Through Light and Shadow

Chapter 13

Hence... the endless meditating.

Suddenly—there it is.

A spark. Faint. Flickering. Yet undeniably there.

It flares within me, subtle at first, like the soft crackle of embers stirring beneath ash. But then... it grows—spreading, reaching tendrils deeper into the marrow of my being. Unlike the gentle orbs I've sensed—the familiar white, blue, and green fragments that hover around me like silent sentinels—this is different.

Older. Ancient.

It doesn't just glow. It pulls. Tugs at me, like invisible threads weaving into the fabric of my consciousness, drawing me deeper, further, beyond what I thought possible.

Instinctively, I open my eyes—
—Mistake.

Light explodes.

Blinding. Consuming. A searing brilliance so fierce it tears at the edges of my vision. I try to shield my face, but there's no escaping it—the light is everywhere, inside me, around me, through me. Panic sparks in my chest, but before I can react, it tugs harder.

A weightless sensation engulfs me—like falling, like flying—my awareness slipping from the world I know. Air rushes past, or maybe it's time itself unraveling around me. My heartbeat pounds once—twice—then...

Darkness.

And then—

A voice.

"Aveline..."

Soft. Echoing. Ancient beyond comprehension. It isn't just heard—it's felt, reverberating through bone and breath.

I try to speak, but exhaustion slams into me like a crashing wave, stealing the air from my lungs. My body—or whatever this is—collapses into the void. Blackness swallows me whole.

I awaken—not with a gasp, but with a slow, weighted inhale—as if I've surfaced from an ocean deeper than any sea I've known.

Around me stretches a vast expanse of nothingness—yet it's not empty. The darkness here breathes, swirling with faint threads of shimmering light, like constellations spinning in slow, graceful dances. Above—if above even exists—ribbons of color twist through the void: indigo, silver, deep violet. It's beautiful. Terrifying.

I rise—or think I do—gravity meaningless in this place. My hand reaches out, fingers brushing a drifting strand of light. It sings beneath my touch—soft, melodic. Alive.

Then—footsteps.

I turn.

There, emerging from the shifting void, stands a figure cloaked in flowing robes woven from starlight and shadow. Their face... familiar, yet unplaceable. Eyes like molten silver regard me with warmth and an ageless weight.

"You've come," the figure says. "At last."

My throat feels tight. "Who... are you?"

A faint smile. "I am Caelia, once Keeper of the Breath, Guardian of the Veil." She pauses, voice softening. "Your ancestor."

Ancestor. The word reverberates through me, unlocking a thousand questions at once.

Caelia's gaze sharpens as if reading my thoughts. "You wonder why you were called. Why you hold the spark that others cannot grasp." Her hand gestures to the swirling lights. "For centuries, your bloodline has carried the power of Aether."