.
.
.
.
Previous
.
.
.
.
The teacher leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Magic is come from outside influences—like elements, spirits, and the world. But aura…" He put a magic on his own hand. "Aura is inside."
Nathan gazed at him, his thoughts whirling. He knew of aura before, but people never discussed it in depth.
Sir Vad went on. "Few are born with the potential to use aura, and fewer still master its use. Aura or Arcane ability is not easily be found—but it is granted. And maybe they were born by the legends"
Nathan's mouth seems to fell, as though he wished to speak, but he couldn't articulate anything.
"Legends?" Nathan asked.
"Legends are meant to be the mythical or strongest heroes from the past centuries and granted with arcane abilities." Sir Vad replied.
Then, Sir Vad's eyes flickered down, just for a brief moment, before returning to Nathan's face.
Nathan didn't notice it at first, but something was glowing faintly against his chest, beneath his shirt.
Sir Vad's expression shifted ever so slightly—shock, realization, and something else.
But he said nothing about it.
Instead, he stepped back, straightening his posture. "Now," he said. "Let's see if you're ready to understand what it means to wield aura."
Nathan breathed in deeply, bracing himself. "Okay..... I'm ready."
He had no idea what came next.
But he knew, deep within, that this would alter everything.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Continue
.
.
.
.
.
The cool breeze drifted through the air, causing the trees around the realm to flicker. Nathan closed his eyes, trying to focus. He had to dig deep, search within himself for that feeling he had earlier—the sensation of power when he struck the boulder.
But in reality… his mind was blank.
Sir Vad raised a brow, observing him in silence before finally asking, "What exactly are you doing?"
Nathan hesitated. Then, after a moment, he opened his eyes and rubbed the back of his head. "Um… thinking?"
Sir Vad exhaled sharply, almost laughing at his response.
"You don't think aura into existence, Nathan. You feel it." He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "Let me ask you something—do you know why magic is found, but aura is granted?"
Nathan furrowed his brows. "Because… magic can be studied?"
Sir Vad nodded. "Exactly. Magic is a craft, a skill that can be learned through discipline and study. But aura is different. Aura is not something you master through books or incantations—it is a force that is drawn from the very core of your being."
His voice turned serious. "Most people rely on spells because they are external tools, something they can control with knowledge. But aura… aura is the manifestation of a warrior's spirit. It is the rawest form of power."
Nathan felt a strange energy stir within him.
Sir Vad continued. "There are three known kinds of Arcane Abilities: Aura, Essence, and Nexus. These three abilities can be turn into synergies, when harnessed properly and have the potential to elevate a warrior beyond even the greatest warrior's. If one were to combine all three into perfect harmony, they could unlock what is known as the Ultimate Five Forms."
Nathan furrowed his brows, still trying to process everything. "Sir, before we continue… you mentioned aura, essence, and nexus. What exactly are they?"
Sir Vad nodded, as if expecting the question. He raised a hand and conjured a faint glow around his fingers. "Aura, Essence, and Nexus are the three fundamental forces that shape all arcane warriors."
He pointed at the light surrounding his fingers. "Aura is the energy within. It comes from your own soul, your emotions, and your will. It is personal, unique to each person, and it cannot be taken from you."
Nathan nodded, absorbing the explanation. "And essence?"
Sir Vad waved his hand, dispersing the glow. "Essence is the energy that flows through the world—through nature, through elements, through the very air you breathe. It is external. For example, mages manipulate essence to cast spells, but warriors with arcane synergy can tap into it in their own way."
Nathan's mind raced. "So, essence is what fuels magic?"
Sir Vad smirked. "Not....exactly. But magic users rely solely on essence. They borrow power from the world. However, Arcane warriors forge their power from within."
Nathan crossed his arms. "And Nexus?"
For the first time, Sir Vad's expression darkened slightly. He hesitated before answering. "Nexus is… something far beyond the reach of ordinary beings. It is the purest connection between aura and essence, a bridge between internal strength and external forces. It is said that those who master the Nexus can wield power beyond comprehension."
Nathan's breath caught in his throat. "So… if someone were to combine all three—Aura, Essence, and Nexus…"
Sir Vad gave a knowing smile. "Then they would hold the key to the ultimate five forms."
Nathan's eyes widened. "The Ultimate Five Forms? What are they?"
Sir Vad's expression darkened slightly. He shook his head. "I cannot tell you that."
Nathan frowned. "Why not?"
"Because they are hidden." Sir Vad's voice was unwavering. "No one knows their true nature. Even if I could tell you, it would mean nothing if you have not yet discovered the path to understand them yourself."
Nathan clenched his fists.
"But…" Sir Vad said, his voice softening just slightly, "if you continue to grow… if you continue to fight for your own truth, then one day, you may discover them for yourself."
He then placed a firm hand on Nathan's shoulder. "Remember, Nathan. A fighter should never rush toward power. Instead, they must learn to discover something new in every step they take."
Nathan looked up at him, absorbing those words.
A lesson he would not forget.
And as the torches flickered, casting long grey clouds covering the top hill, the faint glow against Nathan's chest—hidden beneath his shirt—pulsed ever so slightly.
Unknown to him…
.
.
.
.
Nathan closed his eyes, attempting to calm his mind rather than filling himself with questions. His chest slowly moved up and down as he attempted to focus his mind. But seconds passed—and suddenly, the realization hit him like a spark. It was already nighttime.
"Oh no…" he whispered to himself, looking around at the twilight meadow. "If I come back late, I will be scolded for sure."
He spun swiftly towards Vad. "Um… Sir? I really need to go home now. My parents might be looking for me anytime."
Vad smiled and stood up from the seat. "Of course. You won't have to concern yourself with time. I will open a portal, which goes you directly to your home."
He raised his hand, concentrating on Nathan's memories. With Nathan's mind as a compass, Vad summoned a swirling green energy into the air. A shining portal materialized with a gentle hum, revealing Nathan's peaceful home view behind it.
"Is this where you live?" Vad asked.
Nathan's eyes gleamed. "Yes, Sir! That's my house!"
"Then go on. See you next time, kid."
Nathan dashed toward the gateway. "I will! Thank you, Sir!" he shouted over his shoulder, waving back.
"Later," Vad smiled, waving goodbye as the boy vanished in the light.
The darkness filled the earth gently. The full moon shone brightly overhead, giving off soft silver light across the open meadow. Fireflies flashed and floated like a shining stars across the field, following Nathan as he crossed the veil of the meadow. The green portal shimmered and slowly fade into the air.
