KAI
The sage smoke writhed against my skin like a living thing, each breath drawing ancient power deeper into my lungs until Thunder stirred beneath my skin with a rumble I could taste like thunder on my tongue. Late afternoon light bled through Grandma Chen's rice paper screens in rivers of molten gold, turning the air itself into something that shimmered with possibilities I was still learning to name. My blood sang with rhythms older than time, making water vapor dance in unconscious patterns around my fingertips that felt inevitable as gravity, as breathing.
"Sit." Grandma Chen's voice hit me like a physical force, her tiny frame radiating the kind of raw authority that made Thunder’s hackles rise in primal recognition. The meditation mat burned warm against my legs, decades of pack
