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The sun barely rose over Duskwatch, casting its warm, golden rays across the quiet, worn streets. Its light was weak, much like the hope of the people here. In the distance, the sea shimmered, dark and endless. To most, it was simply a vast, cold horizon. But to Ash, it was the place where his memories, strange and fleeting, seemed to call him.
Today, like every day, he stood at the edge of the training yard, clutching a cracked wooden staff. His feet dug into the dirt, and the wind tousled his black hair, carrying the faint scent of saltwater. He could feel the weight of the world pressing down on him.
"Still daydreaming, Ash?" came the sneer of Lin Zhou, his voice cutting through the stillness.
Ash didn't look up. He never did.
Lin Zhou, the eldest of the orphans, stood in front of him with his chest puffed out, an arrogant smirk on his face. Lin was already well into the first stage of Body Refinement—something Ash could only dream of. His strength was unmatched, and his fists were legendary among the orphaned boys.
Lin's gaze narrowed as he stepped closer, his fists clenching in anticipation. "You're nothing but a weakling, Ash. Maybe this time, I'll teach you your place."
Before he could make a move, a voice cut through the tension. "Enough."
The voice was cold and commanding, and it halted Lin in his tracks. Ash's eyes flickered up. A hooded man stood in the distance, his figure framed by the rising sun. His presence seemed to freeze the air itself, a heavy pressure settling over the entire training yard.
The man's eyes gleamed beneath the shadow of his hood. He wore a strange token on his chest—a sun bisected by black flame. As he stepped forward, the palace guards stiffened, their eyes lowering in respect. Even Lin Zhou faltered, momentarily thrown off balance by the man's aura.
Ash, however, felt something else. A strange flicker within him. Something deep inside stirred as the man's gaze met his. It wasn't just a glance—it was a pulse of energy, a recognition of something long buried. A warmth spread through his chest, followed by a faint tug in the pit of his stomach, as though the man's presence was calling him.
The man walked past Lin, who stood frozen, his arrogance momentarily erased. He moved towards the far edge of the yard, where Ash stood, still holding his staff.
For a brief moment, the man's eyes locked with Ash's once more. And then, with a barely perceptible nod, he turned and left, his presence lingering like a shadow.
Later that night, when the moon hung low in the sky and most of the orphans were asleep, Ash found himself once again lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. But sleep didn't come easily. His mind raced, thoughts swirling like a storm.
The dream returned.
The fire. The screams. The shadow of a man.
But this time, it was different.
In the dream, the fire was alive. It raged with a fury unlike anything Ash had ever witnessed. And amidst the flames, he saw a figure—a man standing tall, unscathed by the inferno. His eyes, dark as the abyss, seemed to stare into Ash's soul.
"Who are you?" Ash wanted to scream, but no sound came.
The man spoke then, his voice a low, thunderous whisper. "Beneath the sea, where silence rules… remember your name."
Ash's heart pounded in his chest as the flames roared louder. The shadowed figure reached out, his hand stretching toward Ash as though to pull him into the depths of the fire. But before the man could touch him, Ash was yanked away.
He awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat. His heart raced, the remnants of the dream lingering in his mind. His hands trembled, and he looked down at his palm.
A symbol was there. Faint at first, it shimmered like a ghostly imprint, glowing with a pale light. It resembled a crescent moon curling around a star, its edges sharp and intricate. Ash stared at it in awe and confusion.
The symbol faded after a few seconds, leaving only the faintest impression on his skin. He blinked, unsure of what had just happened. Was it real? Had he dreamed it? Or had the symbol truly appeared on his skin?
But then, as he sat up, he noticed something else.
His body felt different—lighter, yet strangely powerful, as though his very bones were humming with energy. It was as if something deep inside him had awakened.
Ash stood up, his body moving on its own. His fingers tingled, and a sharp warmth surged through his arms. The mark on his palm was gone, but its imprint remained in his mind. His heart thundered in his chest as a deep, primal instinct told him that something had shifted within him.
He stumbled to the window and gazed out at the sea. The waves crashed against the shore, but there was no peace in them—only an unspoken call.
The formation had begun to awaken. Ash didn't know what it meant, but he could feel it, deep within his soul.
And from that moment on, there would be no turning back.
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