A massive etched arch loomed above the hallway ahead:
[INNER CORE LABS – ACCESS GRANTED TO RUNE PATH PRACTITIONERS]
Yumei's ID pinged again. The door unfolded rather than slid—panels rotating along invisible axes carved with micro-runes that shimmered in response to her elemental qi signature.
The room inside was a hybrid of ancient and modern—polished black stone floors, floating rune-cubes circling softly lit obsidian platforms, and high-resolution holographic scanners mounted above drafting tables. At least thirty students had already arrived, though a few straggled in behind her.
Fan Yumei quietly made her way to an empty seat near the front, her beasts padding silently behind her. Lufei and Maxius settled at the back of the room, quiet and watchful. She nodded to the teacher already present—a tall woman with silver hair braided down one side, wearing Federation training uniforms reinforced with qi-thread filigree. Four rune seals pulsed in the air behind her like silent familiars. She was beautiful in a sharp, unreadable way—part priestess, part scientist.
The woman glanced up from her glowing tablet. "Fan Yumei. Late enrollment. But you've made it to the Rune Path. Good."
Yumei bowed. "Yes, Instructor."
"Take the first platform."
Yumei rose and approached the slab. A rune-glass drafting table activated beneath her hand, responding to her elemental qi. Lines traced themselves faintly—basic circuits waiting to be refined.
"Most students draw runes," Xin said, now pacing slowly across the room. "Few understand them. Fewer still command them."
Her voice echoed, calm and analytical.
"Runes are not simply symbols. They are vessels of intention—living circuits that respond to memory, emotion, and spiritual will. You must wield all three to command your array."
As she spoke, she lifted her hand and traced a rune mid-air. Her elemental qi flared faintly—cool, blue, and sharply defined. The rune shimmered into being, hovering above her palm, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
"This—" she said, "—is a basic elemental rune. Not drawn with ink. But with elemental qi. Watch closely."
She split her qi stream with elegant precision. The rune shifted from blue to a gentle red. Heat rippled faintly through the air.
"You must understand the nature of your elemental qi. Its rhythm, its origin, its intent. Your qi is not just a power source—it is a thread connected to your nature. Without understanding that nature, your runes will fail. Not because the strokes are wrong—but because the resonance is hollow."
She moved her other hand, forming a stabilizing array around the rune. It expanded—projecting a soft ripple of energy that caused a few students in the front row to lean back instinctively.
"This rune reacts to more than power. It listens to your state of mind. Your beliefs. Your natural alignment. Elemental qi is deeply tied to your beast bond, your awakening, and your internal harmony. Not all elements are compatible with all hearts."
The rune dimmed, collapsed, and vanished into vapor.
Xin turned back to the class. "That is what we will learn this term—not just how to draw, but how to resonate."
She paused near Yumei, noticing her beasts' qi resonance.
"Emerald Spirit Deer. Excellent grounding. Healing affinity. Good regulator."
Her eyes slid to Maxius. She stilled. "Phantom Eagle…"
A beat passed.
"That's an assassin-bloodline trait beast," she murmured, more to herself. "Very hard to control. High-tempered. Very high intelligence."
She narrowed her eyes. "They call his kind The Eagle Who Cries Wolf. In ancient doctrine, their cries were used to lure enemies out from concealment."
Yumei nodded. "Yes. He's very fast, especially with aerial momentum. One of his wings is invisible to the naked eye."
"I've only read about Phantom Eagles in old core-scriptorium records," Xin admitted. "Precision killers. Excellent elemental qi control. The kind of beast that doesn't act without intent."
She glanced at the class. "Let this be a reminder."
Instructor Xin turned to the wider room, voice rising ever so slightly.
"Controlling your beast's elemental qi is not optional. It is the foundation of all mastery. Whether you are a Rune Master, a Tamer, or a Combatant—if you cannot resonate with your beast, you will fall behind."
She gestured toward the back. "That is an assassin-type. But he is sitting quietly. Watching. That tells me Fan Yumei trains with discipline. And that she listens to her beasts."
She swept her gaze across the class.
"Your beast is not your pet. It is your partner. You will grow stronger together—or you will fail together."
A hush fell over the classroom.
Finally, Instructor Xin returned her attention to Yumei.
"We will begin with dual-channel resonance alignment. One hand—your rune intent. The other—your beast's supporting elemental qi. Synchronize both. Control the flow. Do not let the rune control you."
"Begin."
Yumei placed her left palm to the slab and let her elemental qi thread outward—one toward Maxius, one toward Lufei, a third remaining within her core. She inhaled deeply, syncing her rhythm.
Breathe in.
Her inner space shimmered as her bond linked in triad—stabilized, balanced.
The rune template flickered.
She whispered to herself: "Core circuit. Three-point triad. Centerline pivot. Feed steady—Maxius, hold frequency. Lufei, ground it."
The rune beneath her fingers responded not to her drawing, but to her thoughts. Symbols grew rather than formed, shaped by internal command—moving calligraphy, stabilized into a glowing containment seal.
