The wind howled through the mountains, sweeping through the jagged cliffs and curling around the ancient stone formations that had withstood the passage of centuries. The sky was painted in deep shades of twilight, the sun barely clinging to the horizon, casting a golden glow over the rugged terrain.
And in the midst of it all—
Aeliana sat atop a small, weathered boulder, perfectly still, her legs crossed, her hands resting against her lap. Her amber eyes were shut, her breathing slow, measured.
But she wasn't just meditating.
She was accumulating.
The mana around her was thick, heavy—alive. It pulsed in the air, invisible threads of energy weaving through her veins, coiling deep within her core. She could feel it—like a slow, powerful current, drawn in with every breath, refined with every exhale. It settled inside her, layered upon itself, growing denser, more controlled.
The process was delicate.
