Oren, like all the candidates, fell silent beneath the words.
He did not like this... Oren hated that he felt like a child in this world, and now he had to learn something as abstract and obscure as enlightenment.
Oren abruptly twisted, facing the enterance doors, catching a moving figure in his peripheral vision.
It was a man, frozen in place.
An elder?
The man reminded Oren of winter, his jade eyes like the shadowed hues of forest trees. His pale skin and ice-white hair blanketed the woods.
This elder was later than I to this assembly.
A faint tension crept into his breath.
And yet Sable did not notice the unnease evident in Oren's expression.
The elder turned his head.
His gaze instantly met Oren's.
And for a moment, it felt as though nothing else existed in the academy hall.
Then the man smiled politely, but Oren had already turned around, focusing on Elder Idris.
"Did the esteemed outskirt clans you all live in teach you nothing? Did they not even tell you that to be truly enlightened is to sense the world's energy?
World energy? Oren mused.
Elder idris continued.
"No, no, no, this will not do. Because of their ignorance, precious time will be wasted in this lecture.
I will inform you on enlightenment another day. For now, though, that is only the result of the trial," Elder Idris said coldly.
"How to reach that result, though, that is a necessity at this stage. To put it simply, one week, that is all you have to prepare."
Walking back and forth across the front rows of students, he smiled faintly.
"The trial will decide whether we allow you to stay in the academy. But it will also decide if you can become Enlightened."
He looked at the candidates, then the several elders surrounding the room, then spoke.
"In this hall, there are only a handful of rising talents who will pass the trial with flying colours. In other words, prodigies.
But do not let that delude you, for you will only have seven days to succeed."
His voice travelled across the vast, stone slabbed room.
"When the trial starts, that is your timer. If you are even a minute late, you automatically fail."
Elder Idris froze abruptly in the middle of the central aisle.
"Elder Idris," a young girl's voice rang out. "What happens if we fail? If there is nothing to prepare for, how will we know what we are to face?"
She fell silent.
Elder Idris carried on sternly, answering the girl's question with a mask of indifference.
"You cannot prepare, because you cannot sharpen your mind like a blade. Because in the Trial of Longing, there is no correct way to prepare.
Unlike the previous Trial of Combat, where two candidates fought one another within the trial grounds, or when a candidate faced an unknown champion, this trial will be purely of mind, purely of self."
A quiet ripple passed through the hall.
No one dared interrupt.
Oren had so many questions, but did what say, he briefly wondered how the Trial had changed so significantly.
Perhaps he knew to little on the world to even judge the occurrences in it.
He sighed as elder idris walked with a dim smile.
"But remember this. The trial is equal. In the past, it was, at least. Whatever you face, you should be able to overcome it with as equal a chance of success as of failure."
Several students shifted in their seats. Equal did not mean merciful, failure was failure and who liked failing.
"In order to somewhat prepare for this major event, you must isolate yourselves.
Dive deep into meditation, concentration, and refinement. Feel your body and your senses, and finally prepare for after the trial.
When you succeed, when you beat the Trial of Longing and finally become able to feel the world's currents, its essence, with time you will understand."
A faint crease appeared between Oren's brows.
"Still, do not be mistaken."
The words drained any remaining hope out of the candidates. The hall felt heavier, as though the very air had thickened.
"The trial will be cruel. Unlike the Trial of Combat, this will not be a fight between two candidates or between one and a chosen champion.
Unlike the trials of rival district academies, this one is rare. You will face something neither flesh nor spirit."
Silence followed. Not even the faint scrape of fabric echoed now.
"In the Trial of Longing, you have no guide. Your mind and your resolve will be your only weapons. But beware. A weapon that turns on its wielder cuts deepest."
A few swallowed.
"You are children in this world. You have no voice and no power. I can only teach you so much. Strength is not one of those lessons, and that is precisely why you must succeed."
His gaze swept across the hall, slow and deliberate.
"For your other question, it is quite simple, actually. Losing in the Trial of Longing means death."
The word struck harder than any shout.
"If you fail the trial, what happens to you all will be out of our hands. That is why your success proves your innate talent.
His eyes darkned, staring at the rows of 'people' with a somber expression.
"If you fail," he said softly, "you will not see the light of the eighth day."
...
Days passed quietly after the Trial Assembly.
Before dismissing the candidates, the academy bestowed each of them with a small pouch containing the currency of Unison.
They called it Yie.
At first, Oren did not understand what he was holding. The object resembled a coin, yet its material was difficult to identify.
It was neither clearly metal nor stone, but something in between, cold, and strangely smooth to the touch.
One side bore the engraving of a half-circle. The other, a cross. Beneath the symbol, etched in precise lettering, were the words:
Ten Yie. Currency of the New Era.
The inscription raised more questions than it answered. For the rest of the day, Oren remained alone with his thoughts.
The looming reality of the Trial of Longing weighed heavily on him.
Death. Peace.
No, wait!
Not just death, but a state of peace, a peace he had spent an arduous stretch of time seeking, only to disrupt it with C04's healing.
And now, he was trapping himself in the same cycle, inflicting upon himself the same harm.
He did not even know anymore. Did he want peace?
And if he did, did he truly want it? He could no longer see it through the narrow lens he once trusted, the lens that had told him the only path to peace was through death, through the absence of consciousness, through the complete erasure of sentience.
The new information did not only affect him though but the countless other students in the assembly, who wished to become enlightened.
Because death was no longer an abstract concept whispered about in halls.
It had become a real possibility.
And now, for reasons he did not yet understand, he had been given money.
It was only the following morning that clarity came. The academy held what would be his first and only lesson before the trial.
The subject was one rarely taught within the Academy of Enlightenment, as most considered it common knowledge.
It was called Resource Theory.
The lesson existed less to educate and more to prepare, to remind the candidates what reality felt like beyond polished stone floors and structured schedules.
In the outskirts, education was a luxury few could afford. Mundane schools were small, tattered structures that barely qualified as institutions of learning.
Knowledge there was fragmented, inconsistent, and often outdated.
The academy, by contrast, was something else entirely, controlled, refined, and deliberate.
Many of the candidates had already glimpsed the promise of success long before arriving, some through distant relatives, others through powerful clans into which they were born.
For those born into clans, advancement was almost expected. For the rest, it had always been a distant rumour, a half-believed story told to make harsh lives more bearable.
During the lesson, Oren finally learned what Yie truly was. It was the currency of the Unison Region, forged directly from materials harvested from the Unison Mountains.
There were three recognised grades. Mineral Yie was the lowest form, shaped from the most common yields of the mountains.
Mountain Yie was the standard currency, refined from stronger and more stable materials.
Golden Yie was the rarest and most prestigious grade, extracted from scarce deposits found deep within the range.
Yet the Unison Mountains no longer sustained civilisation. Whatever settlements once stood within that vast range had fallen generations ago.
From afar, one could still glimpse the remnants of villages and fractured cities, but there were no trade routes threading through the peaks.
No markets, no caravans. There was nothing to barter with. No population left to sustain commerce.
That was why no other land could place a value on its name too.
Because of this, Yie was not earned through trade. It was extracted. And it remained specific to Unison City, in the mountains were only the Enlightened were permitted to enter.
The volatile zones within the range were unstable and lethal to ordinary citizens, a place that had not been touched in centuries.
As the sunwane approached, the world seemed to dull, and with it, the resolve of many candidates. Few were truly willing to face death.
And for some reason… the academy began to speak more of the Enlightened.