Brenner and Caelumn waited in the vast throne room, the stone walls rising high above, their surfaces etched with spiraling glyphs that pulsed faintly in the dim light.
The floor was polished smooth, worn over centuries of footsteps, and in the center sat the great Spirit Stone, veined with pale inner light that seemed to breathe with the room itself.
At the far end, the throne loomed—a massive seat carved from a single block of dark stone, its back rising high, etched with ancient spirit symbols and reinforced with bands of driftwood darkened by ritual fire.
It radiated authority, a silent reminder that the one who sat there commanded not just respect, but the very air around them.
Brenner shifted his weight, unease pressing against his usual calm.
Caelumn eyes darted around, taking in the sheer scale, the muted light, the way the shadows clung to the pillars like careful attendants.
Then the doors at the far end creaked open.
The first step sent a ripple through the room—subtle at first, almost imperceptible, but it thickened the air, pushed against his chest like a physical weight.
Caelumn heart hammered.
He recognized the sensation instantly: this was no ordinary aura.
This was something far beyond the summoners he had witnessed in the village.
The chief entered, each step resonating like a drumbeat of power, the air around him warping slightly with the intensity of his presence.
The vice chief, Turak, followed closely at his side, moving silently, restrained.
His aura was controlled, almost hidden, but the chief… the chief radiated it freely, and it was overwhelming.
Caelumn mind raced.
I don't need anyone to tell me… this is the special grade Lila spoke of.
Brenner's hand tightened briefly on his staff, sweat beading on his brow.
Even he, a seasoned member of the tribe, felt the oppressive weight of the chief's presence pressing against him.
Caelumn chest felt tight, his legs slightly unsteady, and yet something inside him whispered to stay upright.
The chief reached the throne, his gaze sweeping the room as if appraising every stone, every breath, every heartbeat.
He sat deliberately, the throne creaking under the sheer weight of his presence.
Turak took his seat just beside him, calm, composed, like a shadow of authority tempered.
The air seemed to hum, thick and heavy, the room vibrating with unspoken power.
The boy could feel it pressing into him, a force that demanded attention and respect.
Brenner exhaled slowly, glancing at the boy. Both men were frozen, caught in the invisible gravity of the chief's aura.
Caelumn lips parted slightly. This… this is what Lila meant.
This is Special Grade.
The chief's eyes swept over them once more, and then he leaned back, seated fully, silent, letting the presence of his power fill the throne room like a living thing.
And for the first time since stepping into Hearthmere, Caelumn felt the true weight of what it meant to be in the presence of someone who could shape the world around them with nothing more than their spirit.