Emotions Across the Fire

The plaza slowly thinned as the affinity test concluded. The crowd dispersed in buzzing waves, but the echoes of the revelation still lingered.

A dual affinity cultivator.

And not just any—lightning and darkness.

Chase stood with his spear-turned-staff tucked under one arm, listening to the murmurs die away. Milo sat beside him, licking his paw, eyes lazily tracking the last of the spectators. The golden fur along his spine gleamed in the late afternoon light, his elegant form making him look like a celestial beast plucked from legend.

Chase, for once, did not try to hide.

Not that he had anything left to hide.

A few sect envoys whispered nearby, scribbling on their scrolls. The representatives from lesser sects hesitated to approach. One muttered, "He's already claimed, right? Someone that rare doesn't just walk into Farin's Crossing alone."

But no one came.

Except one.

"I figured I'd find you brooding somewhere dramatic."

Elara Wren stepped into view, her auburn hair fluttering in the light breeze. Her presence turned heads—again. Wrapped in a dark blue robe with silver embroidery, she looked every bit the heiress of a great merchant clan. The kind that didn't need to bow to anyone, sect or noble alike.

She sat beside him on the bench without asking, crossing one leg over the other with a quiet grace. "Still no offers?"

Chase shrugged. "One from someone desperate. I said I'd think about it."

She laughed. "Did you mean it?"

"No."

"You're terrible."

A smile threatened the corner of his lips.

Elara leaned back, glancing at him. "You do know what you're worth, right?"

"I know I've only started."

That answer made her go quiet. She glanced out over the plaza, now bathed in golden hues. "Most people would already be drunk on pride after a display like that."

"I'm not most people."

She looked at him again. "No. You're not."

They sat in silence for a while, just the occasional chirp of birds and the wind brushing through the leaves. Milo yawned.

A young sect envoy approached, nervously clutching a scroll. He bowed. "Sir… I-I represent the Jade Vine Sect. We'd be honored to—"

"No thanks," Chase said without looking up.

The man blinked. "But—"

"I'm not interested."

The envoy looked stunned, then bowed stiffly and hurried away.

Elara smirked. "You really are terrible."

"I don't like people who only want me now that it's convenient."

"I get that."

She didn't elaborate, but something behind her voice said she meant it.

A group of younger cultivators stood nearby, glancing between Milo and Chase with awe and caution. One bold one—tall, lanky—walked closer. "Hey, can I pet your beast?"

Milo lifted his head. A spark of lightning crackled in the air between his whiskers.

The boy yelped and stumbled back. Chase chuckled under his breath. Elara covered her mouth.

As dusk settled, a town elder returned to the plaza and spoke with a voice infused with spiritual energy.

"Top fifty participants! You will remain in Farin's Crossing for tonight. Final selections from the Five Grand Sects will occur at dawn tomorrow!"

Whispers broke out again.

Chase stood. Elara glanced up. "Staying at the inn?"

"I'll find my own spot."

"Same."

She fell into step beside him, much to the frustration of some nearby suitors.

They wandered to the outskirts of the town, where farmland faded into thickets of trees and gentle hills. Chase found a quiet grove and set down his pack. He lit a small fire, then leaned against a tree trunk. Elara didn't ask for permission—she simply settled on the opposite side of the fire.

The flames flickered, casting dancing shadows across her face.

"Why'd you join the recruitment?" Chase asked.

Elara paused. "My family wanted me to choose a path. We're merchants, not warriors. But we deal with everyone—nobles, sects, assassins, even smugglers. I figured I should see what the world looks like outside a gilded cage."

She added a small stick to the fire.

"What about you?" she asked.

Chase stared at the embers. "I need to get stronger."

"Why?"

"To survive."

That silenced her for a time.

"You always talk like you've already seen hell."

"Maybe I have."

Their eyes met across the firelight. For a moment, Elara's smirk faded. Then she looked away, lips tightening into a thoughtful line.

"You know," she said softly, "you and I—we're not so different."

He raised a brow. "You've lived a very different life."

"Maybe. But it gets lonely, doesn't it? Being surrounded by people who want something from you—but not you."

Chase didn't answer.

Elsewhere, in a Distant Hall…

In another city, lit by floating jade lanterns and overseen by stone dragons, five figures stood in debate.

A sharp-eyed woman in dark robes slammed a palm on the table. "That boy is mine. The Silent Moon Sect trains in shadow and control—his affinities align with our core path."

An old man in green, robes patterned like tree bark, shook his head. "Bah! He needs grounding, discipline. The Verdant Hollow Sect would forge him into a proper cultivator."

A third, robed in white and silver, only smiled. "The Celestial Forge Sect believes in letting talent burn itself bright. Perhaps he will choose for himself."

They argued, not just about Chase—but about Elara, and others among the top ten.

But the decision was not theirs alone.

...

As the fire crackled gently in the grove, Elara lay back with her arms behind her head.

"You know, tomorrow's going to be chaos."

Chase didn't answer.

"But at least I'll have a front-row seat to it," she added with a smirk. "Right next to the most interesting person I've met."

Chase leaned back, letting the night swallow his thoughts.

He had no idea which sect he'd end up in.

But one thing was certain.

This was only the beginning.