Aaron's consciousness floated in an infinite void, weightless and detached. He remembered the explosion—brilliant and blinding, the deafening roar swallowing him whole. Yet, here he was, suspended between existence and oblivion.
A voice broke the silence, ancient and resonant.
"You should have been consumed."
The words hung in the air, sharp and absolute. Aaron, or what remained of him, tried to speak, but his thoughts were like ripples on a still lake, incoherent and faint.
The voice came again, laced with something between curiosity and authority. "And yet... you persist. How?"
Aaron managed a thought. "Where am I?"
The voice ignored the question. "A fragment of the cosmos rests within you, human. A dying star's flame, seeking a new vessel. You are unworthy."
Before Aaron could process the words, heat surged through him. It was unlike anything he'd known—searing and unrelenting, but not chaotic. It felt purposeful, as if testing him.
The pain ebbed, replaced by an overwhelming sense of presence. "Remember this," the voice whispered, now softer, almost regretful. "I am Primordial Ember. You are my last hope."
And then, everything shattered.
Holy Spirit Village
The sun rose over Holy Spirit Village, its light spilling across neat rows of thatched-roof houses and sprawling farmland. The village was small, with no more than fifty families, but its inhabitants bustled with the energy of a much larger community. Farmers guided their oxen to plow the fields, children chased each other through the narrow dirt streets, and traders peddled fresh vegetables and woven baskets in the central square.
Li Tian sat on the steps of his modest home, a wooden hut perched on the edge of the village. Beyond the house lay the forest, its towering trees casting long shadows over the narrow paths. His hands rested on his knees, his dark eyes gazing at the villagers going about their day.
A strange mix of feelings churned in his chest. This wasn't Earth. The technology and rush of modern life were gone, replaced by something simpler and quieter. Yet, there was an odd peace in it—a rhythm that seemed to resonate with the boy's new body.
He stretched out his hand, clenching and unclenching his small fingers. His memories of Aaron's life on Earth felt distant, like a dream fading upon waking. Here, he was Li Tian, a child whose memories were vague and fragmented. He had been an orphan, raised by the kindness of the village chief and the occasional charity of his neighbors.
Despite his uncertain place in this new world, Li Tian found himself drawn to its routines. The laughter of children, the faint hum of villagers singing as they worked, even the sharp calls of the hawkers in the square—it was all vibrant and alive.
But there was something else, too. A quiet warmth in his chest that had been growing stronger over the past weeks. It wasn't discomforting, but it felt... alive.
"Tian!"
The sharp voice broke him from his thoughts.
He turned to see Mei running toward him, her brown braid bouncing against her shoulder. She wore a simple tunic, its edges frayed from use, and her sun-kissed skin glowed in the morning light. She was grinning, but there was a spark of mischief in her eyes.
"You promised to help with the well today!" she scolded, planting her hands on her hips.
"I didn't promise anything," Li Tian replied, standing slowly and brushing off his pants.
Mei leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. "You did! Yesterday, when I caught you sneaking those berries from Elder Mu's garden!"
Li Tian chuckled. "That wasn't sneaking. I was... borrowing."
"Uh-huh. Borrowing without asking is still stealing," Mei shot back, grabbing his wrist. "Now, come on! If you don't help me, you're paying me back with those berries!"
Before he could argue, she dragged him down the dusty path toward the village well. Her grip was firm despite her small hands, and Li Tian found himself smiling despite his reluctance.
The village well was a gathering place for chatter and camaraderie. As Mei and Li Tian arrived, several women were already there, hauling buckets of water and chatting about the upcoming Spirit Awakening Ceremony.
"I hear Elder Cai is coming from Spirit Hall this year," one woman said, her voice tinged with excitement.
"Really? The last time he came, didn't one of the children awaken a beast spirit?" another asked.
"Yes, a hawk! Imagine—being able to fly above the fields..."
Mei leaned close to Li Tian as she pulled the bucket up from the well. "You think we'll get something cool, too?"
"Like a hawk?" Li Tian asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe. Or something better! Like... a dragon!" Her voice was breathless with excitement.
Li Tian chuckled. "A dragon? You think that's likely?"
"Why not?" Mei puffed out her chest. "Someone in this village is bound to awaken something amazing one day. Why not us?"
Her optimism was infectious. Li Tian couldn't help but admire her determination, even if her dreams were a bit far-fetched.
After finishing their work at the well, the pair wandered into the square, where a small group of children had gathered around an elderly man. Elder Mu, his wrinkled face shaded by a wide-brimmed straw hat, sat on a low stool, gesturing animatedly with his cane.
"Do you know why we celebrate the Awakening Ceremony?" he asked, his gravelly voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.
One boy raised his hand. "So we can become Spirit Masters?"
Elder Mu nodded, his eyes twinkling. "That's part of it. But it's also a reminder that we are connected to the world around us. Every spirit, no matter how small or simple, carries a purpose. Even the humblest tool can bring great change if wielded by the right hands."
The children leaned in closer, their eyes wide with wonder.
Elder Mu chuckled, his expression growing more serious. "But beware—power is not without cost. There are those with twin spirits, who carry immense potential. Yet, it is said that one in a thousand survives their awakening. Such power can destroy, as easily as it can create."
Li Tian felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked away, his gaze drifting to the forest at the village's edge.
Mei nudged him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just thinking."
Her brow furrowed, but she didn't press further.
As the day wound down, the village settled into a comfortable calm. Smoke rose from chimneys as families prepared dinner, and the faint sounds of laughter carried through the air.
Li Tian sat outside his hut, gazing at the stars. Mei's voice echoed in his mind: "Someone in this village is bound to awaken something amazing one day."
He clenched his fists, feeling the warmth in his chest stir again. It wasn't just warmth anymore—it was a presence, something alive and waiting.
"Who am I in this world?" he whispered to himself.
The wind rustled the leaves in response, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers.
The answer, he realized, wasn't going to come from sitting still. Whatever was inside him, whatever destiny this world had in store, he would face it head-on.
For better or worse.