Jin Xiao knelt in the ashes of his father.

  The sun had risen hours ago, but he hadn't moved. His knees pressed into scorched earth that had long since gone cold. His hands lay limp at his sides. His eyes, dry and hollow, stared at the blackened ground where Hu Xiao had stood in his final moment.

  Nothing remained.

  Not a body. Not ashes. Not even the greatsword that had been his father's constant companion for as long as Jin could remember.

  Just empty, scorched earth.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jin knew he should move. Should find water. Should tend to his wounds. Should do something other than kneel here like a statue while the sun climbed higher and the morning grew warm.

  He didn't move.

  What was the point?

  The capital stretched around him in ruins. Craters where buildings had stood. Rubble where streets had run. Silence where thousands of voices had once filled the air with life and commerce and laughter.

  All of it gone.

  Everyone he had ever known.

  Gone.

  Jin's throat was raw. He'd screamed himself hoarse at some point during the night, though he couldn't remember when. The tears had stopped too, dried up sometime before dawn, leaving only this hollow emptiness that seemed to expand with every breath.

  His seventeenth birthday.

  The thought drifted through his mind like ash on the wind. Meaningless. Absurd. What did birthdays matter when there was no one left to celebrate them with?

  Time passed. The sun moved across the sky. Jin's lips cracked from thirst. His stomach cramped with hunger he didn't feel. His body was failing, and he couldn't bring himself to care.

  *Just stay here.*

  The thought was quiet. Peaceful, almost.

  *Stay here until it doesn't hurt anymore.*

  His eyes began to close. The scorched earth beneath his knees felt almost comfortable now. Familiar. If he just... stopped fighting... stopped trying to exist... maybe the pain would finally end.

  The pendant burned.

  Jin's eyes snapped open. His hand flew to his chest where the obsidian pendant had suddenly flared with heat, far hotter than it had ever been before. The spiral sigil on its surface pulsed with white light, bright enough to see even in the afternoon sun.

  "Foolish boy."

  The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Ancient. Raspy. Sharp with irritation.

  Jin lurched backward, nearly falling. His hand went to his sword hilt on instinct, though his arms felt like lead and his grip was weak from hours of stillness.

  "Who—"

  "Sit still. You'll fall over and crack your skull, and then this will all have been for nothing."

  The light from the pendant intensified, coalescing in the air beside Jin. It took shape slowly, the outline of a figure, translucent and flickering like a candle flame in wind. An old man, short and wiry, with a long white beard and eyes that seemed too sharp, too knowing, for his weathered face.

  Jin stared.

  The old man stared back.

  "Well?" The apparition crossed his arms. "Nothing to say? No screaming? No 'what manner of demon are you?' I'm almost disappointed."

  Jin's mouth opened. Closed. His mind, fogged with grief and exhaustion, struggled to process what he was seeing.

  "I..." His voice came out as a croak. "The pendant..."

  "Yes, the pendant. Very observant." The old man's form flickered, steadied. "I've been in here for quite some time. Longer than you've been alive. Longer than your father was alive. Possibly longer than this kingdom existed, though my sense of time is... unreliable."

  Jin's hand tightened on the pendant. It was cooling now, the heat fading to a gentle warmth.

  "Why..." He swallowed, throat burning. "Why are you here?"

  "Because you were about to die." The old man said it flatly, without sympathy. "Sitting in the dirt, feeling sorry for yourself, waiting to expire from thirst or exposure or sheer stubbornness. Another hour, maybe two, and your body would have given out entirely." He tilted his head, studying Jin with those unsettling eyes. "I didn't save your life last night just to watch you throw it away this morning."

  Jin went still.

  Last night.

  The golden light that had erupted from his chest when the wall collapsed. The cocoon of warmth that had kept him alive beneath tons of rubble while the world burned around him.

  "That was... you?"

  "Obviously."

  "And before that..." Jin's mind raced backward, through the chaos and the fire and the blood. "During the fight. The voice that told me to circulate my qi."

  The old man's expression didn't change. "You were about to die then too. You have a talent for that, it seems."

  Jin stared at the apparition, trying to reconcile this revelation with everything he thought he knew. The pendant had always been warm. Had always felt like... something. But he'd never imagined—

  "Seventeen years," he said slowly. "You've been watching me for seventeen years."

  "Watching. Waiting. Unable to do much else." The old man's form flickered again, and for a moment Jin saw something in those ancient eyes. Frustration, perhaps. Or weariness. "The seal keeps me bound. I can observe, but I cannot act. Not unless your life is in immediate danger." He paused. "You've been in danger quite a lot recently."

  The words should have meant something. Should have sparked curiosity or fear or gratitude. But Jin felt nothing. Just that hollow emptiness, that vast aching void where his heart used to be.

  "Then you saw it all." His voice was flat. "You saw them destroy everything. Saw my father die. Saw—" His throat closed. He couldn't finish.

