In the world of Etheria, there existed something ancient and all-encompassing.
It wasn't called mana like in my past life.
Here, it was Ether.
Ether was not merely a tool for sorcery or a vessel of force. It was the very breath of the world. The soul of the sky. The pulse that echoed through nature, seeping into rivers, trees, stone, and air. Everything alive, from the smallest insect to the colossal wyrms of the mountains, carried Ether within them. It flowed like an invisible tide, pulsing gently around all living things.
This world was brimming with it.
In my previous world, mana coursed through the veins, manipulated through disciplined breathing techniques and mental formulas. When a person awakened, they formed a Core near the abdomen. That Core allowed them to store and regulate their mana for various spells. The heart, on the other hand, was where magic circles were formed—complex arrays that amplified power, acting as bridges between the caster and the spell.
But here… it was different.
I had come to understand that Etheria operated under an entirely distinct magical principle.
Magic circles did not exist.
At least not in any conventional sense.
Instead, magic was channeled purely through the Core once it formed within an awakened individual. There were no need for circles etched in thought or carved into skin. Ether did not respond to geometric shapes or ancient diagrams. It responded to intent. To resonance. To soul.
Perhaps the reason lay in Ether itself. Unlike mana, which could be controlled with rigid structures and symbolic languages, Ether was more instinctive. It behaved like an extension of one's self, a limb of the soul rather than a borrowed force.
I pondered silently, staring at the glimmering wisp of energy that floated in the air above Madam Lysra's outstretched hand.
What if I tried to form a circle?
Wouldn't that allow me to access magic from both the Core in my abdomen and the channels near the heart?
Could that potentially increase output, even merge principles of my old world with the flow of Etheria?
It was just a theory. One I dared not speak aloud.
Not yet.
Not until I could test it without raising suspicion.
My attention returned to Madam Lysra.
The lesson continued, the scent of lavender ink and parchment lingering in the stillness of the classroom. The afternoon light, softened by silk curtains the color of crushed moonlight, filtered gently across the room.
The floor beneath was carved from polished obsidian and lined with velvet rugs. Delicate, golden chandeliers overhead reflected like starlight against the ceiling, casting flickering shadows across the shelves that lined the walls—each one filled with ancient scrolls, thick grimoires, and carefully indexed tomes.
Even here, in what should have been a normal lesson for a six-year-old, there was an aura of nobility and pressure. Everything in the Morningstar household bled with power and presence.
Madam Lysra stood at the front, her posture graceful, with robes of twilight silk embroidered with glimmering runes that shimmered when the light caught them just right. She was patient and refined, with a demeanor that did not falter even in the presence of nobility. Her voice, calm and pleasant, held the precision of someone who had been teaching for decades.
"Resonance," she explained, her fingers brushing over the chalkboard with quiet confidence, "is the bond between your blood and the world's flow of energy. It determines not only your capacity for magic, but how magic listens to you."
I listened attentively, though my thoughts swirled beneath the surface. I already knew I was different. I could feel Ether—the source of all magic in this world. Not just faint traces either. I could feel the subtle pull of the energy in the air, curling against my skin like wind on water.
I raised my hand slowly. My small fingers didn't feel clumsy anymore. After weeks of adjusting, my body finally began responding with a little more ease.
"Teacher, does resonance connect us to Ether?"
She turned to face me, her expression warm. "Yes, young master. But more than that, resonance is the foundation of your magical self. The stronger your resonance, the more clearly you can feel the Ether, and the more obedient it becomes. Think of it like singing in harmony. The closer your voice is to the world's melody, the better the symphony."
So it was a connection, but not a bridge. More like a song we had to match.
"And does it also connect to our affinity with an element?" I asked.
Lysra's Almond eyes sparkled with approval. "Very astute. Yes. The element you're born with—be it fire, water, earth, air, or the more elusive ones like darkness and light—is heavily influenced by resonance. The higher your resonance, the more deeply you align with your affinity."
