. "One layer in, and he already looks like he's molting."
Still, he admired his friend's tenacity.
They had once spoken of asking Elric to allow a change—maybe something less brutal. But Kael knew the answer. Bren would never abandon something once he'd committed. His stubbornness was carved into stone.
Autumn clung to the forest like a dying breath. The trees had almost shed their last leaves, and Kael kicked at a tangle of yellow-brown debris with idle frustration. Leaves skittered away with each step, crackling beneath his feet.
Up the mountain trail to his right, the sound of weapons clashing rang out—a chorus of metal and barked commands echoed down from Ironroot Plateau, where the Blackforge Division trained in martial forms.
Kael paused, scowling.
He longed to be among them. To learn the sword, the spear, to fight with purpose. But ever since Elric had accepted him as an apprentice, that path had been barred.
"No distractions," Elric had said. "Not for you."
So while others grew sharper with weapons and discipline, Kael learned herbs, mixed salves, and repeated his breathing patterns alone.
He felt stagnant.
Even Bren's body had changed. His muscles thickened, his movements denser. Kael, meanwhile, had not gained a single scar of progress—only internal whispers, and questions with no answers.
"If not for Elric," he whispered, "I wouldn't even be here."
He sighed and kept walking. The trail narrowed. Moss crept across its edges. The forest thickened.
Then—pain.
A sharp, searing jolt stabbed through Kael's foot.
He collapsed, clutching his toe.
"Ahh—damn it!"
He rolled to the side, breath hissing through clenched teeth. It felt like he'd kicked a chunk of iron hidden beneath the leaves.
After several long breaths, the pain dulled. Kael sat up slowly and scanned the ground.
There, half-buried in leaf litter, something glinted.
Curious despite the ache, Kael brushed away the debris. What he uncovered was not a stone, but a small object—a narrow-necked vessel no larger than his fist, shaped like a bottle but far heavier than it looked.
Metal, not ceramic. Cool and dense to the touch.
He wiped the grime away.
Etched into the surface were delicate, leaf-like patterns, inked in pale jade tones and swirling toward a tightly sealed cap. No title. No inscription. No seams.
Kael tilted the bottle.
No sound. No movement.
He twisted the cap.
It didn't budge.
Kael brought it to his ear. Nothing. Shook it. Still nothing.
Whatever it was, it wasn't empty—but it certainly wasn't normal either.
His toe pulsed again—angry and hot—reminding him of the cost of this discovery.
Wincing, Kael tucked the strange vessel inside his tunic, hiding it from view. He'd figure out what it was later.
For now, he had to limp back to his quarters before someone saw him hobbling and asked questions he couldn't answer.
He turned and began the slow retreat down the path, one hand gripping his side, the other guarding the mysterious weight pressed against his chest.
He didn't know it yet—
—but this bottle, the one that had quite literally stopped him in his tracks…
was no mere trinket.
It was the beginning of something much, much larger.