Chapter 7: Flickering Resolve

The forest stretched endlessly before Lan Wei, the trees swaying in the cool breeze. The familiar trails he had once wandered now felt different—darker, more foreboding. The uncertainty that had filled his heart for days had not disappeared, but instead, had settled deeper inside him. He gripped the strap of his satchel tightly, the faint pulse of the shard brushing against his side like a constant whisper.

I have to get stronger, he thought, but the words didn't carry the weight he had hoped they would. They felt like an echo of something distant, something he didn't quite believe yet.

Lan continued through the forest, the cool air brushing against his face, but his steps were hesitant. His father's words rang in his mind again: Power rules everything. That idea, so foreign to the way he had been raised, now circled around him like a storm he couldn't escape. He knew it was true. He could see it in his father's fading strength, in his mother's quiet sorrow, in the fragility of the village he had always called home.

But knowing the truth wasn't enough.

As much as he told himself that he needed to change, to embrace the path of power and strength, he couldn't seem to take that final step. His body felt heavy with hesitation, his thoughts swirling with doubt.

I've never been the type for this, he admitted to himself, pushing a branch aside as he walked. I've never needed to be strong. I was happy. Why does everything have to change now?

That was the truth, wasn't it? He had never cared about cultivation, about Qi, or about power. He had been content with his simple life in the village, with his family, with Mei. The idea of chasing strength, of pushing his body to its limits, felt so far away from the person he had always been.

Lan paused by a stream, kneeling down to let the cool water flow over his hands. The rush of the water was soothing, but it didn't ease the turmoil inside him. He looked down at his reflection, seeing the same face he had always known staring back at him. But something was different—something in his eyes.

I'm not ready for this, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek. I want to be stronger. I want to protect my family. But I don't know how.

He reached into his satchel and pulled out the shard, its faint glow casting a soft light over his face. It hummed quietly in his palm, as if it, too, was waiting for him to make a decision. Lan stared at it, feeling the weight of its potential, the power that seemed just out of reach. But he couldn't quite bring himself to fully grasp it.

I don't even know where to start, he admitted, frustration bubbling up in his chest. I want to change, but...

The problem wasn't just the fear of pain or failure. It was the fear of losing himself. The boy who had been content with a simple life—the one who found joy in small things, in the warmth of his family, in the peace of the village—would he still exist if Lan Wei took the path of power?

Lan clenched his fist around the shard, feeling the warmth spread through his hand. He had never needed to be strong before. That had been for other people—people like Mei, who always seemed to understand the importance of power, who never hesitated to chase after it.

But Lan wasn't Mei. He didn't see the world the way she did. He couldn't.

As the sun began to set, Lan found himself in a small clearing, the light filtering through the trees in soft, golden rays. He sat down on a fallen log, his body tired from the day's journey, his mind even more exhausted. The shard sat in his hand, still glowing faintly.

I want to change, he thought, his heart heavy with the weight of his own indecision. I know I need to. But I don't know if I can.

His father had been so sure—so certain that power was the only thing that mattered in the world. And maybe he was right. Maybe Lan needed to stop being afraid, to stop clinging to the life he had known. But that didn't make it any easier.

"I want to be strong," Lan muttered to himself, the words falling flat. "I need to be."

The shard hummed again, its glow pulsing in time with his heartbeat. But even as he said the words, Lan knew he wasn't ready. Not yet.

He stared down at the shard, his thoughts racing. Part of him wanted to throw it away, to rid himself of the burden it represented. But another part of him—the part that knew deep down that he couldn't stay the same forever—kept him holding on to it.

Lan stood up slowly, slipping the shard back into his satchel. His body was tired, and his mind was even more so. He wasn't ready for the change he knew was coming, but it didn't matter. Change didn't wait for anyone.

Maybe I don't have the strength yet, he thought, his steps slow as he made his way back through the forest. But I can't keep avoiding it.

He walked in silence, the weight of the shard pulling at him with every step. He wanted to be strong, but the determination he needed was still out of reach, flickering just beyond his grasp. He was on the edge of something, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to fall.

Back at the village, the house was quiet when Lan returned. His mother sat by his father's side, as always, her soft whispers filling the room. His father's breathing was shallow, each breath a struggle. Lan stood in the doorway for a moment, watching them, feeling the weight of their love and the weight of his own helplessness.

I have to be stronger, he thought, clenching his fists. But... I'm not ready yet.

He moved to sit by his father's bed, his heart heavy. The determination he sought wasn't there, not yet. But it would come. It had to. He couldn't live like this forever.

For now, though, all he could do was wait. Wait for the moment when everything would change.