My thoughts churned. Then I asked carefully, "When do children awaken their resonance?"
She clasped her hands gently in front of her. "Typically, most noble children awaken their resonance around the age of ten. That is when the Ether recognizes them as capable vessels. At that point, they begin to form their core and gather Ether naturally within their bodies."
I blinked slowly.
Then what is wrong with me?
I could already feel Ether. I could already draw it—clumsily, yes, but clearly. It whispered to me like a scent on the wind.
"Teacher," I asked, pretending innocence, "Has anyone ever awakened before the age of ten?"
Madam Lysra smiled fondly. "That would be a miracle. There are no records of such a case, young master. Ether chooses when to acknowledge someone. And most of the time, even when acknowledged, one must have a stable resonance and a strong will to awaken. Many children from even noble houses fail to awaken at all."
She paused, stepping closer. "But I do believe you will be among the best. You are… exceptionally Intelligent. That is often a sign of greatness."
I nodded silently.
Exceptionally Intelligent.
That was one way to put it.
She stepped beside the large blackboard and with a flick of her finger, a glowing script appeared midair. "Since you are asking about elements, let me tell you something special. The Morningstar Family is not just known for their power and pride. Their elemental affinity is one of the rarest."
I leaned forward slightly.
"Darkness," she whispered. "They are bound to it by blood and soul. The Morningstars are wielders of shadow and silence. Their unique magic, the Umbraveil Arts, are among the most feared in the continent."
The word pulsed in my mind. Umbraveil.
The name fit the Morningstars perfectly. Graceful and terrifying. Like a blade cloaked in fog.
"Is that why they are called the Sovereigns of Dusk?" I asked.
"Yes. In the wars of the past, the Morningstars crushed armies not with fire, but with silence. Their shadows devoured battlefields. Their arts specialize in erasing presence, manipulating perception, and commanding fear. A single Morningstar in battle is said to feel like a hundred eyes watching from the dark."
I swallowed. The power was not just noble. It was oppressive. And I could feel it. Within myself.
Was I already changing? Or had I simply awakened a sleeping instinct?
She moved back toward her desk and offered a smile. "That will be all for today, young master. You may head to the library."
I stood, offering a polite nod. "Thank you, Madam Lysra."
The walk to the estate library was quiet. The hallway that led there was adorned with portraits of ancestors long passed—each one painted with eerie realism. Their crimson eyes followed me like silent judges. The architecture of the manor was sprawling and labyrinthine. Thick walls of black stone inlaid with silver veins. Every step echoed slightly beneath my polished shoes.
Two guards stood before the grand doors of the Morningstar Archive. They were clad in enchanted obsidian armor. One bore a massive spear tipped with dragon bone. The other had twin sabers strapped across his back.
They bowed as I approached.
"Young master," one of them said.
The doors creaked open.
The scent of leather, ink, and ancient paper filled my lungs instantly. The air was cold here. Still. Like time itself had chosen to slow.
The library stretched on in all directions. Dozens of levels, each ringed with spiraling staircases. Glowing orbs floated gently between shelves, casting an amber glow across the forest of knowledge. There were alcoves hidden in the walls, reading nooks furnished with velvet and shadow. Tomes older than kingdoms lined the shelves. Scrolls sealed with forgotten symbols. Books bound in beasts I did not recognize.
This was not a library. It was a temple.
And today, I would begin uncovering this world—layer by layer.
The world known as Etheria.
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A/N :- Hey guys 👋
Yeah… today's chapter was a bit of an info dump about Ether and Resonance 😅
I get it, not the most exciting stuff.but it's important groundwork so the story flows better later on.
The next few chapters might also focus on world lore and magical concepts
It's a slow start but trust me it'll be worth it once the pieces fall into place 🧩✨
Thank you so much for reading 🙏
If you're enjoying the story so far, don't forget to drop a Power Stone, leave a comment and a review, and add the novel to your library 📚❤️
Stick around, big things are coming 👀
— GLOOMRAY ⚫