He climbed in through the open window, dropping silently into the storage room—a space with wooden equipment, horse cart accessories, and the aroma of dust and oil. He walked softly towards the dining area, not wanting to make too much attention.
But before he could move through the hall, a voice he recognized called out to him.
"Nathan....?"
His mother, Rhea, emerged out of the halls, holding something in her hand. The letter—the one he had written that morning.
"Oh, I'm so relieved that you came back early," she said, a catch of emotion and relief in her voice. "I thought… I thought you weren't ever coming back."
She raised the letter and came towards him, her eyes warm but heavy with the weight of a mother's love.
Nathan bowed his head a little. "Mother, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just wanted to know what is outside the castle walls. I wanted to learn something new."
Rhea's eyes glimmered, but she did not scold him. Instead, she embraced him tightly.
"I'm just relieved you're safe," she whispered. "Please, don't sneak off like that again. You are everything to me. You're still a 5 years old child and it's dangerous outside. Understood?"
"I promise, Mother. I'm here now… and I'm not going anywhere without your permission." Nathan replied as he raised his face towards his mother.
She smiled and hugged back just enough to meet his eyes.
"Come on, your father's waiting. Let's eat."
"Yes, Mother."
Nathan followed her, but peeked around the doorway first. His father, Nalon, was already seated at the table, eating quietly, glancing occasionally at the door with a worried expression.
Nathan took a breath and stepped forward.
"Father, good evening," he said with a smile.
Nalon looked up immediately. His tense expression melted into one of relief. "Nathan… you're home. Come, sit here. Let's eat."
Nathan sat down beside him. The table was filled with a simple dinner: baked root vegetables, roasted meat, and a bowl of fresh salad. As they began to eat, the warmth of home filled Nathan's heart.
Rhea observed them on the sidelines, smiling softly at the peaceful sight of father and son eating side by side. But underneath the smile, something stirred within her mind—a feeling of worried she hurried to suppress.
"Mom, are you going to eat? Or not?" Nathan said, crunching a bit of salad.
"Oh! Yes, dear," she answered, snapping herself out of her thoughts. She sat down beside them at the table and had a small nibble of the salad.
.
.
.
.
.
That evening, later on, Nathan was on the top balcony, looking upwards towards the stars in the sky. The night breeze was cool and peaceful, with a fragrance of faraway flowers rustling through the air. Grass below glimmered under moonlight, and the trees swayed gently to the rhythm of the wind.
Nathan's eyes reflects the sky as he smiled to himself silently. There was something enchanted in this sky—something he couldn't put into words. Something in his chest, warm and comforting.
Light footsteps came behind him.
Rhea emerged onto the balcony and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Oh, it's you, Mother," Nathan smiled, leaning gently into her hand.
"Yes, dear," she smiled back to him warmly. Her eyes looked upward along beside him. "It's beautiful this evening, right?"
Nathan agreed. "It does seem different. As if. the stars are keeping an eye."
"They always do," Rhea's voice dropped almost to a whisper.
"Mother," Nathan questioned, "what shapes the stars make out. They seem like forms.
"Those are," Rhea smiled. "They're called constellations. Collections of stars that take the shapes of—like animals, people, and symbols. They're sparkly drawings in the night sky, only stories from thousands of years ago."
"Ohhh. That's great. What's that one over there on the right?" Nathan asked, waving his arm with excitement.
Rhea smiled quietly. "That one is the Aurora's Crown."
Nathan raise a brow, concerning. "What's that?"
"A constellation that's supposed to be a shining crown of light. It's supposed to lead people to wisdom and make them choose the right path in life." Rhea explain it with a soft smile.
"That's awesome…" Nathan whispered.
"And over there," Rhea went on, pointing to the left, "that's Dragon's Claw. A cluster of pointed, jagged stars that resemble a claw. It represents strength, fearlessness… and sometimes, protection of a warrior."
She curled her hand into a claw and playfully tickled Nathan's side.
"Mom!" Nathan laughed, giggling as he pulled away.
Then his eyes fell on a brilliant configuration in the middle of the sky. His face became one of wonder.
"Whoa… that one! The really bright one in the middle. What's that?"
Rhea glanced at it and smiled warmly. "That's the Amorella constellation."
"It's beautiful…" Nathan gazed as his eyes reflects the stars.
"Yes, it is," Rhea whispered. "It looks like a heart, doesn't it?"
Nathan nodded.
"It only shows up once a decade," she said. "Right around the Starlight Festival. They say it's like the stars embracing the world."
"That's… wow. It is special." Nathan replied.
Rhea's eyes grew soft. "This is my third time seeing it. And I'm so glad you're seeing it now too."
Nathan looked at her. "Is there a story about it?"
"There is, my mother tells me when i was a little girl" she said softly. "Would you like to hear it?"
"I would love to." Nathan's voiced was filled with excitement.
She breathed, her voice sweet and ethereal.
"Long long ago, in a distant galaxy named Elyria, there was a lovely and kind god of star named Amorella. She twinkled more than any other, not due to her strength or magic—but because of her soul. Amorella adored all stars and planets surrounding her. She wished to spread happiness and peace to all the worlds in the heavens."
"Once, she used her light to trace a heart in the sky—a constellation so peacefully and loving that all creatures who gazed at it felt reassured. It was adopted as a symbol of love, harmony, and hope."
Nathan's eyes grew wide as he listened.
"Since then," Rhea went on, "when the Amorella appears, it's said to spread happiness and prosperity to anyone who catches sight of it."
"Wow. amazing, Mother. So I'm lucky to see it?"
"Yes, Nathan. You're very lucky. Just like the way I'm lucky to have you," she said, sweeping a strand of hair at his forehead.
He grinned and snuggled into her.
"Thanks for telling me that story, Mother. I loved it so much."
"I'll always tell you stories, my dear," Rhea whispered, "because I'll always be here with you."
As the mother and son stood there, beneath the bright night sky, the Amorella constellation blazed down on them—a symbol of love illuminating the world from above.
The soft wind brushes Nathan's cheeks as he continued to gaze above at the stars, his mother's warmth remaining on his shoulder. The Amorella constellation shone even more faintly now, fading slowly behind the soft clouds as if withdrawing from the skies once more.
"Mom." Nathan whispered after a pause.
"Yes, dear?" She sounded concerned.
"I have one question.....Um, do you think, those stars are watching us? Like, really watching?"
Rhea's lips compressed into a contemplative smile. "I believe they are. Possibly not the way we see things, but their way of showing us something we've yet to understand. Stars were present long before we are, and they will be present long after we're gone. They carry the hopes of every person who ever gazed up at them."