  "I saw."

  "And you couldn't do anything."

  "No."

  Jin's hands curled into fists. Something stirred in the emptiness, not quite anger, not quite grief, but something darker. Something with teeth.

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  "Then why are you here now? Why show yourself at all?" He met the old man's gaze, and his voice came out harder than he intended. "To gloat? To tell me you've been watching while everyone I loved was slaughtered?"

  The old man didn't flinch. Didn't react at all to Jin's sudden hostility.

  "I'm here," he said quietly, "because you're still alive. And because staying alive requires you to actually try."

  "Maybe I don't want to try."

  "Then your father died for nothing."

  The words hit Jin like a physical blow. His breath caught. His vision blurred.

  "Don't—" The word came out strangled. "Don't talk about him. You don't have the right."

  "I have every right." The old man's voice remained steady, unmoved by Jin's pain. "I watched Hu Xiao raise you from infancy. Watched him train you, protect you, love you like his own blood. I watched him burn through his life essence to defeat his enemy, only to be struck down by someone he never even had a chance to fight." Those ancient eyes bore into Jin. "And now I'm watching his son sit in the dirt, ready to waste that sacrifice because the grief hurts too much."

  Jin wanted to scream. Wanted to rage, to deny, to make this ghost or spirit or whatever he was shut up and leave him alone.

  But he couldn't.

  Because the old man was right.

  The fight drained out of Jin all at once. His shoulders slumped. His head bowed. He felt suddenly, impossibly tired.

  "I don't know what to do." The admission came out barely above a whisper. "They're all dead. Everyone. My father, my uncle, the guards, the king, everyone in the capital. House Valerian just... erased them. Like they were nothing. Like we were nothing."

  He looked up at the old man, and for the first time, he let the desperation show.

  "I'm a 2nd rate martial artist. That elder who destroyed everything, he's a Martial Master. Maybe higher, I don't know. The gap between us is..." Jin laughed, and it was a broken sound. "I couldn't even touch Ryze Valerian. Couldn't land a single clean hit on that Valerian brat. So tell me, what am I supposed to do? How do I fight something like that?"

  The old man was quiet for a long moment.

  When he spoke, his voice had lost some of its edge.

  "You don't."

  Jin blinked. "What?"

  "You don't fight them. Not now. Not as you are." The old man began to pace, his translucent form gliding through the debris. "You're right, the gap is immense. Insurmountable, at present. If you marched to House Valerian tomorrow demanding vengeance, you'd be dead before you crossed their threshold."

  "Then—"

  "But gaps can be closed." The old man stopped pacing and turned to face Jin. "Strength can be gained. Power can be cultivated. The boy who kneels in these ashes today doesn't have to be the man who faces House Valerian tomorrow."

  Jin's heart beat a little faster. It was the first thing he'd felt in hours that wasn't grief or emptiness.

  "How?"

  The old man's eyes narrowed, studying Jin with renewed intensity. "There's something in you. Something I should remember but can't. My memories are..." He touched his temple, frustration crossing his features. "Sealed. Locked away. I know I was someone once. Someone with knowledge, with power, with purpose. But the specifics are like trying to grasp smoke."

  He focused on Jin again.

  "What I do know is this: you survived last night when you should have died. The lightning that destroyed this city should have killed you too, but instead..." He gestured at Jin. "Here you are. Alive. Which means either you have extraordinary luck, or there's something about you that even Elder Yang's technique couldn't overcome."

  Jin thought about the golden light. The warmth that had surrounded him when death came down from the sky.

  "That was you," he said. "The light that protected me. You said—"

  "It was me channeling what little power I have through the pendant. But the pendant is just a focus." The old man shook his head. "The protection came from somewhere else. From you, perhaps. From whatever sleeps inside you that I can't remember." Another flicker of frustration. "It's maddening, knowing that I know something important and being unable to recall it."

  Jin absorbed this slowly. The old man had power, enough to save his life twice in one night. But even he didn't fully understand what Jin was.

  The old man's eyes suddenly sharpened. He leaned closer, studying Jin with an intensity that made Jin want to step back.

  "Wait. There's something else." The old man circled Jin slowly, his translucent form passing through rubble without notice. "Something sealed inside you. I can sense it now that I'm actually looking. It's faint, dormant, but it's there."

  Jin's heart stuttered. "What do you mean?"

  "Your innate attribute." The old man stopped in front of him. "You've always believed you had none, haven't you? That you were born without an element while everyone around you manifested fire, water, earth, wind."

  Jin's jaw tightened. The old shame rose up, years of watching other children produce elemental qi while his remained stubbornly colorless. The pitying looks. The whispered comments. The endless waiting for something that never came.

  "I don't have an attribute," he said flatly. "I've tried. For years. Nothing ever—"

  "Because it was sealed." The old man cut him off. "Locked away, just like my memories. I don't know why or by whom, but I can feel it now. A power sleeping inside you, waiting to be awakened."

