Chapter 5: The Hero's Emissary
James stared at the silver-haired woman standing just a few feet from him, the soft glow from the monolith casting ghost-like shadows across her face. Her cloak didn't move with the wind like normal fabric—it shimmered in slow pulses, like waves gently kissing the shore, whispering power in silence.
"You've been chosen," she said again, calmly. As if this happened every day.
James blinked. His lips parted, but no sound came out.
Was this real? Was she real?
He looked around. The clearing hadn't changed. The glyphs on the monolith still glowed with a soft, steady rhythm. The scent of burning leaves lingered faintly in the air. He could still feel the heat of the fire that had just poured out of him. It was real. All of it.
"...Chosen?" he finally asked, his voice rough, barely above a whisper.
The woman gave a small, knowing nod. Her eyes—silver like moonlight on metal—never left his.
"Yes. Your Emotional Aura has awakened. The signal was received. The Hero's School has dispatched me to evaluate and retrieve you."
He frowned. "Wait. You mean the Hero's School? Like the one... from the mainland?"
"The one from Dimension Level 9, yes."
James felt like he'd been punched in the lungs.
She wasn't from the island. She wasn't even from this world.
"This... this doesn't make sense," he said. "I—I just figured out I have... something. You're telling me I'm ready to go there?"
"No one is ready," she replied smoothly. "They either go... or they don't."
He felt that pressure again. Not from her. From the air around her. Like gravity bending around a black hole.
"Who... are you?" he asked.
She stepped closer. "My name is Kaela. I'm a field emissary for the Hero's School. I belong to the Observation Class—the ones who track, verify, and activate candidates across scattered border realms. You, James Calren, are a recognized core-bonded candidate. Your aura flare was unmistakable. Red Type. Stage One ignition. Unstable, but powerful."
She paused.
"You're now on the Ascension Watchlist."
James didn't even know what that meant.
But her words weren't meant to comfort.
They were meant to shift his world.
And they did.
James took an unconscious step back, his heel crunching on a dried leaf. His instincts screamed at him to run, to retreat from this surreal storm he had just stumbled into—but something inside him held firm. That same fire that had erupted from within him earlier... it didn't just burn to destroy.
It burned to understand.
"Ascension Watchlist?" he asked cautiously, still trying to wrap his mind around the terminology.
Kaela offered a small nod, pulling from her cloak a floating, transparent crystal cube. Symbols flickered inside it like fireflies trapped in glass.
"You are now catalogued as an aura candidate of potential. Red Type Auras—especially Stage One manifestors—are incredibly rare in wild sectors like this island. The Watchlist is the database of high-value awakened individuals. You're on it now."
James swallowed hard. "So... what happens next?"
Kaela's expression didn't change. She was calm. Almost too calm. Like she'd done this hundreds of times. Like she knew the storm she was about to toss him into and still didn't flinch.
"We conduct your first synchronization test," she said, floating the cube closer to him. "You sync with this—The Prism Core. It will verify your aura signature, stage alignment, and emotional stability."
"Emotional stability?" James blinked.
Kaela gave a barely-there smile. "Your power is your emotion. If you're unbalanced... the result could be catastrophic."
James exhaled slowly. "Well, that's comforting."
Kaela actually smirked at that.
"Place your hand over the core," she instructed, holding it steady in the air.
James stared at the hovering cube. He could feel a soft hum vibrating in the air around it, as if it wasn't just a floating object—it was alive. He reached out slowly, fingers trembling slightly, and laid his palm against the surface.
The cube didn't feel solid.
It felt like warm water and glass at the same time.
Then—
FLASH.
A surge of heat coursed through his arm like molten lava. His eyes widened as his entire body lit up from within—crimson veins of energy glowing through his skin. The cube burst into a storm of swirling symbols and colors, flooding the air with radiant patterns.
Kaela stepped back, her expression shifting to one of alertness.
"Unusual..." she murmured.
James gritted his teeth. His body felt like it was being rewritten from the inside out. His memories began flashing—his aunt's smile, the quiet island nights, the loneliness, the anger, the quiet ache for more... everything surged forward, and then—
BOOM.
The cube exploded in a brilliant light, shattering into thousands of tiny crimson shards that scattered into the wind.
James fell to his knees, panting. Steam rose off his back.
Kaela looked both surprised... and intrigued.
"That wasn't supposed to happen," James coughed, wiping his mouth.