Nathan's eyes snapped upwards again. "So. if I wished with those stars, would they hear me?"
Rhea knelt down beside him, her voice was soft and sincere. "Only if it is in the heart."
Nathan closed his eyes, his hand lightly pressed over his chest. He did not speak the wish—though deep inside himself, he wished for strength… the strength to protect his family, to learn the truth of the world beyond the castle walls… and never to forget the warmth of evenings like this.
Rhea quietly watched him, sensing the change in her son. He was still young—but tonight, something had changed in him. A motivation or quiet courage.
"You've grown, Nathan," she said gently.
He looked at her. "Really?"
"Yes," she nodded, brushing his bangs aside. "You don't realize it yet, but your heart is beginning to learn things that only time can teach. It's something that all warriors carry in their soul before they ever lay hands on a sword."
Nathan shook his head. "Warriors…?"
Rhea smiled as if she recalled something far away. "There are all kinds of warriors, Nathan. Some fight with swords. Others with choices. But the most real ones? They protect those they care about… even if nobody knows they're doing it."
The wind picked up a bit, and the leaves rustled in the distance. Nathan remained silent, looking out beyond the balcony railing.
"I think I want to be like that," he said. "Someone who can keep you safe. Someone who's strong. but gentle, too."
Rhea smiled. "Then hold that wish in your heart. And when the time is right—you'll know."
The two stayed there for a little longer, side by side under the starry night. The moment was quiet, yet complete. Complete with unspoken love, aspirations just beginning, and destiny slowly awakening from them.
Finally, Rhea got up. "Okay, young starwatcher. Time for sleep."
Nathan stretched and opened his mouth wide in a yawn. "Okay, Mom…"
They went back inside, the hard royal tiles floor under their feet. Nathan turned to glance at his mother as he went into his room.
"Mother?"
"Yes?" Rhea glanced at his son.
"I'm really glad you told me about those stars."
"I'm really glad you listened too, dear" she replied.
She closed the door quietly behind him.
As Nathan lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind wandered—not just through the stars, but back to Vad, the meadow, the portal… and the strange feeling in his chest that all of this was not a dream.
Somewhere, out there in the unexplored world, something waited for him.
He didn't know when.
He didn't know what.
But something in him knew—he tonight was only the beginning.
And as his eyes slowly closed, the last thing he looked at from the window was the Amorella—still glowing softly—like a promise of the stars.
.
.
.
.
.
Morning rises
.
.
.
.
.
The golden morning sun streamed in through the stone royal window, softly caressing the walls and floor of Nathan's peaceful room. Outside, birds sang soft whispers into the air, and the aroma of green grass and thin smoke from the chimneys nearby wafted in with the wind.
Nathan slowly opened his eyes.
He didn't stir at first. He simply lay there, allowing the peacefulness of the morning to come up. His mind flashed back to last night—his mother's soft voice, the radiant Amorella in the sky, the tale she spoke. and the wish he made in his heart.
It still felt true. Like something had shifted.
He sat up on his bed and massaged his eyes. The room was still somewhat cold, but the sun made it warm. He could hear the quiet noises of the castle beginning its day—hooves clapping in the stables, the muted conversation of the guards changing their watch, and the groan of wooden carts being rolled at the gates.
He rose and slowly went to the window. The sky was blue and clear, and the trees swayed softly in the breeze. The fields outside the castle walls seemed serene, with a few birds soaring above them.
Nathan rested his arms on the windowsill and stared outside. His heart felt calm, but also a little excited. Like something was calling him, even though he didn't know what it was yet.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Nathan?" It was his mother.
"I'm awake," he answered.
Rhea opened the door slowly and poked in with a friendly smile. "Good. Your father and I are downstairs. Eat before your food goes cold."
"Okay, I'm coming," Nathan replied, smiling back.
The door shut once more, and Nathan glanced out one final time. He didn't know why, but today marked the beginning of something big.
Something little was shifting within him—like gentle but powerful.
The aroma of warm bread, roasted meat, and fresh vegetables wafted through the air as Nathan entered the dining room. His mother, Rhea, had a smile on her face from across the table, already enjoying a cup of tea. His father, King Nalon, sat at the head of the table, silently reading a letter as he ate little bites of food.
"Good morning," Nathan said, sitting down opposite them.
"Morning, dear," Rhea said with a warm smile.
"Morning too, son, come and take a breakfast here." Nalon added, glancing up with a calm but serious look.
Nathan began eating, enjoying the food but thinking about something else. After a few bites, he put down his fork.
"You're up early today," Nalon said calmly, watching Nathan as he buttered his bread.
"I guess I couldn't sleep much," Nathan replied, not raising his eyes. "The stars were really pretty last night. Right Mom?"
Rhea smiled "Mhm, of course. It's beautiful than think."
Nalon didn't immediately reply. He just took a sip of his drink and looked at his son with subdued interest.
"Mother, Father…" he said softly.
Both parents turned to him.
"I want to ask something important," Nathan went on.
Rhea leaned forward. "Go ahead, dear."
Nathan breathed in. "May I… return to study with Sir Vad?"
Nalon's eyebrow shot up. "Vad?" he said, surprised.
Nathan slowly raised his eyes at the hesitation. "Father. is there something wrong?"
Nalon put down his cup, then leaned forward slightly. "I saw a light last night. An odd light, shining close to the forest beyond the castle walls." His voice was not angry, but there was a touch of curiosity—something more.
Nathan pause for a moment. Then he said cautiously, "You saw it?"
Nalon furrowed his brow. "Yes. I was on the west balcony. I know that section of land well. It wasn't natural."
Nathan's lips closed. He had no idea what to say at first, but then he dipped his head a bit. "That was. Vad's portal."
Nalon's eyes furrowed. "Vad? You mean the man out of the ancient tower?"
Nathan nodded. "He. he assisted me last night. We merely talked, that's all."
"And how long have you known him?" Nalon ask.
"Just yesterday," Nathan replied hastily. "I didn't even know who he was until I met him accidentally. He was teaching all children in the Atlon village. But he didn't harm me. He was nice. And. he explained things to me that I wanted to know."
Nalon leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "You already have a teacher, Nathan. A good one—Master Ronan, trained by the Sacred Academy itself. Why do you wish to learn from someone like Vad?"
Nathan stared down at his plate, looking for the right words. Then he looked up, his voice soft but truthful.