  Jin stared at him. "That's... that's not possible. Captain Hu had experts examine me when I was young. They said I had no elemental affinity. That I was—"

  "They were wrong. Or they couldn't see past the seal." The old man's eyes glinted. "During your fight with that Valerian brat, when you dodged his killing blow, I felt something stir inside you. For just a moment, something slipped through the cracks. White sparks, if I recall correctly."

  Jin remembered. The strange energy that had coursed through him. The white light that had crackled across his body before fading as quickly as it appeared.

  "That was real?" His voice came out smaller than he intended. "I thought I imagined it. Or that it was just... desperation."

  "It was real. And it was yours." The old man's form solidified slightly, his expression growing serious. "I don't know what your attribute is, not yet. The seal is still blocking most of it. But I know it's there. And I believe I can help you unlock it."

  Something shifted in Jin's chest. A flicker of warmth that had nothing to do with the pendant.

  For seventeen years, he'd been the prodigy with no attribute. The talented martial artist who was held back by the one thing he couldn't control. He'd accepted it, eventually. Told himself that skill and determination could make up for what he lacked.

  But if the old man was right...

  "You can unseal it?" Jin asked. "You can give me an attribute?"

  "I can't give you anything. It's already yours, it's been yours all along." The old man shook his head. "But yes, I believe I can help you access it. Not now, I'm too weak, and you're too unstable. But once we're away from here, once you've recovered and I've regained some strength..." He met Jin's eyes. "I'll teach you how to reach what's been locked away."

  Jin's hands trembled. Not from grief this time. Not from exhaustion or despair.

  From hope.

  It was small. Fragile. Easily crushed by the weight of everything he'd lost. But it was there, flickering like a candle flame in the darkness.

  He had an attribute. He'd always had one. And this mysterious old man was going to help him unlock it.

  "Away from here." Jin forced himself to focus on the practical. On anything other than the grief that threatened to pull him back under. "Where? How do I get stronger?"

  "North." The word came immediately, as if the old man had been waiting for the question. "There's a place. An academy. I can't remember its name, but I remember its importance. It's ancient. Powerful. Connected to..." He trailed off, eyes going distant. "Something. Someone. Me, perhaps. Or you. Or both."

  "An academy."

  "For martial artists. They train the talented, push them beyond their limits, turn potential into power." The old man's form solidified slightly, as if the mere mention of this place gave him strength. "If you want to close the gap between yourself and House Valerian, that's where you need to be."

  Jin looked out at the ruins surrounding them. At the craters and the rubble and the absolute desolation that had been his home.

  "And if I don't want vengeance?" The words felt strange in his mouth, like speaking a foreign language. "If I just want the pain to stop?"

  The old man was silent for a moment.

  "Then stay here," he said finally. "Stay and rot with the ruins. Let your father's sacrifice mean nothing. Let House Valerian continue unchallenged, secure in the knowledge that they can erase entire kingdoms without consequence." His voice hardened. "But know that if you make that choice, you make it alone. I have no interest in watching a coward waste away."

  Jin flinched.

  The old man's form began to fade, growing more translucent by the moment.

  "I can't maintain this form much longer. Saving your life drained most of my reserves." His voice was growing distant. "When you've decided whether you want to live or die, we'll speak again. Until then..."

  He was almost gone now, barely visible.

  "Find water. Find food. Survive the night. That's all you need to do for now. Just survive."

  Then he was gone.

  Jin knelt alone in the ashes, the pendant cool against his chest.

  The sun had begun its descent toward the horizon. Long shadows stretched across the ruins, and the first stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky.

  He stayed there for a long time, staring at the scorched earth where his father had been erased from existence.

  Then, slowly, painfully, Jin Xiao rose to his feet.

  His legs screamed in protest. His body ached from hours of stillness and the wounds he'd suffered the night before. Every part of him wanted to collapse, to give in, to let the darkness take him.

  But his father had died protecting him.

  The old man was right about that much.

  Jin looked north. He couldn't see anything beyond the ruins, just smoke and devastation as far as his eyes could reach. But somewhere beyond all of that was an academy. A chance. A path forward that didn't end in despair.

  He didn't know if he wanted vengeance. Didn't know if he had the strength to pursue it. Didn't know anything about the mysterious old man in his pendant or the sealed attribute that might change everything.

  But he knew two things.

  He didn't want to die.

  And for the first time in seventeen years, he had reason to believe he wasn't broken.

  Jin turned and began walking. Not north, not yet. First, he needed to find water. Food. Supplies for the journey ahead.

  Tomorrow, he would leave Emberhold behind.

  Tomorrow, the old man would begin teaching him to unlock what had been sealed away all his life.

  But for now, he just needed to survive the night.

  Against his chest, the pendant pulsed once with faint warmth, then went still.