He's taller than the other children his age, they don't even come up to his shoulders. He learns how to talk just like the adults before they do, too. That just means that when they play in the forest he gets to be the Wei Patriarch. Today Wei Mon Teris is in charge of the children pretending to be fighters from the Kazan clan. They're the bad guys. Everyone knows the Kazan clan are dumb and fall for all of the Wei clan's tricks. They're the best clan to pretend to fight- their Forgers make rocks out of Madra to throw in battle, and while none of the children can use any madra techniques yet they can find pebbles to throw easily enough. When one of the thrown pebbles hits him and he says it doesn't count because that was just his illusion, the other children nod sagely instead of disputing it. Everyone knows the Patriarch can make perfect copies of himself. He finally "loses" when a group of three other children, led by Teris, manage to work together to force him to the ground under their weight. That time he doesn't say it was an illusion, it would be dishonourable. They beat him fair and square. And besides, he can't always be an illusion or it's no fun.

He does gloat from underneath them all that while they may think they've defeated the Wei clan this day, he was actually just a distraction! The rest of the clan snuck into their lands and stole all their natural treasures! That's how it's supposed to end, though. The Wei clan is always victorious in the end, even if it's by a trick. They teach their clan words young in the Wei clan, and Lindon and his friends have learned them well.

Honour by any means.

Lindon drinks up everything his mother teaches him like a sponge. His father too, but his father has more to tell him about his own past. He tells him stories more than he tells him facts. That's just fine as far as Lindon is concerned. His father's participation in the tournament in the last Seven Year Festival left him with a limp and a scar on his lip, but Lindon wasn't more than a year old- he can't remember when it happened. His father has just always looked like this, as far as he's concerned. When his father tells him that he, Wei Shi Jaran, was the most promising young Iron in the valley, that if his leg still worked right he would surely win the Iron division tournament in the next festival, Lindon believes him wholeheartedly and brags to the other children about it. Why shouldn't he?

His mother teaches him more, though. Aura, a substance that's everywhere like air, but sometimes there's more of it in an area- sometimes it's denser. And around things, it changes to be like that thing. Aura around fire it becomes fire aura, like how air around fire becomes hotter. And then she explains madra, a bit like aura but something a person keeps inside themselves in their core. She pokes him in his belly, just above his bellybutton, and while he giggles tells him that she just poked his core. That's why his tummy is ticklish, you see. Lindon wonders if that means he also has extra cores in his armpits and on the bottoms of his feet. Maybe he has lots and lots of cores, and so he's going to be the best sacred artist ever!

Unfortunately, it turns out it's only the tummy that's ticklish because you have your core there.

Turning the aura of the world around you into madra to store inside your body is something he'll be taught after his test, apparently. Lindon asks if he has madra and his mother says yes. He asks how, if he doesn't know how to take it in from the air yet. She smiles proudly at him, and then explains that humans make their own madra too, out of the aura inside them. He asks what type of madra it is, and she says pure. That makes it sound special to young Lindon, but the reality is less impressive- you can't really do anything with it. No illusions, no beams of fire, no armour wrapped around you.

Well, there go his dreams of being the most powerful five year old in history due to his mastery of pure madra. He guesses he will have to wait until after the test.

His mother has one thing she can teach him, though, even if it is a bit early. And so Lindon learns how to cycle his madra, swirling it around in his core, making it flow out, through his torso and limbs, and then back in. It doesn't actually do much of anything, as far as he can tell. Apparently it will prepare him for eventually taking in aura from around him later, years from now. And it should slowly strengthen his spirit. Like how he got better at running from chasing the other children around in the forest. 

Feeling power flow through his core and out into his body is the coolest thing he's ever felt.

It turns out that if he cycles his madra while he's playing it takes him way longer to get tired. The games with the other children start to get lopsided enough that half the time he's the only one on his team. The big bad villain the warriors of the Wei clan team up against to defeat.

When his father tells him stories about his fights in old tournaments and daring raids he went on back when his leg worked right, Lindon asks questions. 

Copper. Iron. Jade. Gold. Words he's heard but doesn't understand all that well. He knows Irons are strong. He knows Gold is the best. But not the whole shape of it. His father explains it better, his deep voice rumbling through their house. It's a ladder you climb up. First, before you're even Copper, you're in the Foundation stage. His father ruffles his hair and says that's where Lindon is. Then Copper, and that's when you can learn how to take in vital aura and turn it to madra. When hit Copper you can see aura and madra, and your spirit opens to the vital aura of the world. His father isn't a man inclined to poetry, but when he describes his ascension to Copper, what it felt like to look out at the world and see streams of blue in the sky, an aura of red around flame, the whole world lit up in a hundred new colours, Lindon feels like he can see it himself.