"Because. Vad teaches you things that feel true. Not merely lessons about books or history. He questions about my heart, my mind. about who I wish to be. He listens. I don't mean to disrespect Master Ronan, but. sometimes I feel I'm being taught things that don't serve to help me know myself. Vad speaks of purpose. and I think I need that at the moment."
Rhea, previously silent, put her hand on Nalon's gently. "He's not lying. I talked to him last night. Something's happening with Nathan. He's questioning things—not just the world, but himself. We need to cultivate that development, not to stop it."
Nalon's gaze shifted between them, then his wife, then his son. He nodded slowly, though his face was still pensive.
"I see," he replied after a silence. "But beware, Nathan. Just because a person is speaking softly does not mean he does not harbor danger. Remain open in the heart—but with eyes even wider."
"I will, Father," Nathan vowed.
Nalon rose and gave his son one final glance—one containing both pride and silent concern. Then he stepped toward the window, gazing out into the forest where he had witnessed the odd green light.
Rhea turned to Nathan with a gentle spoke and smile. "You did well."
Nathan smiled bashfully. "Thanks, Mom."
"Now," she said, smoothing his bangs with her fingers, "if you're going to study with Vad, be sure you still assist with your lessons here as well. You're still a prince."
"Yes, Mother," Nathan said, nodding.
And with that, Nathan had completed his meal and went quietly to his room. Standing by his little table, considering what to take, there was a queer sensation that awakened within him. His eyes blinked with a pale light—cyan, glowing weakly like a concealed blue light.
He blinked, and the gentle light from his eyes disappeared, surprised, but not frightened. A warm glow throbbed from the medallion under his shirt, as if leading him.
Then, as if something had spoken the solution, a thought took shape in his young mind. He spread out his little chest on the bed, examining each item with caution.
A water skin, some dried bread tucked in a white cloth, his tattered notebook with a charcoal pencil lodged within it, and a folded cloak in the event of rain. But above all else—his wooden training sword. Carefully he picked it up from the corner of the room where it lay, its surface smoothed from years of practice. Tucking it in a cloth, he secured it to the side of his pack.
Even at the age of five, it seemed like part of him knew precisely what he required. As if… he wasn't making this decision by himself. It was the medallion.
.
.
.
.
The castle corridors remained empty when Nathan completed securing the straps on his pack. His wooden sword rested next to it, shining and smoothed by years of small practice swings in the garden. The early morning light filtered through his window, highlighting the edges of the cloth-wrapped package.
He was going to pick it up when a gentle knock at the door echoed.
"Nathan?" his mother's voice called softly.
He opened the door to find Rhea already dressed in her gentle cloak, a concerned expression in her eyes. She saw the bag slung over his shoulder.
"You're actually going," she said softly.
Nathan nodded. "Vad said it's time I learn properly. I want to be ready."
Rhea walked closer, sweeping some hair out of his forehead as she always did. "I know. I just… I didn't think the day would arrive so soon that you'd head down into Atlon by yourself."
Nathan glared down. "I won't be gone too long. Just for training."
"I'll come along with you," she said, without asking permission.
They walked through the castle gates and over the curving path that went to the hill of the meadow—the very spot Nathan sat yesterday, under the cool air.
When they arrived at the rock on the edge of the hill, the wind blew across the high grass. Nathan stood there silently, experiencing the familiar wind once more. His mother stood next to him, arms loosely folded around herself.
"Listen, dear," Rhea began, her voice low but steady. "Atlon is a safe place, but not every heart there is kind. Some children from the academy… they've grown with pride, not patience. And sometimes, they may test you."
Nathan frowned slightly. "I've seen them. They think I'm weak."
"They don't know you," Rhea explained. "And sometimes, when people don't know something, they decide to make fun of it. But don't forget who you are, and why you're there."
He nodded. "To learn. And grow."
She smiled weakly. "And to protect. Never forget that. Strength is not about trying to prove yourself to them… it's about becoming someone that you'll be proud of. Regardless of whether anyone is looking or not."
Nathan peered out from behind the hill. "I'll remember."
Rhea placed a hand on his shoulder, then leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "Then go. And walk tall, my son."
Nathan cinched the straps on his bag and headed toward the path of the village.
Rhea lingered for a little longer, motionless on the grassy slope as the breeze pulled at her hair and cloak. Her gaze followed Nathan's small form as he descended the hill, the sun casting a soft golden glow along the trail he traveled.
He didn't look back—but that didn't matter. She could see it in his steps—the quiet determination, the careful strength growing in him little by little.
She placed a hand over her heart and exhaled slowly, a tender smile forming on her lips.
"You're finding your way already," she whispered to the wind. "Just like your father once did."
The wind bore her words ahead, pursuing Nathan as he vanished into the gentle glow of dawn—toward Atlon, toward his training, and unwittingly… toward the start of it all.
Rhea stood a moment longer, her eyes scanning the far horizon. The wind whispered gently through the tall grass at her side, as if the world itself were listening.
And then she turned, her cloak billowing behind her, and started the quiet walk back towards the castle. Every step was firm, elegant, and infused with a mother's silent prayer. When she reached the crest of the hill, the breeze followed her—warm and gentle—accompanying her all the way home.
.
.
.
.
The village of Atlon was only just coming to life when Nathan arrived. Cobblestone streets retained the morning cool of dew, and tiny shops opened one at a time, their windows flooding with warm light and the aroma of bread, herbs, and morning soup. Nathan strolled peacefully through the empty paths, a small bundle of cloth tied to his back—a wooden training sword, one Vad had requested him to bring.
He was nervous, but also excited.
The training ground lay at the outskirts of the village, beyond the well and a line of tall oak trees. As he got closer, he could already hear the voices—young voices, shouting and laughing. Some were rehearsing forms. Others were just roughhousing.
Nathan walked onto the grass soundlessly… and then he spotted them.
Three boys. A little older, a little taller. Faces he knew from yesterday's group. The ones who had whispered behind his back. The ones who had glared when he had tried to speak up during Vad's first lesson. And now—they were smirking again.
"Well, well," said the tallest, moving forward. "Look who's back."
Nathan didn't respond.
"You really think just because you're the son of a king and you belong here?" another boy said, crossing his arms.
"He probably begged Vad to train him one-on-one," the third boy laughed. "Royal baby can't handle real training!"
The words are strong, but Nathan didn't move.
"I'm here to learn," he said simply. "Same as you."
"Then learn this!" the first one suddenly shoved him hard on the shoulder.
Nathan stumbled back but didn't fall.
Another shove was given, and then a stumble of the foot. Nathan's knee struck the ground, but he was able to regain his balance. The other students in the side village looked over, not knowing if they should say something or turn their heads.