It wasn't explosive. Nor defensive.
Something restorative.
Instructor Xin's voice softened. "Interesting."
Yumei wasn't done. She added a small spiral on the outer ring—a qi reservoir converging point. Her own design, unlisted in textbooks. It pulled excess qi into itself, recycling it to stabilize the entire array.
The slab pulsed golden.
Lufei flicked her tail once, satisfied. Maxius let his wing flick open just slightly—then stilled again.
"You've done this before," Xin observed.
"My father's a Rune Master," Yumei said quietly. "He was injured during a beast raid a few weeks ago… I missed a lot of school."
Xin stilled. "There was a beast raid?" she asked.
Yumei nodded. "Yes, Instructor. He lost his leg and was blinded in one eye while defending the village. His beast was badly injured too. We had a healer… but there were too many wounded. Too few hands. We'd already lost a lot of people."
Some of the students around her had gone still.
"I awakened a week later," Yumei added. "While helping manage recovery. I was… already studying. Practicing on discarded scrolls and failed scrolls. Drawing in the air."
Xin's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Where did you study?"
"I was given some older texts. Books and journals. Some annotated notes too. I used my qi to draw in the air—at first it was hard, but the more I practiced, the more the air felt… fluid. The runes responded better when I focused not on precision, but on intent."
She tapped her datapad, opening her hand-written notes and diagrams—marked with arrays and corrections in red ink.
Xin stepped closer to inspect. Her brows lifted slightly.
"These… you made these trial revisions yourself?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I realized some arrays don't fail from poor structure, but from poor emotional matching. A defense rune won't hold if the user's qi is unstable. Same with healing runes—they collapse if there's no compassion in the core."
Students around her leaned in.
"What about attack runes?" one girl asked.
Yumei replied calmly, "Those respond to pressure and clarity. Intent must be sharp and clean. Like a blade."
Another boy raised his hand. "How do you anchor them without backlash?"
She drew in the air slowly—a basic flame rune surrounded by a stabilizing perimeter. "Like this. See the break line? That's a dispersal curve. If the qi surges too high, it cycles outward instead of exploding."
Even Instructor Xin paused. "That's not in the beginner texts."
Yumei nodded. "It wasn't. I combined techniques from three scrolls. I used to draw over broken scrolls to see where the lines buckled."
More students began taking notes.
"You used mental power," Xin said, sounding more curious now than critical.
"Yes. My father taught me that to defend against spiritual attacks—or soul invasions—you need a strong merge of spirit, soul, and mind. When those three align, your mental defenses sharpen. You can anchor stronger constructs. And protect yourself."
She added, "It also helps that I have high soul power and strength. It gives me better elemental qi control, and more stamina when sustaining complex runes. I can hold stronger patterns without backlash, and the connection to my beasts is more responsive. It's easier to hear them clearly—even if they don't speak aloud."
Someone at the back whispered, "You can hear your beasts?"
"I can feel them," Yumei said softly. "And sometimes… they answer."
Silence.
Then murmurs. Someone said, "That actually makes sense…"
Another, "I didn't think of soul defenses…"
More hands raised.
One boy near the front asked, "What else did your father teach you?"
Yumei considered. "That your core isn't just a vessel. You have to clean it, stabilize it, and build up your body structure around it. Especially in the early stages of cultivation. If you're filled with impurities and rush ahead without preparing your foundation, it'll be harder to sense your path—or your beast path. And harder to resonate properly."
She added, "I tried to take time to cultivate my soul and mental power too. They're harder to train, but they're just as important. Your soul senses can be dulled if your body's unstable. It makes controlling qi much harder later on."
Instructor Xin's head tilted slightly, and then she nodded slowly. "Those are old military techniques," she said quietly. "Very few students today even know of them. They don't get taught often anymore."
She looked at Yumei for a moment longer.
"Did your parents serve?"
Yumei looked up and nodded. "Yes, Instructor. Both my mother and father served in the last war."
Instructor Xin was silent.
Then she bowed her head slightly. "On behalf of everyone in this room—thank you. For their service."
Her eyes held a flash of heavy sorrow before she looked away and continued.
Soon, hands were raising again. Not for Instructor Xin.
But for Fan Yumei.
"What did you use for your first root rune?"
"Did you say you feel when a rune's going to collapse?"
"Can you show how you balanced the healing circuit again?"
Yumei answered them all, calm and clear, showing her diagrams, explaining her logic.
By the end of class, Instructor Xin was quietly taking her own notes on a few arrays Yumei had demonstrated. When the bell chimed, she passed Yumei a marked datapad.
"Apply for independent research access. You'll need the lab. I'll sponsor it."
Yumei bowed again. "Thank you, Instructor."
She left the Rune Master faculty the same way she entered—measured steps, shoulders squared, beasts quietly rising to join her from the back.
There was no fanfare. Just quiet progress.
One class down.
And many more ahead.