Maya stirred faintly, the warmth of her plush bed coaxing her to remain cocooned in the soft embrace of her blankets. A persistent voice, however, had other ideas.
"Awake, child. The sun won't wait for you to rise!"
"Mmngh… No." Maya groaned, dragging her pillow over her head in protest. "The world won't end if a noblewoman gets a few more winks, Ancestor."
The voice huffed audibly in her mind, muttering something about lazy descendants and the sorry state of discipline in modern times.
"In my day, children wouldn't dare such insolence. A tanned hide was the least of their worries."
Maya snickered faintly, burying herself deeper into the covers. "Yes, yes, you've mentioned the glorious discipline of your era. Just five more minutes, Ancestor."
The voice sighed theatrically, then grew quiet. The respite lasted only a few precious moments before it erupted in a bellow loud enough to rattle her nerves.
"UP! Or must I summon lightning to strike your bed?"
Maya yelped, her heart leaping into her throat as she flailed upright. The black feline curled at her feet yowled as it tumbled off the bed, landing awkwardly on the carpet. It glared at her balefully before streaking toward the door.
"Was that truly necessary?" Maya hissed, rubbing her eyes.
The voice chuckled merrily. "You're awake now, aren't you?"
Maya muttered darkly, shuffling toward her bathroom. Her hand lingered on the doorframe as she whispered, her cheeks flushing, "Ahem… if you would, Ancestor, kindly keep your, uh, 'eyes' closed."
The voice sniffed, deeply offended. "Do you take me for some manner of voyeur, child? Have no fear—I have no interest in your mortal modesty."
Rolling her eyes, Maya disappeared into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon drowned out their exchange.
When she emerged, cleaned and dressed, the manor's stillness enveloped her. Her footsteps echoed softly as she descended the grand staircase, the dawn's faint, golden haze casting long shadows across the polished floors. Outside, the grounds lay shrouded in morning quiet, but inside, the turmoil in her chest refused to settle.
Breakfast was a simple affair—tea, fresh bread, and fruit. The rhythmic clink of her teacup against the saucer provided a small sense of calm, but her thoughts churned as they returned to the events of the past two days.
The voice had first fully awakened on a night she wouldn't soon forget. She had been lying in bed, reading by lamplight, when it roared into her mind with such force that she dropped her book.
"At last! You can hear me, child."
She froze, her breath hitching as her eyes darted around the room. Her voice trembled. "Who… who's there?" She clutched her blanket, her pulse hammering in her ears.
"Calm yourself," the voice said, its impatience softened by a note of reassurance. "I mean you no harm. I am but a fragment of the will of your ancestor, entrusted with a great legacy."
It had taken hours before her fear gave way to tentative curiosity. The voice explained itself with a strange mix of pride and regret, speaking of an ancient practice called "soul cultivation and "wielding the wings of power."
"I am a practitioner," it said. "A force tied to the very fabric of existence itself."
Maya's skepticism had been fierce. "Magic isn't real. This… this doesn't make sense."
The voice grew angry. "Magic, as you call it, is as real as the air you breathe. Only the blind would deny the currents that flow beneath the surface of this world. But my power… it is gone. Scattered. I came to pass it on to you, but the journey was fraught with peril. Much was lost."
"And now?" she whispered hesitantly.
"Now, we must begin anew," the voice replied gravely. "If you are willing, I will guide you. The path will be arduous, but the rewards…" It softened. "The rewards will be beyond what you can imagine."
Now, seated in the manor's meditation chamber, Maya lit an incense stick, watching the fragrant smoke curl lazily toward the ceiling. She settled onto the plush cushion at the center of the room, her legs crossed beneath her. The ancestor's voice returned, softer this time but no less commanding.
"Recall what I have taught you, child. Begin with the breathing technique."
Maya inhaled deeply, her mind replaying his teachings.
"The wings of power are not for everyone," he had said. "Most humans are Mundanes, their souls too weak to wield them. But some are born with stronger souls, capable of cultivation. These souls begin at Tier 1 and may ascend through Tier 5. Each tier has divisions—copper, bronze, silver, gold, and platinum—marking progress within that level. As one advances, their ability to wield the wings grows more powerful, reflecting the strength of their soul."
"What happens if someone fails in their cultivation?" Maya had asked, her tone hesitant.
The voice had grown heavy with warning, "The trials are not for the faint of heart. Many falter, their souls shattering under the strain. This is why willpower is paramount. A strong will can hold the soul together, even when the body falters."
"What about the wings themselves?" Maya had asked.
"Wings correspond directly to the practitioner's tier," the voice explained. "A Tier 1 soul can only wield Tier 1 wings. They are limited by the strength of the soul itself. Only in rare circumstances can this rule be broken."
"Rare circumstances?"
"Yes. Through inheritance," the voice said, his tone turning contemplative. "If a higher-tiered practitioner willingly passes on their wings to a weaker soul, the wings may bond. However, their power will remain locked. The inheritor must cultivate their soul step by step to unlock the wings' full potential. This was my plan for you."
Maya blinked in surprise. "You intended to pass your wings to me?"
The ancestor's voice was fraught with bitterness. "I did. At my peak, I wielded several Tier 5 wings. Had they reached you intact, they would have bonded with your Tier 1 soul. But you would have needed to grow through every stage of cultivation to unlock their true power. Alas, much was lost, and the wings are no longer mine."
Maya's eyes opened briefly, her voice breaking the stillness of the chamber. "Ancestor, if the wings are so powerful, why haven't others used them to help humanity?"
The voice hesitated before replying, its tone contemplative. "Once, there were many practitioners—guardians who upheld balance. But some grew too strong for this realm and had to ascend, while others fell to time and corruption. Even the membrane that shields your world from destructive forces is failing."
"The membrane?"
"A thin veil separates your world from forces that would see it destroyed," he explained solemnly. "Practitioners once reinforced it, but now… there is no one left."
"You're certain there are no other practitioners?" Maya pressed.
"There may have been some who escaped my notice," the ancestor admitted reluctantly. "But only under extraordinary circumstances. If they surpassed my tier—Tier 5 Platinum—I would not have sensed them, as they would have been ejected from this realm entirely. The realm cannot sustain those beyond Tier 5. Alternatively, they may have suppressed their cultivation near me, but doing so risks grave injury to the soul. Both scenarios are highly unlikely."
Maya frowned. "So… it's just me?"
"For now," the voice said gently. "But do not despair. If others exist, they will reveal themselves in time. Remember, though—power corrupts. Many practitioners succumbed to the forces they once opposed. And then, there is my scattered power."
Her pulse quickened. "What about it?"
"It has fallen into the world. Fragments of it might have bonded—or rejected—new hosts. But the wings do not bond lightly. Those who fail to meet the wings' requirements will be burned away."
The weight of his words pressed heavily on her chest. She closed her eyes, inhaling the calming scent of incense.
"Fear is the greatest enemy of will, child," the voice murmured. "Focus on yourself. Cultivate your strength. The rest will reveal itself in time."
Maya nodded, her resolve hardening like tempered steel. Outside, the sun climbed higher, its golden light spilling through the windows. But within the meditation chamber, her focus burned brighter than ever.