The morning sun pierced through the ragged curtains, casting golden beams directly onto Tang Shen’s face. He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.

  Grumbling, Shen rolled over to the other side of the bed.

  A sharp voice rang from outside the hut.

  “Shen! Wake up! How long are you planning to sleep? The Spirit Root Test is today!”

  Outside the small, crude stone hut stood a young girl no older than ten. Her long, silky silver hair shimmered in the early light, and her striking grey eyes sparkled with urgency. Pale-skinned and graceful, she looked completely out of place in their dusty desert village—yet she belonged more than anyone.

  She was pounding on the door like her life depended on it.

  A moment later, it creaked open.

  A boy, slightly taller than the girl, stepped out, yawning and scratching his messy black hair.

  “Lan Yue, can’t you see the sun’s still rising? Even the roosters haven’t made a sound yet. We’ve got plenty of time before the test. Why rush now when I could be getting my beauty sleep?”

  Lan Yue gave him a flat stare. “Tang Shen, you promised we’d go together this morning.”

  “That doesn’t sound like me.”

  “It was you. Exactly you. Word for word.”

  Shen sighed in defeat. “Fine, fine. Give me a moment to get ready. Wait out here.”

  Before she could respond, he closed the door.

  Inside, he quickly washed his face and changed into a clean tunic and long robe. His reflection in a dull, cracked, bronze mirror showed a boy who looked a little too tired to be excited for one of the biggest days of his life.

  When he stepped outside again, he looked neat and dignified, like a young scholar ready for a ceremony.

  Lan Yue turned around just in time to grab his wrist. “Finally!”

  “Whoa—wait—hey!”

  She dragged him off toward the village square, forcing him to jog just to keep up. He stumbled over his robes, barely managing to kick the door closed behind him.

  “Cool your jets, girl,” he muttered. “It’s not like we’re gonna be late.”

  Lan Yue slowed, then glanced over her shoulder with a teasing grin. “What if I told you the Chief said the first person to arrive gets a head start on the test?”

  Shen narrowed his eyes. You made that up.

  “Did I?” she said, voice light with mischief.

  Is this what having an older sister is like? Because I feel very bullied.

  “You should feel bullied. You’re the one who slept in.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  They laughed, and for a brief moment, the tension of the day melted.

  As they neared the square, Shen’s smile faded.

  Banners were being strung between rooftops. Golden streamers danced in the breeze. Incense smoke curled from bronze holders at the square’s corners, adding a sweet, woody fragrance to the air. Villagers hurried about, placing fruits, paper charms, and ceremonial fans along huge wooden tables.

  Children squealed as they chased each other under fluttering ribbons. Adults barked orders, scolded lazy helpers, and shared warm, excited laughter.

  And through it all… Shen felt strangely distant.

  The Spirit Root Festival was a celebration of family. Parents brought their children. Elders blessed them. Siblings cheered them on.

  But Shen had no one.

  He had no meaning, no heirloom, no memory of anyone holding him as a child. Just the word of the village elders, who said they found him outside the walls, crying in the sand.

  “Where is my family?” he whispered under his breath.

  “Huh?” Lan Yue looked back at him.

  “Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “Just wondering what kind of spirit roots I’ll have.”

  She didn’t press him, but she walked a little closer.

  “C’mon,” she said. “Help out a little. Maybe we can finish the setup faster and get tested sooner.”

  “Slave labor on my big day. Truly, the heavens are cruel.”

  Despite the complaining, Shen followed her toward a group of villagers hanging lanterns.

  A few hours later…

  “Welcome, everyone, to the 10th Annual Spirit Root Festival!”

  The voice echoed across the square, loud and full of pride. A crowd had gathered under the shade of cloth canopies stretched between poles. The scent of roasted meat, incense, and sun-warmed sand filled the air. Laughter and murmurs buzzed like a chorus of cicadas.

  Shen stood near the front, shoulder to shoulder with four other children around his age. His robe clung a little from sweat, but he stood tall and quiet, eyes locked on the stage.

  Chief Lan stepped forward. His thick black beard and long crimson robes gave him an imposing appearance, but his eyes were kind.

  “Though you all know the procedure,” the Chief said, “we honor tradition by repeating it.”

  The crowd hushed.

  “This year, we celebrate five new initiates. To be tested, you must be at least ten years old. When your name is called, you’ll step forward and place your hand on the Spirit Root Orb to reveal your elemental affinity. Afterwards, the stars will ignite to further pinpoint your potential. Then, a droplet of your blood will be taken by the blood-testing bird. Lastly, you’ll sit in the formation circle and meditate using the sutra on the stone tablet to determine if you possess a special body constitution.”

  The five children, including Shen and Lan Yue, clenched their fists as one.

  Shen took a shaky breath.

  Lan Yue glanced sideways and saw the tension in his face. She knew him too well—behind the lazy grin and sarcastic remarks, he wanted this more than anything. Maybe he even needed it.

  She bumped her shoulder against his.

  He looked over, startled, just in time to see her stick her tongue out at him.

  He chuckled under his breath, tension easing.

  “What a brat”, he whispered.

  Chief Lan raised his hands. “LET THE CELEBRATION BEGIN!”

  Cheers exploded from the crowd.

  Streamers shot into the air, and drums began to beat. Colorful powder burst across the square as dancers spun in traditional robes. After the opening scenes, everything quieted down, the names were about to be called, and all eyes shifted toward the five children at the front, though Shen could feel a few extra stares lingering on him.

  “First up, Wang Lin!”

  A skinny, pale boy stepped forward. His pitch-black eyes and bowl-cut hair made him stand out even more, but what caught attention most was how white his skin was—strange for someone born and raised in the desert.

  He shuffled forward, fidgeting.

  “Wang Lin, you’re my son!” someone shouted from the crowd. “You’ll soar through the skies after today!” Laughter erupted.

  “Go Wang Lin!”

  “Don’t be scared, little Lin!”

  Wang Lin straightened, a bit of color returning to his cheeks. He approached Chief Lan and bowed low.

  “Hello, Chief Lan. I’m ready.”

  The Chief smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Good child. I know it’s nerve-wracking to go first. Stand proud. Make a name for yourself.”

  Wang Lin nodded and stepped toward the glowing Spirit Root Orb. The polished crystal shimmered with a low hum. The crowd hushed.

  He placed his hand on the surface.

  The orb lit up instantly, cycling through vibrant colors—red for fire, blue for water, green for wind, gold for earth. It spun faster and faster… then began to slow.

  Suddenly, the orb turned black.

  A stunned silence fell across the crowd.

  Shen’s eyes widened. Even Chief Lan took an uncertain step forward.

  The swirling black light inside the orb pulsed ominously. Then, one by one, bright white stars began to appear.

  One… two… three… four… five… six… six and a half.

  The record had been six stars for fire, five for wind, and five and a half for water.

  Wang Lin had just broken the village record—even if only by half a star. And with what looked like a new, unknown element as well.

  The entire village stood frozen, stunned by what had just begun.