Eli stood in a landscape bathed in twilight, the sky a shifting gradient of deep indigos and molten golds. The ground beneath his bare feet was cool, smooth stone, stretching endlessly in all directions, broken only by the jagged silhouette of a single monolith at the horizon.

  A figure emerged from the shadows of the monolith, cloaked in light that seemed to flicker and shift like the edges of a dream. The figure’s voice, deep and resonant, echoed as though carried by the stone itself. “You seek to create, yet you do not listen.”

  Eli’s heart pounded, his chest tight with longing. “I want to learn. To shape the world, like you.”

  The figure gestured to the monolith. “Speak to it, then. It knows the shape it can take. It has waited for someone to ask.”

  Eli approached, hesitant. The surface of the stone was cold and unyielding under his palm. He closed his eyes, searching for the words that felt lodged in his chest. “I don’t know how.”

  The figure’s voice softened, patient yet unrelenting. “It is not about knowing. It is about asking. The language is within you, as it is within all things. Let it flow, and the stone will hear.”

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  Eli inhaled, the air thick with an ancient hum that seemed to resonate from the ground itself. Words spilled from his lips, unbidden and unfamiliar, their rhythm as natural as breathing. “Arkan vuliset, osh keran… split and reveal what you hold.”

  The world seemed to pause. Then, with a deep groan, the monolith trembled. A fine crack appeared, running jagged down its center. Light poured from within—soft, warm, and pulsating, like the heartbeat of the earth. As the crack widened, fragments fell away, revealing intricate carvings within—forms of unimaginable beauty, shapes that seemed to breathe wisdom and creativity into the air.

  Eli staggered back, awe-struck. The light filled him, coursing through his veins with a clarity he had never known. He felt, for the briefest moment, infinite possibilities within his grasp.

  But just as quickly, the stone stilled, the light dimming. The fragments returned to their original state, and the crack sealed itself, leaving the monolith whole once more.

  The figure’s voice echoed softly. “Creation requires patience. The world must trust you as you trust it. You have only begun to ask.”

  Eli turned to respond, but the figure was gone, their presence replaced by a profound stillness. The landscape began to blur, fading like the edges of a dream.

  When he woke, his cheeks were damp, his chest heaving with unspent emotion. The memory of the light lingered in his mind, a whisper of what could be. Eli’s hand clenched into a fist, a quiet vow forming on his lips.

  “One day I will be a Jinn, I just know it.”