"You want to fight?" one of the boys taunting, stepping forward once again.
Nathan's hand raise slowly behind his back. He unwrapped the cloth and untied it—exposing the plain wooden sword.
He stood up, holding it tightly.
"I don't want to fight," Nathan replied, voice steady but calm. "But I won't just stand here."
The bullies laughed once more. "That thing? You gonna wave it like a stick?"
Nathan didn't say anything. He just got into a stance—one he had learned in private late at night. Feet light, knees bent, eyes focused forward.
The moment changed.
The taunting stopped for just a breath. Something in the way he stood. something was different.
The tallest boy surged in first, a grin contorting across his face. When his fist flew out, a faint reddish light surrounded it—barely perceptible, but unmistakable. Nathan's eyes widened.
Nathan dodge it just in time, hitting the boy's ankle to make him suffer to fight.
"He's using magic?" Nathan thought to himself, quietly.
The tallest boy rushed in continue, swinging wide with his fist. But this time, as he moved, a faint shimmer of energy sparked around his arm—a dull orange glow that pulsed with heat. The other two boys backed off, clearly surprised by it too.
"You think you're special?" the tall boy growled, magical energy coiling around his knuckles. "Let's see what that royal blood is worth."
The air shimmered as the fist swept in swiftly. Nathan dodged just in time again, the blow burning across his shoulder like a stone left out in the sun. He caught the swing with the blade of his sword, then dodged behind and striked the boy's back sharply. The hit wasn't hard, but it surprised him—and it angered him.
"Coward," the boy enraged. "Stop fighting, kiddo!"
The second boy rushed in blindly. Nathan dodged a wild lunge and swiped his leg low, sending the boy stumbling. He fell onto the grass with a grunt and dazed.
The last one hesitated, then snarled and came swinging a stick he grabbed from the side. Nathan deflected the blow with both hands on his wooden sword, sparks of pain filling through his wrists—but he didn't drop. He turned his hips, batted the stick aside, and shoved forward with a swift but clean thrust to the chest.
The boy staggered backward, panting.
The taller one moved forward once more, fury blazing in his eyes. "We'll see how long you can stand against this," he snarled—and this time, the magic in his fist blazed hotter.
He charged, fist aglow. Nathan didn't flee. He stanced himself, centered his breathing, and rather than intercept the fist, he sidestepped and struck the boy's arm with the flat of the blade—shooting the blow off target. The energy burst out harmlessly, striking only air.
The tall boy lost his footing, and Nathan delivered one additional crisp strike to his shoulder—not brutal, but solid.
Silence dropped.
The rest of the class had turned completely around, looking. Some with wide eyes. Some uncertainly. A few in awe.
Nathan towered over the others, gasping for breath but steady on his feet. His knuckles were raw, a scratch trailed down his face, but he hadn't flinched. Not even when faced with magic.
"That's. that's all you got?" He merely said. Sheathed his wooden sword.
Then—
"Enough!" a loud voice shouted across the field.
Every head snapped around.
Vad stood at the border of the grass, robes fluttering slightly in the wind, staff in hand. His face unreadable.
The bullies hurried back, suddenly remembering who their teacher was.
Nathan dropped his sword.
Vad advanced slowly. "Training does not start with ridiculing. It starts with listening, understanding, and self-control." He stopped in front of Nathan. "You. Are you injured?"
Nathan shook his head. "No, Master Vad."
Vad looked him again, then addressed the others.
"Today's first lesson," he said, his voice level but keen, "is respect. Without it, none of you are warriors. You're just noisy kids wielding concerns. Dismiss yourselves until you're ready to get started properly."
The bullies grumbled, looked away, and hesitately backed off.
Vad turned back to Nathan.
"You.... stood your ground."
Nathan nodded, still gasping.
"That is not easy," Vad said. "Especially when your heart desires peace but your body is forced to defend."
"I didn't want to fight," Nathan said. "I just… didn't want to run."
Vad offered a rare, approving smile.
"Good," he said. "Then let's begin."
.
.
.
As the training grounds were crowded with students, Nathan stood in front of the class, anticipating listening intently to Vad's teachings. The bullies before were still anger, managing their rage in silence, but for the moment, they focused to the teacher's lessons— although their eyes would stray sometimes toward Nathan, silently promising their revenge.
"Attention, class. Good morning," Vad announced, raising a slight wave toward the crowded students.
"Good morning," the students grumbled back, their voices are scattered and weak, with a little concentration.
Vad sighed, the weight of responsibility across his face. "Good morning, students!" His voice went up, not angry, but strong enough to gain attention.
The students stood up straight, some shocked, some shy, and others finally offering their attention.
"Good morning, Sir Vad!" the class replied in a loud, respectful voice this time.
Vad nodded in contentment.
"Good enough. That is how you demonstrate responsibility and discipline to others. Without those two, none of you will ever become good warriors."
The students were quiet now, the morning wind whispering through the grass and the leaves of the tall oaks surrounding them. Nathan felt the steady thump of his own heartbeat as he stood among them, feeling the remain tension that still evident in the crowd.
"Today's lesson is easy," Vad went on, moving slowly in front of them. "To learn to handle your weapons, you must first learn to stand your ground, master your breath, and stand with respect. You don't gain power from being careless, but from learning and understanding."
A handful of students glanced at one another, and a few nodded. Nathan continued looking ahead.
"Now...pair up," Vad commanded. "Each of you will do basic stances and defensive strategies. No striking yet. If I see anyone lift a weapon to hurt someone, you'll be sent home for the day and feel ashame."
The students nodded and started to move, pairing up. Nathan stood alone for a brief moment before one of the younger boys nervously edged closer.
But before they could start, the tall bully from before — Kellen — sneered and shouted out.
"Hey, royal baby, want a partner?"
Nathan looked at him but didn't say a word. He could feel it — a tiny hum in the air around Kellen's clenched-up his fist. A flash of heat. Kellen was summoning magic, a wild, immature stuff barely contained.
Nathan's mind spoke quietly to itself. "He's doing it again…"
In time with the others, no one else realized, Vad's voice interrupted.
"Kellen! Hold on!" the teacher snapped without looking around. "No magic while we practice the foundation. You'll burn your own hand before you learn to hold a proper stance."
The shame on Kellen's face spread as the weak warmth around his hand dissipated. He cursed under his breath and stepped aside.
Nathan exhaled a slow, even breath.
"Focus, Nathan. It's only the beginning."
Vad held his staff up.
