Kael's new quarters sat deeper in the Hollow, past the herb racks and beneath a slope where the mist hung like old breath.
It wasn't large—barely wider than a burial casket—but it had walls, a door, and silence.
A room of one's own.
He dropped his satchel near the bedding, took off his outer robe, and let his fingers run across the carved symbols on the wooden floor. Subtle channels curved outward from the center like veins. The air smelled of crushed moss and iron.
It was a cultivation room.
Or rather, a shell of one.
That evening, as the Hollow quieted, Kael lit a single oil lamp and sat cross-legged in the center of the room.
He unrolled the parchment containing the Nameless Verse. The ink shimmered faintly in the flickering light, but not from spirit—it was something else. Something reactive.
He read the lines again:
Let the breath follow the root.
Let the stillness shape the spine.
Let the emptiness name the marrow...
He closed his eyes and breathed.
In.
Hold.
Out.
Repeat.
He felt… nothing.
No warmth. No current. No stirring of inner qi.
Only lungs filling and emptying. Only silence.
An hour passed.
Then two.
Kael opened his eyes and stared at the floor.
His fingers reached for his satchel, pulling it closer.
He didn't know why.
Maybe it was habit. Maybe comfort.
Maybe the bottle.
He pulled it out.
The glass was cool, yet shimmered faintly from within—like a distant echo of moonlight trapped in water.
He turned it in his hand.
His hand brushed the rim—and he winced.
A jagged splinter, left from the old herb basket, had sliced his palm earlier. The cut was shallow, but a single bead of blood had welled up at his thumb.
It smeared across the lip of the bottle before he noticed.
He hissed, wiped his hand on his sleeve, and muttered something under his breath. He thought no more of it.
But the bottle pulsed once.
Soft. Green. Subtle.
And for a fleeting second, along the inside of the glass—
A curve of light appeared.
Gold, but pale. Thin. Twisting like a bent reed in water.
Not writing. Not a sigil.
Something older. Something waiting.
Then—it vanished.
Kael didn't see it.
He had already placed the bottle back on the shelf.
It glowed faintly again.
But this time…
He thought—just for a moment—he heard it hum.
Like it was listening too.