Then, Iron reforges your body, makes it into something better. Something more. You're not a real sacred artist until you're Iron. Lindon's father raps his cane against his own knuckles hard enough that Lindon is pretty sure he just heard their neighbour startle and say one of those words he's forbidden from repeating. That he's an Iron is why he can do that without hurting himself.

Lindon thought that was just because he was an adult. Apparently no, not all adults are invincible. Just the ones like his dad. And his mom.

He knew his parents were the coolest.

Then, above Iron, Jade. When you hit Jade, you can feel aura and madra, not just see it. Feel it through stone and rock, feel it on the other side of a hill if there's enough of it. Like, say, if a war party from the Li clan is marching their way. If someone is trying to get the drop on you around a corner, you can get the drop on them instead. Your body is reforged again at Jade, and your spirit is strong enough you can do all sorts of incredible things. The stories Lindon's heard about the Patriarch's perfect clones? That's because he's a Jade. The flashes of light he saw last year? The ones on the side of Mount Samara that he could see from here? Jades from the Heaven's Glory school engaged in battle.

Foundation. Copper. Iron. Jade. Then Gold, theoretically, not that anyone has managed that in a thousand years.

Lindon decides right then and there. He's going to be the next Gold. His father ruffles his hair and grins at him and says, "That's the spirit!"

Lindon knows what his future is going to be shaped like. Oh, not perfectly. He might not actually end up a Forger like his mom. He might not be able to be a Soulsmith like he wants. But he learns everything so quickly. His parents tell him so. He's bigger and stronger than the other kids. If he's an Enforcer, a sacred artist whose soul is naturally inclined to reinforcing his own body, he'll be the very best of them, and if he isn't his natural strength should be enough to make it so he can almost keep up with one. Even if he can't be a Soulsmith, anyone can do scripting. 

His father was a great warrior. His mother is the clan's best Soulsmith. He hears what they say at night, when they think he's asleep. Prodigy. The First Elder asks about him, they say. Apparently teaching him that cycling technique wasn't normal, apparently some people say it's bad luck, but the First Elder isn't mad because he knows Lindon is special. 

Lindon knows what his future will be shaped like. He's the biggest, smartest child his age. He's strong and clever. He has a head start. He's going to be just like his dad and hit Iron by the time he's sixteen. He's going to be just like his mom and contribute to the clan outside of battle too. If it isn't Soulsmithing it will be be through scripting.

He asks his mother to tell him about the Spiritual Origin Test again. Maybe if he knows exactly how it's going to go, he'll stop being so nervous?

A few weeks later, as he waits in line, he discovers it has helped.

This isn't a test he can fail. It isn't. 

There's a bowl of something that looks like water up ahead. It's actually pure madra. Enough of it to fill a bowl. He's pretty sure he doesn't have enough in his core for a thimble. 

One by one, the children here will step forward and dip their hands into the madra. Then, it will do one of exactly four things. Freeze for Forgers, who form constructs out of their madra and can use their abilities to make weapons and armour for the clan. Move away from their hands for Strikers, who launch their madra at their enemies for a distance, flinging balls of foxfire or beams of light. Cling to their hands for Enforcers, who will wrap themselves in their madra, reinforcing their bodies. Rise up out of the bowl for Rulers, who use their madra to affect the aura around them, the slowest but most powerful of techniques.

His older sister Kelsa is a Ruler. It wouldn't be so bad to be a Ruler too.

But he wants to be a Forger. He wants to make illusions like his mother can. He wants to be a Soulsmith.

He prays to the heavens again and again as he waits in line. As he watches child after child place their hands in the bowl and get a badge to wear around their neck. Each is made of wood, for the Foundation stage. Into each is inscribed a symbol. Scepters for Rulers. Arrows for Strikers. Shields for Enforcers. And for Forgers? A hammer. 

He wants that hammer. 

Finally, it's his turn. Freeze. Freeze. Please.

In go his hands. The madra is cold. It must already be freezing!

He waits for it to finish freezing.

Then waits longer.

Longer.