"Begin!"
And at that very instant, something strange occurred again.
A gentle blue light flashed from the medallion under Nathan's tunic — a swift, quiet beat of light. It traveled through him like a cool wave, making his chest lighter, his arms firm. His eyes spark for an instant before the blue light disappeared as though it had never existed.
Nathan didn't notice it.
But within his head, something was clearer. His mind was composed, his nerves level, and his body seemed to know what to do without him even thinking too much.
The field erupted with motion. Wooden blades rang with sharp, rhythmic thuds as students initiated their drills. Some fumbled, some kept looking over at Vad, hoping he would OK them.
Nathan held his sword tightly, standing firmly. The younger boy next to him, his practice partner, appeared anxious.
"Relax your shoulders," Nathan instructed gently, readjusting the boy's hands. "Keep your weight on the front of your feet, like this."
The boy imitated him with a swift nod.
As the drills continued, Kellen and his two friends continued to sneak peeks at Nathan. Their usual smirks were back, but they remained silent under Vad's watchful eyes. Instead, they inched their way closer to Nathan's group during the exercises.
Then it occurred — Daren, a friend of Kellen's, swung his practice sword too broad intentionally, clipping dangerously close to Nathan's head.
Nathan responded in an instant.
He moved away quickly, twisted his wrist, and used the blade side of his sword to smooth Daren's arm away. It wasn't a blow hit, just a smooth, clean correction.
A couple of students standing nearby paused to observe.
Daren forward, his face flushing.
"Watch your blade," Nathan told him quietly. No rage. No ridicule. Just firm, clear words.
Even Kellen scowled. Something in Nathan's serenity felt uncomfortable… and wrong.
A little afterward, Kellen teamed up with another student beside Nathan's group. But from pride, he swung too hard and too fast — with a blow that would have landed on Nathan's side if he hadn't been prepared.
Nathan reacted without delay.
He turned to the blow, raised his practice sword, and deflected it with a ringing crack. For an instant, both swords were locked in place, and Nathan's blade did not shift.
Kellen's eyes opened wide, caught off guard by the power of Nathan's block.
"Control, Kellen!" Vad's voice rang out firmly.
Kellen backed up hastily, his face scowling and shocked, but still, he needs his revenge.
Vad looked over, his face was silent but his eyes hard.
"Good response, Nathan," Vad spoke. His voice was even, though his look at Kellen said more. "And you — control your strikes. This isn't a brawl fight."
The other students began to whisper among themselves. They also exhibited a new type of respect in their eyes as they gazed at Nathan, who just stepped back into his position as though nothing had occurred.
Within Nathan's mind, a soft voice arose, as if his own voice were speaking to him in return.
"That's enough for now. Don't show off. Just let them see it."
And for the very first time that morning, a small smile pulled at the edge of his mouth.
The drills continued.
And gradually, as minutes passed away, blades met and cries echoed across the training field, the odd clarity in Nathan's mind faded away — slinking away silently, leaving him where he was previously. No one was aware. Not even Nathan.
Nathan blinked, feeling as if something had slipped away from him quietly.
"Huh… what was that? What just happened?" he told himself and become a little confused.
But there was no reply. And in the end, he just forgot it.
"Never mind…."
He lifted his sword once more.
Only the medallion beneath his tunic stayed quiet and motionless.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Realms of the dead (part of the underworld)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The scene of the story shifted away from the training grounds and homelands — into the hell underworld, the Land of the Dead.
A land where the fallen, ancient warriors and forgotten spirits are made again as undead to become the corrupted legions of the abyss. It is a land of eternal decay, where the air is heavy with the stench of rotten flesh and rusted swords buried under the mounds of older bones.
(This location was not far away from the depths of the underworld or the core of hell. It is located in the Northeast and its left side is home to the Pit of shadows. Also the abyss land is located in the West part.)
The earth was cracked and empty, dark-stained by centuries of blood. Rotting corpses and old warriors, worn-out skeleton warriors moved eternally, their empty eyes glowing dimly in the darkness. Heavy and unnatural quiet covered the land, but broken by the distant, echoing cries of damned souls.
In the center of this dead land ran the River of Death — a black, slow-moving stream that glowed under a crimson sky. It was rumored that anyone who swam across its dark waters would be permanently altered and their souls will be taken by the void.
At the mountains of the two peaks of this monarchy stood the two ancient thrones — Nyxoria and Mortis. One was the Judgement of Fate which is the Nyxoria, the other one is the Judgement of Time, the Mortis. Souls presented before them would have their time and fate determined. Nyxoria balanced a soul's past and decisions, whereas Mortis decided how long their punishment or peace would endure in the underworld.
And behind these thrones, a presence emerged.
Lilith.
(This character was introduced in chapter 2, right?)
The half-demon and half-hearted, neither living nor dead. Her dark and white hair floated like smoke, and her crimson eyes shone dimly in the blackness. A rent cloak fell across her shoulders, concealing the odd, old scars sealed into her flesh.
She walked among the restless dead fearlessly. The rotting soldiers parted before her, some lowering their heads in a broken, twisted sort of respect. Lilith was no ruler here, but she was something the dead recalled — such as a soul cursed to be trapped between worlds.
Standing in front of the thrones, Lilith gazed up at the vacant seats.
"So… no one watches today, eh?" she breathed softly, her lips curled up in a bitter smile. "Good. I have work to do in the world above afterwards."
The earth under her feet shook as the river of death changed its direction, and off in the distance, a bell rang — a signal that a new soul had entered the underworld.
Lilith's eyes grew hard.
"Another one, huh?" she whispered. "Let's see if this one makes a difference."
And with that, she turned and continued on, her form disappearing into the fog.
Walking through the dead landscape, Lilith murmured to herself. Her half-hearted mind flickered between regret and defiance, torn in two.
"I shouldn't have done it… I was told to find cruel and heartless person. Young one or an old one — but I didn't care. Hades was right. He told me to give the medallion to someone twisted or bad. Someone who'd spread the darkness to the world above when the time was right."
She sighed a long sigh.
"But I didn't. I already gave it to that kid."
Lilith's eyes gazed into the distance, recalling the pale light that emitted from Nathan's body when she presented him with the peculiar medallion.
"That thing I gave, wasn't normal power. It wasn't evil. But it was something else. Something ancient… something from the myths. I think I combined it with one of the three Arcane synergies? - either Aura, Essence, or Nexus. I don't remember." She glances around before continuing.
"Sigh, why is it that I can never remember when I stored something special and gave it to someone."
