"'Since your father has already told you about your bloodline, I'll tell you all you need to know about it,' Zorvath said, his eyes gleaming with a knowing intensity. And with that, he reached out and grasped Seven's hand, pulling him into a vibrant and ethereal dream realm. The air was filled with a soft, luminescent glow, and Seven's heart raced as he realized they had entered a world beyond the physical.
'Here, you will learn the truth about your heritage,' Zorvath declared, his voice echoing. 'And you will discover the secrets that have been hidden from you for so long...
''What secrets, Grandfather?' Seven asked, his curiosity piqued as they walked through the dream realm, the mist swirling around their feet like a river of moonlight.
And with that, they walked deeper into the dream realm, their footsteps silent on the shimmering ground, their conversation trailing off into a secrecy that only they would ever know.
Meanwhile, at the Nightmare Prince's castle, Kael's eyes gleamed with triumph as he studied the mist remnant. After weeks of research, he had finally traced the location of the elusive Mist Demon. "Vorx!" he called out to his butler. "I have found it. The Mist Demon is hiding in the Thousand Whispers Forest, where reality and illusion blur." Vorx approached cautiously, sensing the Nightmare Prince's excitement. "Shall I prepare shadow, your highness?" Kael's smile grew wider. "Yes, let us go hunting."
Kael strode out into the castle courtyard, the night air crisp and cool around him. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he Shadow, its dark fur glistening in the moonlight. The beast's eyes gleamed with a fierce inner light, its wings spread wide as it let out a mighty roar. Kael's face split into a wide grin, relief and joy writ large on his features. "Ah, Shadow, you've recovered just in time," he exclaimed, patting the beast's neck. "I have a hunt to undertake, and I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else." With a fluid motion, he swung onto the Hell Cat's back, feeling its powerful muscles tense beneath him. "Let's go catch us a Mist Demon," he whispered, his voice full of anticipation. And with a burst of darkness and flame, they vanished into the night, bound for the Thousand Whispers Forest.
Meanwhile in the dream realm, Seven's mind was still reeling from the revelations when Zorvath's gaze locked onto his. "The time has come, Seven," he said, his voice low and mysterious. "But first, a gift." Zorvath's hand reached out, and he pressed something into Seven's forehead. Then, with a wave of his hand, the dream realm around Seven began to swirl and churn, like a maelstrom pulling him in. Seven felt himself being drawn through the vortex, his senses blurring as he was propelled back to the world of the living. He was more awestruck by the dream-treading technique that had brought him here than he had been by the Shadowstriding technique, which had seemed impossible just moments before. When his vision cleared, he found himself standing in front of the training camp's imposing gates.
Seven pushed open the heavy gate, his heart still racing from the dream-treading technique that had brought him here. He had expected to be the first to arrive, but as he entered the familiar training camp courtyard, he saw Lyra standing motionless, a small pouch slung over her shoulder, her eyes fixed intently on Instructor Gorvoth. The instructor sat cross-legged on the ground, his eyes closed in deep meditation, his breathing slow and deliberate. The courtyard was otherwise empty, the only sound the distant chirping of birds and the soft rustle of the wind. Seven's arrival went unnoticed by the absorbed duo, and he watched Lyra for a moment, feeling a mix of excitement and relief at seeing a friendly face.
Lyra's eyes snapped towards him, and a bright smile lit up her face. She rushed towards him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. "Seven! You're here!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with joy. Seven's face flushed with a warm blush as he returned the hug, feeling a little self-conscious but happy to see his friend again.
But their reunion was short-lived, as Lyra's exuberant greeting echoed through the courtyard and disturbed Instructor Gorvoth's meditation. The instructor's eyes opened, and he gave a soft cough, a subtle reminder to the pair to maintain decorum. Lyra and Seven quickly parted, their faces still flushed with excitement, and turned to face their instructor.
Instructor Gorvoth's gaze shifted to Seven, his eyes lingering on the Moonwhisper garment that adorned his body, and then dropping to the Night Shield pendant around his neck. A hint of a nod seemed to acknowledge Seven's preparation. "I can see you're fully equipped for the journey," he said, his voice measured. "Now, let us wait for the others to arrive. Once they are here, we will proceed with the assessment to determine your eligibility to embark on this path." His eyes seemed to gleam with a deep understanding of the challenges that lay ahead, his expression a testament to his intimate familiarity with the trials that awaited them.
