The sect buzzed with noise as senior members hurried about, their movements sharp and purposeful. Kale watched from a distance, leaning against the rough bark of a gnarled tree. It seemed like preparations for the Mist Festival were underway once again. Every year, sect members—young initiates and seasoned disciples alike—would leave the safety of the compound to venture into the surrounding mountains and forests. Their mission? To hunt beasts, gather rare materials, and uncover treasures hidden in the wilds. Whoever returned with the rarest find earned access to the sect's fabled treasure vault—a prize coveted by all.
Kale had never joined. He simply observed, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his patched robe. Watching others laugh and strategize together filled him with envy. Even if someone failed to win the grand prize, they still kept whatever materials or insights they'd gathered during the festival. For those blessed with access to the Ocean of Knowledge, it was an opportunity to grow stronger, to prove themselves worthy. But for Kale? It was just another reminder of how far behind he'd always been.
He wandered up one of the winding paths that led deeper into the sect grounds, where some disciples practiced sword techniques while others refined their equipment. The rhythmic clang of steel echoed through the air, mingling with the excited chatter of participants eager to test their skills. Kale wasn't here for any of that. His thrill came not from swords or tools but from something entirely different. Now that he could finally reach the Ocean of Knowledge, he intended to make use of the quiet time ahead—the senior disciples would be gone for days, leaving him free to experiment without interference.
But fate had other plans. As Kale rounded a corner near the training grounds, he collided with a group of senior disciples. One face stood out immediately: Fenric, the same bully who had tormented him for years. Fenric smirked, his tone dripping with mockery. "What's this? Are you here to join the fun, Empty Vessel?"
The two disciples flanking Fenric burst into laughter, their amusement cutting like knives. Kale clenched his fists but forced himself to remain calm. Ignoring them, he tried to step past, only for Fenric to grab him roughly by the shoulder.
"What?" Fenric sneered, tightening his grip. "Don't ignore me."
"I'm sorry," Kale muttered, avoiding eye contact. "I've got things to do. Laundry to wash or something."
Fenric released him with a derisive snort, shoving him backward. "Alright, kid. Go fulfill your life's purpose." The trio roared with laughter as they walked away, leaving Kale standing alone, his jaw tight with suppressed anger.
As he continued walking, Kale spat onto the ground, muttering under his breath. "Damned seniors. Just wait until I glean insights into magic. Then we'll see who's laughing."
By midday, the atmosphere within the sect reached a fever pitch. Sect members gathered in the central courtyard, cheering loudly for their idols—the strongest seniors who would lead teams into the wilderness. Cheers erupted as names were called out, banners raised high above the crowd. Participants began lining up to sign in for the festival, their faces alight with excitement. The line stretched long, winding through the courtyard like a serpent basking in the sun.
Kale lingered at the edge of the gathering, watching silently as the sun climbed higher into the sky. By the time the last few stragglers approached the registration table, the receptionist—a bored-looking elder disciple—was barely paying attention. That changed when Kale stepped forward.
The receptionist blinked, then let out a harsh laugh. "No way. This brat thinks he's participating?"
Kale didn't hesitate. Without a word, he grabbed the quill and scrawled his name onto the participation sheet in jagged, uneven strokes. The receptionist stared at him incredulously, but Kale ignored the look, turning on his heel and walking away. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and determination coursing through him.
Today marked the beginning of something new—for better or worse, he didn't know. But one thing was certain: Kale was done being invisible.