She brushed a hand through her hair, feeling heavy emotion in her heart.
"And now what? Hades will discover. He always does. Not like I've ever been skilled at taking orders," she grumbled with a small smile.
She walked past crumbling statues and broken ruins. The dead soldiers around her didn't move, only watched with empty eyes.
"Maybe there's a reason why it chose him. Maybe that legendary bloodline still exists?… hidden away in that quiet village."
Lilith chuckled under her breath, though there was no joy in it.
"I'll need to come up with something good reason when Hades asks," she said. "Not that he cares for excuses."
Her crimson eyes gazed across the wasteland a final time before she vanished into the mist once again.
The Land of the Dead was quiet, lifeless, and waiting what was to come.
Lilith continued to walk further into the underworld's endless shadows or the underworld's core, the decayed ground shattering beneath her footsteps. The atmosphere surrounding her was lifeless, heavy with the stench of rot. She spoke to herself once more, her voice resolute and hard.
"I'll need to lie… or maybe I'll just disappear for a while," she muttered, thinking about how Hades would react if he know she gave the medallion to Nathan. "That man doesn't forgive mistakes, especially me."
As she moved between piles of bones and broken weapons, two tall figures appeared from the shadows ahead.
Their bodies were nothing but bone, clad in cracked, ancient armor, with long rusted spears in hand. Red, faint light burned in their hollow eye sockets.
Demon skeleton guards.
Soldiers of the underworld's core — sent only by Hades himself.
Lilith stopped, exhaling softly.
"Tch… what now?" she grumbled.
One of the guards moved forward, its voice a rough and dry.
"Miss Lilith."
She folded her arms, raising a brow. "Yeah, what do you want?"
The second guard replied, its tone equally hollow.
"The Lord of the Underworld calls you. He has a message."
Lilith's gaze narrowed.
A chill slid down her back, but she remained nonchalant.
"Of course he does," she replied softly, struggling to make a smirk. "I guess he noticed it after all."
The first guard leaned its head to one side, as though in expectation.
"Okay, fine, lead the way, I'll follow." Lilith said, gesturing with a hand. "Let's go find out what your master wants."
The two demon skeletons turned, the bony heels of their feet scraping against the dead earth, and started to guide her towards the darker, more shadowy regions of the underworld — a region even most cursed souls are afraid to enter.
Lilith followed behind, her half-hearted mind flickered between fear and rebellion, already attempting to guess what kind of punishment or warning awaited her.
The mist grew denser around them as they moved, and the screams of the cursed grew distant into an uncomfortable silence.
The underworld was never silent for nothing.
As they continued further, the warped landscape surrounding them transformed. The bones on the ground became black, and ghostly, ethereal forms and statues drifted through the heavy fog. The atmosphere was denser here, weighing upon Lilith's skin like a chill hand.
She look around as she followed the guards, continuing to murmur to herself.
"Should have known better than to accept that job," she grumbled. "Was just meant to pass it to some powered brat or a crazy-grabbing fool… not some kid like him."
Lilith's gaze dropped for an instant, recalling Nathan's face when she'd handed him the medallion.
"And yet… something about that boy. There's no way Hades knew he was one of them."
Her fingers brushed against the faint scars on her wrist — marks left by old and cursed bindings.
"I swear, if this Arcane legend nonsense turns real because of me… I'm dead twice over."
A faint, humorless laugh escaped her lips, echoing in the cold mist.
The skeleton demons did not speak as they took her across a broken-down stone bridge drawn over the River of Death. The black waters flowed slowly under them, their currents carrying splintered swords and white, dead bodies in drag.
In ahead, a broken-down, giant gate appeared on the horizon — constructed of lava and rusting chains, padlocked by night-dark ancient glowing softly.
The first guard moved around.
"Wait here."
It disappeared into the fog past the gate while the second one waited guard by her side.
Lilith crossed her arms, exhaling a slow breath.
"Great. Now there comes the scolding."
She gazed up at the blood-red sky overhead, its color reflected in her crimson eyes.
"Just give me a chance to explain, Hades… or at least allow me to run before you decide to tear me apart."
The oppressive silence lingered on.
Far in the background, there was a ringing of a bell once again.
And within that accursed place, Lilith waited — not knowing if her next move would be retribution, forgiveness… or worse.
The creaking heavy gate clattered open slowly, rusted chains clinking as a thick fog rised out through the opening beyond. The first skeleton guard reappeared, its empty eyes dimly shining.
"Hades will see you now," it croaked.
Lilith's brow furrowed, sighing.
"Well… no turning back now."
She followed the guard through the corridor, the walls constructed of snarled, fossilized bones piled higher than any sharp. There were faint whispers in the air — voices of the very dead, muttering things no living mind could understand.
Lilith maintained her pride, although her heart, what little there was of it, twisted uncomfortably in her chest.
She muttered to herself, again in a silent tone, as they proceeded.
"Why'd I even bother…? I could've gave that medallion to some rotten warlord or one of those brutal people, power-mad nobles. Again, but no, I gave it to a kid with clear eyes and a forgotten bloodline. What was I thinking…?"
She said nothing, but followed only deeper until the corridor opened into a huge, dark-filled room.
Seated in the midst was a statuesque figure upon a throne made of dark rock, its figure wrapped in enraged lava and ragged vestments of night. A crown of fire nebulas wore upon his head, and blue fire burned cold within his eyes.
Hades.
The ruler of the underworld inclined forward from his seat a fraction as Lilith approached, his voice rousing through the hall like a rumbling thunder.
"Lilith."
She bent her head, a corner of one mouth twitching up into a half-smile.
"My lord?"
The temperature dropped.
"I know you've failed your mission."
Lilith stood firm, even if the shadows did seem to close in on her.
"I didn't fail," she replied levelly. "I gave it to someone. Just... not the kind you wanted."
Hades' eyes narrowed, his burning gaze appearing to carry straight through her.
"A hopeless boy with a forgotten blooline… Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Lilith swallowed hard, voice gentle but firm.
"I don't know what he is yet… but something forced me he's supposed to carry it. If I was mistaken… punish me."
There was a heavy, drawn-out silence. Even the whispers within the walls disappeared because of the sudden silence.
Hades finally reclined upon his throne.
"You might have altered the course of fate, Lilith… for better or worse. The balance is a delicate thing. If this Aura awakens, the core of the underworld itself might sense its pull."
Lilith exhaled a breath, tension easing from shoulders.
Lilith clenched her fists, her crimson eyes refusing to look away. She knew she had made a mistake — a dangerous one.
