---
The sun had barely risen above the horizon, casting a soft golden hue across Scarlet Wind Valley. Mist hung like a sleeping spirit, coiling through trees and across mossy stones. Dew clung to every leaf and blade of grass, refracting light like tiny stars on earth. The valley was still—but not silent.
Ash sat alone beneath an ancient bloodwood tree, the red leaves whispering softly overhead as if exchanging secrets with the wind. His legs were folded in the lotus position, and his breath moved slowly, evenly. Every now and then, his fingers would twitch subtly as he followed the breathing rhythm Elder Varn had taught.
He wasn't meditating to cultivate—not yet. He was listening.
The valley's quietness had changed in recent days. Beneath the ordinary sounds of chirping birds and rustling branches, there was something else. A subtle vibration. A buried pulse. Ash didn't know what it meant, only that it was growing stronger.
The night before, his dreams had shifted again—once more filled with images of black water, glowing chains, and faint whispers from the deep. No faces, no clear memories. Just a presence. Watching. Waiting.
He opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the faint morning light. A warm breeze brushed across his skin, but it didn't ease the chill gathering at the base of his spine.
"You're getting better," came a familiar voice behind him.
Ash turned. Talen was approaching, holding two steaming rice buns wrapped in lotus leaves. He tossed one to Ash, who caught it easily.
"Thanks."
Talen sat beside him and took a bite. "I saw you sitting here like a stone. You were practically glowing."
Ash gave a slight chuckle, but his eyes drifted toward the valley. "Do you ever feel like… this place remembers things?"
Talen paused mid-bite. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," Ash admitted. "Sometimes when I'm quiet like this, I feel something below. Like there's more to this valley than we're told."
Talen swallowed, glanced around, and leaned closer. "You mean the Circle?"
Ash looked up sharply. "You've heard of it too?"
"Everyone's heard of it," Talen muttered. "They just pretend not to. It's taboo, remember? Outer sect disciples aren't even allowed near that part of the valley."
"I walked past it two nights ago," Ash confessed. "Didn't go close. Just… felt drawn to it."
Talen's face darkened. "That's what scares me."
Ash frowned. "What do you mean?"
"People who get curious about the Circle tend to have weird things happen to them. Nightmares. Strange injuries. Sudden disappearances. Elder Haru says it's all just superstition, but…" He lowered his voice. "My cousin was a disciple here. He went missing two years ago. The last place he was seen? Near the Circle of Sorrow."
Ash's breath hitched. "Is that what it's called?"
Talen nodded grimly. "Seven monoliths arranged in a perfect circle. Each etched with ancient runes that no one can decipher anymore. Some say it's a sealing formation. Others think it's a battlefield memorial. But I've heard rumors—"
"About what's sealed underneath," Ash finished for him.
Talen gave him a cautious look. "You really have been listening."
Ash didn't respond immediately. His thoughts drifted back to the orphanage, to the night everything had burned and the strange sense of familiarity he'd felt when stepping into the valley for the first time. His instincts were telling him this wasn't just coincidence.
"Don't get involved," Talen said after a moment. "We're outer sect disciples. We train, we cultivate, and we earn our place. That's it."
Ash nodded, but something deep inside him disagreed.
---
Later that day, after lessons and qi training, Ash wandered near the valley's edge again. He hadn't planned to. His feet moved on their own, carrying him past wild herbs, forgotten stone lanterns, and old training posts covered in moss. He found himself standing once more before the Circle of Sorrow.
The monoliths stood tall—weathered, cracked, but still brimming with silent authority. Their runes shimmered faintly even in daylight, whispering secrets no one could understand.
Ash hesitated. He wasn't sure why he had come, only that something was calling to him. He took a step closer.
"What are you doing here?" came a sharp voice from behind.
Ash turned to find Zanab standing a few paces away, her arms crossed, dark hair tied back tightly.
"You again," Ash muttered.
Zanab approached slowly, eyes narrowed. "You're either brave or foolish."
"Maybe both," Ash said quietly.
She studied the monoliths with a frown. "Most disciples avoid this place. Even some elders pretend it doesn't exist."
"Why?"
"Because they're afraid of what lies beneath," she replied. "There's a story—older than the sect itself. About a man who broke the natural laws. He wasn't a demon or devil, just… someone who went too far."
Ash tilted his head. "Too far?"
"He walked the path alone. Refused the heavens. Refused the Dao. Some say he crafted his own path, outside all known laws. He didn't conquer for power. He conquered to break free."
Ash's eyes narrowed. "And they sealed him?"
Zanab nodded. "They couldn't kill him. So they buried him under a mountain of chains and curses. They say he sleeps… dreaming of a world without rules."
Ash looked back at the monoliths. "What if he wakes?"
Zanab glanced at him. "Then heaven will burn. Again."
For a while, they stood in silence. The wind picked up, rustling leaves and carrying faint echoes from the valley below.
Then Ash turned to her. "Why tell me this?"
She hesitated, then said, "Because you're the only one who's not running away."
---
That night, Ash dreamed.
He was falling—through layers of fog, shadow, and light. Down, down, down into an abyss that had no bottom.
He landed on stone. Wet. Cold.
Chains stretched out across a vast cavern, some broken, others still glowing with runes. In the center was a figure—barely visible, shrouded in darkness.
But Ash could feel his eyes.
Not with sight, but with presence.
The figure didn't speak. Yet Ash heard a voice echo inside his mind.
You are not ready. But you are chosen.
Ash reached forward, unsure why. The figure lifted its head.
For a brief moment, Ash saw his own face reflected in the stranger's—older, wiser… and terrifyingly empty.
Then everything shattered.
---
Ash awoke, drenched in sweat. His body trembled, not from fear, but from resonance—like something deep inside had stirred.
He rose from bed, walked to the window, and looked out toward the valley.
The monoliths were hidden in darkness, but he could feel them.
And something beneath them… waiting.
Watching.
---