"No," Kaela agreed, walking over and kneeling beside him. "That... was something else."
She reached out, placing two fingers on the side of his neck, her eyes glowing faintly. She closed her eyes for a second.
"...Stage One confirmed. But your emotional density is far beyond normal."
James looked at her, confused.
"Is that... good?"
Kaela opened her eyes. "It's dangerous."
She stood, offering a hand to help him up. He hesitated, then took it.
"You're not just any Red Aura wielder," she said. "You're what we call a Catalyst."
"What does that mean?"
Kaela turned her eyes toward the sea, the wind catching her cloak.
"It means... your presence changes things. You don't just have emotions. You amplify them in others. Friend or foe. You are a living amplifier... and possibly a beacon."
"A beacon for what?" he asked.
She looked back at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
"For war."
The sea air had shifted.
There was a tension in the breeze now—like the island itself had heard Kaela's words and decided to hold its breath. The waves, usually a gentle lullaby against the shore, now beat against the rocks with an edge of impatience.
James stood silently, Kaela's words still spinning in his mind.
"A beacon for war..." he repeated under his breath.
He didn't know what that meant exactly. But it didn't sound like a compliment.
"I'm not some kind of weapon," he said aloud, looking at Kaela, his voice tinged with a mix of defiance and uncertainty. "I didn't ask for this. I was just trying to survive... I didn't want any of this."
Kaela's gaze softened. "No Catalyst ever does."
She turned, walking slowly toward the cliffside. "But fate doesn't wait for permission. It just arrives—unannounced, uninvited... and often, unwanted."
James followed her gaze. The ocean stretched endlessly before them. Somewhere out there was a school for heroes. A multiverse war. People like him—who could bend fire or air or who knew what else... with their feelings?
He scoffed a little. It sounded ridiculous. Like something out of the old fantasy books he used to sneak from his aunt's shelf.
But the warmth still crackled faintly in his veins. The memory of the cube exploding—the power, the truth of it all—was undeniable.
"So... what now?" he asked. "Do I just pack a bag and follow you to some floating wizard school in the sky?"
Kaela chuckled—quietly, but genuinely.
"Not quite. But close."
She pulled out a small metallic orb from her cloak. With a light tap, it expanded midair, unfolding itself into a glowing hologram.
A massive, circular vessel hovered in the image above her palm—like a cross between a starship and a temple. Its design was fluid, ancient, yet futuristic. Runes wrapped around its outer structure, constantly shifting and pulsing.
"This is the Arcanos Helix. A mobile academy that orbits between sectors of the Level 9 dimension."
James blinked. "It's not on a planet?"
Kaela shook her head. "The Hero's School hasn't been on any fixed world in over four hundred years. Too dangerous. We move constantly, undetected. Only Emissaries can access the Gate Pathways leading to it."
She paused, letting that sink in.
"And we only bring those... who survive the trials."
James raised an eyebrow. "Trials?"
Kaela nodded. "You didn't think syncing with the Prism Core was enough, did you?"
James rubbed his face. "Of course not."
Kaela smiled. "There are three. Each one designed to test your aura, your mind, and your will."
He looked at her suspiciously. "And if I fail?"
"You die," she said simply.
James laughed once, stopped, and stared. "You're not joking."
"No."
He rubbed his arms instinctively, a cold shiver running down his spine. "And you just throw people into this?"
"We don't throw anyone. We invite. You can say no."
James looked around him—at the only home he'd ever known. The island. The trees. The crashing waves.
But there was no future here.
Just routine. Just echoes. Just waiting.
"...Where's the first trial?"
Kaela turned, a glint of approval in her eyes. "It begins at moonrise."
Hours Later – In the Heart of the Island
The sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest. James followed Kaela through a narrow trail he'd never noticed before—hidden beneath overgrown vines and thick branches.
As they emerged into a clearing, James froze.
A circle of ancient stone pillars surrounded a crystalline pool in the center. The air here was different. Thicker. Like reality itself had been peeled back.
"What is this place?" he whispered.
Kaela stepped into the circle. "This is one of the few remaining wild sanctums. Places untouched by the collapse of emotional harmonics. It's neutral ground. It will not interfere with your aura."
She turned to face him.
"The first trial is simple," she said. "You must confront yourself."
James frowned. "That's it?"
Kaela extended her hand to the pool.
And then it began to glow.
From its depths, a figure emerged—one that made James take two sharp steps back.
It was... him.