Gorvoth's eyes closed, and he began to settle back into meditation, his breathing slowing as he sought to reconnect with the calm energy of the world. But before he could fully immerse himself, the sound of thundering hooves echoed through the courtyard, followed by the arrival of a sleek black dragon, its young rider held securely in place by a seasoned handler. Next, a shimmering portal materialized, depositing a pair of younglings, who looked around with wide eyes, accompanied by their respective guardians. Others arrived by different means, some by winged creatures, others by mysterious energies. Then, a chariot manned by a Nether-flamed Dark Pegasus burst into the courtyard, Xaren sitting proudly beside his butler, who held the reins with a firm hand. The guardians swiftly disembarked, handing their young charges over to Gorvoth's care, before turning to depart, leaving the younglings to their fate. The courtyard fell silent, the only sound the soft rustling of the wind, as the younglings turned towards Gorvoth with anticipation, their faces filled with excitement and a hint of nervousness.
Gorvoth's eyes opened, and a warm smile spread across his face as he gazed upon the gathered younglings. "Welcome, all of you," he said, his voice filled with kindness and wisdom. "I sense that you are all ready to embark on this journey, unlock your true potential. Tonight, we shall venture into the Night Valley, a realm of mystery and wonder."
Xaren's gaze remained fixed on Seven, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity, his expression a clear challenge. Seven, seemingly oblivious to the tension, stood tall, his eyes fixed on Gorvoth, his face set with determination. The air was electric with anticipation, the night air thick with the promise of adventure and discovery.
Gorvoth held up the Reflection of Souls, its surface etched with ancient runes that glowed with a soft, ethereal light. "Let us see if you possess the necessary tempering to undertake this path," he said, his voice low and mystical.
One by one, the younglings stepped forward, their eyes fixed on the Reflection of Souls. A few, like Lyra, shone bright green, indicating exceptional potential. A small number radiated a faint blue, a sign that they didn't meet the requirements to venture into the Night Valley. Most, however, were bathed in a warm yellow light, a solid foundation for their journey. Xaren's gaze swept over the younglings with disdain, his eyes lingering on each one as if searching for flaws. His expression seemed to say, "You're all so far beneath me."
As the last of the 87 younglings stepped away from the Reflection of Souls, the results were clear: 12 had shown exceptional potential with green light, 15 had fallen short with blue light, and the remaining 60 had demonstrated a solid foundation with yellow light. Only two remained: Seven and Xaren. Xaren sneered, striding forward to face the Reflection of Souls. "I'll show you all what true power looks like," he sneered, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "And crush your spirit, Seven." He added in his mind. With that, he gazed into the Reflection of Souls, his eyes flashing with an intense light.
The Reflection of Souls glowed purple, a color just shy of the coveted black, indicating Xaren's extraordinary talent. He sneered at the younglings, his eyes gleaming with superiority. "You're all so far beneath me," he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. The younglings gazed at him in awe, their faces pale with intimidation. None dared to speak, their eyes fixed on the ground, fearful of provoking Xaren's wrath. His talent was too great, and they knew better than to cross him. With a final scornful glance, Xaren turned away, leaving the younglings to tremble in his wake.
Seven stepped forward, his confidence evident in his stride. He gazed into the Reflection of Souls, his eyes locked on the glowing surface. Xaren snorted in derision, his voice dripping with mockery. "Oh, this should be amusing. The little upstart thinks he can rival me?" He sneered at Seven, his eyes gleaming with disdain. "Let's see you try, Seven. Let's see you try." The younglings watched with bated breath, their eyes fixed on Seven, wondering if he would falter or surprise them all.
The Reflection of Souls glowed with an intense light, and then, in a shocking moment, it settled into a deep, rich black. The color was so dark it seemed to absorb the light around it, leaving only an void-like emptiness. The younglings gasped in unison, their eyes wide with disbelief. Gorvoth's eyes widened, his mouth agape. "Impossible!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the chamber. Xaren's sneer faltered, his eyes fixed on the black glow with a mix of shock and disbelief. "Impossible!" the younglings chorused, their voices filled with awe and wonder. Seven's confident expression never wavered, as he had expected this outcome all along.