Longer.

Nothing happens.

Nothing.

This isn't supposed to be one of the options.

The First Elder, standing beside the bowl, grabs Lindon's hands roughly. He dips Lindon's hands in the madra within again and again.

No matter how may times he tries, nothing changes.

Nothing happens. 

Again and again, his hands are pulled from the madra, so similar to water but not quite. It doesn't cling to his skin as water would.

It's strange what he notices. He doesn't remember the look on the First Elder's face, when he first noticed something was strange. He barely notices the other children behind him start to whisper. But somehow he notices the way his hand is dry when it's pulled from the bowl.

He feels numb.

He pulls himself out of it, as best he can. He's six now, he should be better at- whatever this is.

Maybe he has to do something?

He looks up and around and notices his mother whispering to an elder off to the side, a tense, frightened look on her face.

Oh. That's probably not good.

Okay, he doesn't know what this means, but he knows the First Elder likes him. Maybe if he just acts like everything is normal, things will just- move forward anyway?

"Which badge do I get, Honoured Elder?" he asks, using all the politeness he failed to use years ago, his gaze conspicuously pointed at the hammer badges. Maybe, if what's going on is strange, they can all just- go with the one that's the obvious right answer? His mother is a Forger, he wants to be a Forger, the bowl usually tells you what a person should do and this time it hasn't, so going with the obvious correct answer is what they should do instead, right?

"There is no affinity to your spirit. You are empty. Unsouled. You do not deserve these badges, Shi Lindon."

Oh. No clan name. That's how the Elders talk to you when they're very angry. Being Unsouled sounds. It sounds. Very bad. The First Elder sounds angry. He's misstepped, somehow. He supposes the other children didn't talk. That must be it. But- no, he can't leave without a badge. He can't make anything worse. That's already the worst thing that could happen. 

Sometimes, when adults are angry, it's not really at you. He doesn't think this is going to be one of those times when ignoring an adult's anger makes it go away. So he lets himself look as sad as he feels and asks, "Is it something I did?"

"No. It is something you are," the First Elder says, a hint of pity arriving on his face. Oh, okay, that means- he's not angry at him, then? If it's not his fault he can't be. He's the First Elder, the wise old almost-grandpa who said he was going to contribute lots to the clan. He's not going to be angry if Lindon didn't even do it. It's going to be okay, then.

Hopefully.

"Do I just- pick one, then?" He asks it like a question. It's obvious that's what they should do, now. If he's- equally strong at all things, somehow, if his soul doesn't lean any direction, then he should just pick. But if you tell adults something they're struggling with is obvious they get very angry, so it has to be a question.

"We will have a badge made for you. To show the world what you are," the First Elder says with a tight expression as he waves a hand at one of his assistants.

What. Not who. Oh. Oh, the First Elder is blaming him. It's not fair.

"Wei Shi Seisha, I suggest you take your son to the next testing. Perhaps the heavens will choose to have mercy on him then.” Seisha, his mother, draws him close and rests a hand protectively on his shoulder, but she nods at the First Elder regardless.

She isn't stopping this and making sure he gets a badge.

“Until such time as they do, he will be Unsouled,” the First Elder continues.

Once they're outside of the hall, Lindon asks his mother a question. "What does being an Unsouled mean?"

"It means the heavens wish to shame us," his mother says grimly.

And so Lindon learns that he is something shameful.

Or he will be until he gets a badge. But if he gets one- well. Then things change, right?

The other children stop playing with him. Wei Mon Teris apologizes and says his dad told him to, when Lindon asks why.

He needs a badge. If he has one, then everything will go back to normal.

His mother agrees. Before his next test, six months after the first, she smears some of her blood onto his palm. Some of the madra freezes just the tiniest bit, but then goes back to normal.

The First Elder flips over his hand and sees the blood.

He sends Lindon away. With a badge. A badge without any picture in it. No scepter. No arrow. No shield. No hammer.

Instead, in the centre of the hexagonal wooden badge is a single character. Empty.

Empty like Lindon is inside, the First Elder says.

Getting this badge does not make anything better.

Lindon gets into a fight with Teris. Teris starts it. He wins. Barely. Teris still only comes up to his shoulder. But he's almost as strong as Lindon, now.

A few minutes later, Teris' father, Wei Mon Keth, stomps over and backhands Lindon in the face. Then he carries him to his home. Lindon's father apologizes to him.