But not just him. This version of James had fire in his eyes. Literally. His aura blazed like a phoenix behind him. His expression was twisted in anger, desperation, and pain.
"What the hell is that?!"
Kaela stood silently. "That is your emotional construct. All your deepest unresolved feelings, unspoken rage, repressed pain... given form."
The construct stepped forward, its voice like cracked mirrors.
"You ran from everything. From the loss. From the truth. From me."
James clenched his fists. "This isn't real."
The construct smirked. "Neither was the childhood you invented. Or the lies you told yourself every night to fall asleep."
James lunged forward without thinking—his fists igniting with embers.
The battle had begun.
James had fought with himself before.
Not like this.
His fists surged with fire—not the chaotic sparks of panic like when he first activated his aura, but a focused burn, as if the heat was listening to his anger. Yet, the figure before him—the twisted, raw version of himself—burned brighter. Hotter. More wild.
Their flames collided mid-air with a shockwave that sent leaves spiraling off the trees.
The emotional construct sneered.
"You really think you're ready for a war across dimensions, James? You can't even accept who you are."
James growled and stepped forward, a fiery kick aimed for the construct's chest.
It blocked it with a hand—flames meeting flames—yet the impact caused a quake that echoed across the sacred grove. Kaela stood at the edge, watching intently, arms folded, her cloak fluttering in the pressure wind.
"You're the weak version," the construct said, circling him. "The part of me that kept quiet when Aunt Mira cried herself to sleep every night. The part that pretended you didn't hear her scream when your parents died."
James flinched. "Shut up."
"You wanted the story where they died in a storm. You invented it. Because it was easier than the truth."
His voice cracked. "SHUT UP!"
He launched a barrage of flame punches, the grove glowing red as embers scattered with every blow. The construct absorbed the attacks, barely flinching, before retaliating with a brutal uppercut that sent James flying into one of the stone pillars.
The stone cracked.
James coughed, gasping, vision swimming. Heat roared in his ears.
"Why do you think the Prism Core chose you?" the construct spat. "Because you're special? No. Because you're unstable. You're ripe for awakening."
James struggled to his feet. Blood trickled from his nose.
"I didn't ask for this."
"And yet... here you are," the construct hissed, walking toward him. "Challenging destiny with nothing but denial in your heart."
James clenched his fists. The fire inside him was flickering now, not from exhaustion—but from doubt.
Then Kaela's voice rang out, distant but piercing.
"James. The first trial is not about defeating him."
The construct halted.
James blinked.
"It's about understanding him."
The fire inside him sputtered. He dropped to one knee, breathing heavily.
Understanding?
He looked at the construct again—his own face, twisted with pain.
He suddenly saw it.
Not rage.
Not evil.
It was grief. Weaponized.
The construct was hurting.
"You... you're not just my enemy," James whispered. "You're the part of me I've been pretending doesn't exist."
The construct stilled.
"I blamed myself for their deaths," James continued, his voice cracking. "I hated how I smiled at the storm that night. I thought... maybe if I'd screamed louder, if I'd gone outside... maybe I could've saved them."
The construct's flames dimmed slightly.
"But I was just a kid."
James stood slowly.
"I didn't choose what happened. But I can choose what happens next."
The aura around James shifted.
The fire didn't explode outward—it turned inward, settling around his form like a protective coat. His breathing steadied. The island air cooled.
And the construct... smiled.
Then, it crumbled into embers and faded into the air.
Silence fell across the grove.
Kaela walked over, solemnly.
"You passed."
James collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving. "That... sucked."
Kaela smirked. "It always does."
Later That Night
Back at the cabin, James sat at the small table, a steaming bowl of Kaela's weird green stew in front of him. It tasted like spicy tree bark and regret, but he didn't complain. He needed the fuel.
Kaela leaned against the counter, arms crossed.
"You've unlocked Stage 2 of your Red Aura," she said.
James blinked. "Already?"
She nodded. "Most initiates struggle for months. Your emotional feedback loop is unusually responsive."
"Because I'm a 'Catalyst'?"
Kaela gave him a look. "Among other things."
James sighed. "I still don't know what that means."
"You will. In time."
She paused.
"But you need to be prepared. The second trial isn't here. It's inside the mirror temple, hidden beneath the core roots of this island. And unlike the first... the second one isn't just mental. It's emotional and physical."
James looked up. "What do I fight there?"
Kaela's eyes darkened.
"Someone you loved."