Hades' gaze turned cold. "That boy… Nathan. And the medallion you gave him — it was meant for a soul already filled with evil and cruel, right? Someone I could shape. But you…" his voice fell lower, colder, "you gave it to a bloodline of legend. A heart that fate had kept hidden for a reason."
A dull rumble ran through the chamber, the River of Death groaning far away in the distance.
Hades gradually rose from his throne. "If that Aura is awaken… it will not end there." His tone grew heavy with a menacing threat.
"It's one of the three old synergies, Lilith. Aura, Essence, and Nexus."
Lilith's head looked up, terror lit up in her crimson eyes.
Hades' expression turned sorrowful. "Each was destined to remain lost to time. Alone and separated. If one is awakened, the other two may follow as well. And when all three are reborn into the world, the very heart of the underworld — the heart or core of this pit — will tremble and destroyed. It will shatter. And all of this realm, from the River of Death to the Judgment Thrones and all, will be torn apart."
The weight of those words pressed the air down. Even the dead shadows seemed to shrink away.
Lilith swallowed hard, her voice shaking. "I… I didn't mean to… I didn't know he carry such bloodline."
Hades descended from his throne, stopping before her. His voice became deathly still.
"The punishment I applied you last time," Hades declared, his voice ice-cold, "was only a dark cage. The cell of an abyssal prisoner. I refused you out of mercy, seeing your half-hearted soul because of your broken past… the family I myself threw to death."
The mention of her dead family — those words — did something to Lilith.
A wave of unwanted memories flickered her.
______________________________________________________________
A child's laughter. Filling across fields of sunlight. a gentle hand holding hers. his voice calling out her name.
"Lilith! Wait for me!"
Her little brother named — Asriel.
(She already mentioned it in the chapter 2)
She recalled the instant the skies darkened. Fire falling from above. The shadows and abyss consuming all in their kingdom.
Another of memories hit Lilith's mind — ones she had attempted to keep buried so long ago.
Her home. The battlefield echoed with clashing swords. Cries for recovery and freedom. The sky above is turning red as darkness releases forth from the depths.
She remembered her father — sword raised, fighting with their royal men. His face smeared with blood and dust, yet his soul burning and unrelenting.
"Take them and go!" he cried.
But too late. Their soldiers fell, one by one. Her father, strong though he was, was overpowered by the darkness — devoured by it in a whirlwind of black mist, his shape disappearing into nothingness.
Her mother stood fast, holding both Lilith and little Asriel close against her body. Tears in her eyes, but her hands did not shake.
"Stay behind me," she had whispered, keeping them hidden and safe from the abyss twisting across the shattered streets.
Lilith could still hear her mother's prayer — and the final glance in her eyes when the darkness attacked. A shard of shadows tore through her chest, and she collapsed to the ground.
Lilith had screamed, holding onto Asriel.
But the real terror followed.
The abyss didn't devour Asriel like the others.
Instead, something worse occurred. The shadows grasped for him — and his little body stiffened. His eyes went wide as if beholding something far beyond the world. Then the light in his eyes went out, not like death, but like a candle extinguished from within.
His soul was taken. Torn away, leaving him an empty, lifeless human. Not dead. Not alive. A hollow vessel, beyond the power of gods and healers.
Lilith had wept, helplessly, holding her brother's lifeless form while the world around her was aflame.
And her scream… she never forgot it.
______________________________________________________________
Now, in front of Hades, those memories cut deeper than any judgement.
And then. nothing.
Lilith's breath caught, a piercing ache behind her eyes, but she willed herself to be motionless.
Hades' voice cut through, bringing her back to reality.
"But this time," he told her, his tone cold as ice, "this will be greater than endless. If you've destroyed us all… I will tear apart your soul, tear it to shreds. You'll be threw into the endless Abyss, forgotten by both life and death. No face, no voice, and no memory. You will roam as nothing for all eternity. A curse greater than pain itself."
Lilith's breath was shaking, her voice little more than a whisper.
"I… understand... Then I suppose, we'll both be keeping an eye on him now, won't we?"
For an instant, a weird flash of something — was it amusement? — passed over Hades' cold face.
"Very well. You will be my eyes in the world above. Watch the boy. When the time is right… you will know what to do."
Lilith nodded shortly, crooked smile.
A long silence followed. Then Hades turned away.
"Now go. Return to the surface," he ordered, his voice sharp and final. "And pray to whatever gods remain that his power stays buried. Or you'll learn what it truly means to suffer."
Lilith was concerned "Wasn't going to leave him alone anyway?"
And with a flick of Hades' wrist, the shadows closed around her, the underworld disappearing from view.
The demon guards stepped aside.
Lilith clenched her fists, the burden of her decision and ancient memories seeping into her soul. She turned and went, her shadow vanishing into the infinite dark. Behind her, the center of the underworld burned weakly — a slow, warning pulse.
As she went, Lilith talked softly to herself.
"Nathan…" she whispered to herself. "What have I done…?"
"Nathan… I gave you something I wasn't supposed to. And if those other powers are awakened… I could have destroyed everything."
And again, the land of the dead was left behind, silent and waiting.
But now… a storm was brewing quietly.
Lilith stroked the back of her neck, talking to herself.
"Well… I suppose I have no choice now."
She walked, crackling her boots on dry bones that lay across the ground. The agitated dead directed their blank gazes towards her as she walked, but none moved towards her.
With every step deeper into the dead earth, her apathetic mind wandered again.
"Nathan, huh? What makes you so different…? That Aura wasn't supposed to wake up — not now, not in him."
Lilith looked up at the blood-red sky, her crimson eyes narrowing.
"Again, I was supposed to give that medallion to a monster… someone worse than me. Spread a little darkness, cause some chaos and simple. But you… you weren't supposed to matter. And yet…"
She exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh twisting her lips.
"Fate always has its own way, doesn't it?"
A far-off, silent hum filled the air. The River of Death glimmered in the distance, and the wind carry the faint wails of lost spirits.
Lilith stood still, gazing around the hell landscape. She knew it well. Every broken road, every restless ghost, every cursed whisper. And yet, tonight it was different.
She didn't know why… but a steady pull in her chest indicated things were already altering.
"Guess I'd better stay close to that kid," she whispered to herself quietly. "If you burn the world down… I'll be right behind you."
And with that, she disappeared into the dark fog once again, with nothing left but the chill air and the broken bones behind.
The underworld waited as it had always waited — in silence, cursed, and waiting.
But in the world above, a faint light awakened in the heart of a boy named Nathan… and an ancient power long forgotten started to wake.