"Lost in thought again, Jhon?"
Selene's voice pierced the quietude like a breeze over ancient waters. Within it lay something beyond sound—a deep vibration as if each word summoned silent responses from reality itself.
Jhon looked up, pulled from his silent spiral of contemplation. He hadn't noticed her approach. That was her way: subtle yet undeniable presence.
Their eyes met briefly. He permitted himself a faint smile—discreet, nearly imperceptible, yet genuine. A shard of light within his mind's gravity.
"These students... show promise" he murmured, his voice carrying a note of sorrow that contrasted with the hopeful gleam in his words. His hands rested on the runic table before him—a living surface breathing fragments of eras. Energy lines coursed through its veins like arcane blood in a stone body.
"But the path opening before them... isn't merely complex. It's cruel. Crossing between veils of existence and dissolution demands what few can maintain: soul's wholeness. The burden of revelation could consume even the most resolute"
Selene watched him with silent attention. Her eyes—two calm emeralds in a serene face—reflected beyond empathy. Deep recognition from one who'd faced the abyss of existence and returned transformed.
She drifted closer, movements fluid as cosmic choreography.
"True understanding never comes raw, Jhon" she said, tenderness wrapped in conviction. "Not even for us. What we teach... are starting points. Real learning emerges in the crossing: in falls, scars, pain... and rare flashes of insight"
She placed her book on the table with relic-handling care. Runes on its cover glowed briefly—a subtle, respectful acknowledgment. The air thickened momentarily with ancestral weight.
"This tome was sealed when constellations still obeyed whispered commands" she said. "It holds forgotten fragments, remnants of risky... necessary wisdom. The youths we guide today may reach realities even we... avoid touching"
Jhon reached toward the tome. His fingers halted centimeters away, sensing its pulse—slow, steady, grave as time's drums. Like holding Samsara's rhythm: the ceaseless cycle of birth, loss, and return.
When he opened it, he lifted a veil between worlds. Pages revealed arcane diagrams—not mere lines but subtly shifting forms pulsing with ancient Qi. Rivers of symbols intertwined in living spirals, each curve a hidden path, each dot a seed.
"This... could change everything" he murmured, more to himself than her.
Selene withdrew with the lightness of one never fully belonging to this world. Her silk dress floated around her like conscious mist, touching ground only by courtesy. Silence seemed to bow at her departure—reverent as before a deity.
"Until class, Master of Return"
The title held layers.
Selene never used words lightly—and when she did, they opened portals in listeners. By naming him thus, she acknowledged what Jhon truly was: a master whose command over life-death cycles transcended ordinary limits. One who didn't just understand the gates between worlds but crossed them at will.
She vanished down academy corridors, leaving behind a gentle breeze scented with ethereal star-jasmine.
Jhon breathed deeply, inhaling not just fragrance but the moment's weight. His eyes closed briefly. In self-imposed darkness, future glimpses danced: diverging paths, inevitable pains, and a tenacious flicker of hope.
He knew what came next wasn't mere learning.
It was revelation.
Choices capable of altering destiny's fabric.
While youths sought power, wisdom, transcendence... he was there for something greater.
To guide them.
Or restrain them, if needed.
Meanwhile, across the academy...
Selene Aetheris walked the great instruction tower's halls. The environment reacted to her presence—white marble floors mirrored not just her image but her gait's grace. Stained glass windows cast dancing shadows moving to her rhythm, as if honoring each step.
No sound. Her footsteps were silent wisdom-promises. Her dress—silver and seafoam—seemed woven from the plane's life-energy itself. Time slowed in her presence.
Wherever she passed, young and veteran cultivators paused their practice, bowing slightly. Not protocol. Respect. Not for her beauty (undeniable though it was), but for her presence: rare equilibrium between absolute power and sincere compassion. Like a flame that warms without consuming.
Today, she approached the advanced class. Youths aged sixteen to eighteen, chosen not just for raw talent but for the rare spark in their spiritual cores. They sought to understand Creation and Life's primordial paths—cosmic streams intertwining like galaxies dancing in void.
The classroom door opened at her touch.
A near-imperceptible breeze entered with her.
Not wind.
Energy—manifestation of Selene's essence, whispering that everything was about to change.
Students sat in silence. Not enforced. Instinctive. Something in them understood their souls would be challenged henceforth.
Selene crossed the circular hall to its center. Pale jade floors reflected not just disciples' bodies but their hidden hesitations, yearnings.
She raised one hand—a simple yet absolute gesture.
A silent barrier rose around the room.
The outside world ceased.
With a voice seeming born from the world's heart, she began:
"Today" she said "we part the veils of creative paths. And those sustaining existence"
Selene's presence became the gravitational center of a stellar system. Even wordless, her aura held all in orbit—attentive, silent, receptive.
As she raised her hand, air rippled. An energy sphere manifested before her. Gold and blue swirled in slow spirals—as if time itself were contained within.
She named nothing. Students felt it in bodies and souls: the call of vastness.
The sphere wasn't just light.
It was potential matter.
Idea before form.
An ancestral pulse whispering the origin of all.
"What you see" Selene's voice dawn-soft over ancient lakes "is no mere spell. It's reality's seed. What precedes the word—what shapes matter and inscribes meaning onto void"
The sphere transformed, rotating in complex patterns. Miniature continents emerged. Oceans and mountains sprouted like memories of lost worlds. Ephemeral creatures walked fleeting lands. Then collapse: quakes, deserts, ice. All returning to source.
Students watched breathless, witnessing eternity and ruin's intimate dance.
"All creation carries disappearance's promise" she continued, walking among them. "To create is an act of love... and detachment. Nothing truly alive remains unchanged"
She paused. In that silence, young hearts beat in time with the cosmic sphere.
Many breathed differently now—deeper, more present.
With another gesture, she dissolved the miniature world. In its place, a white flower bloomed.
Simplicity contrasting the earlier spectacle, yet its presence was overwhelming.
Gentle perfume filled the room. Warmth touched each disciple like a forgotten embrace.
"Shaping forms isn't enough" Selene said. "The true crossing occurs when creation begins to feel. When it pulses with purpose"
The flower vibrated with pure energy—as if born not from will but world-connections.
Students felt the inexplicable—an invisible thread stretching from stem to their cores.
"This flower breathes the same breath sustaining us. It wasn't just formed—it was aligned with existence's eternal flow. This is understanding life's foundation"
A wide-eyed student couldn't contain his unrest:
"Master Selene... how can we approach such power? This seems... beyond comprehension"
She turned to him. Her smile held the tenderness of a thousand lives.
"You were made for this. Why couldn't you grasp it? Touching life's fabric requires neither force nor haste. But listening. Humility before the unseen. A willing heart"
Then, before their eyes, the flower brightened. Not violently—with growing beauty. Petals turned gold. The stem strengthened. The very room seemed to breathe around it. Not mere transformation... revelation.
"This" she said, voice low and firm "is evolution. Not change of form—but expansion of purpose. Life-energy, wisely guided, doesn't just heal... it rebuilds. Transforms decay into birth. Makes forgotten things blossom"
Silence.
Denser than any sound.
Even skeptics sat motionless.
In that moment—no technique, no rivalry, no desire existed.
Selene dissolved the flower. The room exhaled collectively, returning to neutrality.
"Now... feel"
She retreated to the circle's edge, making space.
Disciples closed their eyes one by one.
Environmental Qi thickened—not oppressively, but softly.
A subtle vibration, like cosmic strings stretched between their chests and infinity.
"Don't seek control. Just perceive. The flow is everywhere. Within you. Between you"
She walked silently among students. Her eyes saw beyond postures—seeing inner fluctuations, faint glows in each core. Every soul a distant lamp: some flickering, others surprisingly steady.
"Those who shape must also sustain. Creation without purpose tears holes in the world's fabric. Life demands responsibility"
With a gesture, she raised the energy sphere again—now more complex. Diagrams appeared inside: concentric circles, spiral flows, interlinked chains.
"Existence's cycles reflect cultivation stages. Four expressions: Birth, Deepening, Transformation, Union"
She touched each circle. All glowed.
"In the first, you absorb the world. In the second, converse with it. In the third, shape it. In the fourth... become it"
She pointed to a student.
"You. Feel. Don't think"
He nodded.
Concentrated.
Slowly, a small flame sparked in his palm.
Flickering... but alive.
Timid will seeking permission to exist.
"Now listen to it. Don't command. Understand its cycle"
The youth stilled.
The flame stabilized.
Sweat beaded his temples—spiritual effort, not physical.
Others followed: a water droplet in a girl's palm, a sprouting leaf in another's. Faint lights. Trembling vibrations.
Not grand feats...
But real.
Selene raised both hands. Center-energy condensed like a star's birth.
A colossal tree emerged—roots piercing untouchable planes, branches stretching as open arms toward infinity.
"She's no illusion. She lives. Feels. Learns. If wounded, she'll remember. If loved, she'll blossom"
Students stood now—eyes wide, hearts beating to creation's rhythm.
"In time... you too may do this. Not just shape the world... but give it meaning"
She lowered her hands.
The tree remained.