Hello.
Its been thirteen years since I last typed on you. To be honest, I didn't expect to I've this long. And I actually never finished the first thing I wrote when I was four years old.
Should I tell you how my life has been up to this point? It has been... horrific.
At age six I underwent Reversal Ascension and had to be betrothed for me to be able to survive. It's shocking how I'm not in pain even after I'm extremely far away from Adelasta across time and space, literally, but what can I say? This Epoch Cycle is a menace.
Then, I began my weapon training from age seven to ten. Believe me, that was the worst scenario in my life. My body was abused and turned into a weapon, literally. Martial arts, constant regeneration from sliced limbs and muscles, pain endurance, extreme perception and capable of defending against multiple weapons, all in three years.
I guess that's what happens when you're the son of a Nexus who uses a blade.
Also, I have three siblings too. Anamorsia, Milliania and the twins, Leon and Leones. To be honest, I kind of miss them. I never talk much about them but they are the best siblings one can ask for.
And also, I kind of like it when they ask to spar with me or go around Upper Rise to hang out. Its been 31 days for me since I came to the Epoch Cycle.
And at age ten to seventeen, I was trained in the magecraft by my father. How to draw, speak and write Runes, the basics of creating a mystic circle, how to use essence on your body, how to use my Omniphage and so on.
My father is a kind but abusive teacher. Always draining my essence by making me write 79 basic rune letters, making me memorize complex runes until it was instinct...
He's brutal. And at the same time, I trained on weapon mastery with Adelasta. To be honest, I don't know how powerful I am now since I've never gone all out.
And at age seventeen, I was ready to go to Minafallen Academy for two reasons. To gain influence as a Nexus's son and to get more knowledgeable about Spheraphase.
But unfortunately, the Epoch Cycle came to be.
To be completely honest, I did not expect to be sent back 7,700 years ago to save a bunch of tribal nomads from dying and helping them migrate. I'm sure that Peccavi will find them soon and since I told her to take care of them until I return through the Sapphire Bond, it will be fine. After all, she was the previous Winter Labor for a couple of decades.
And now, it's the Winter Solstice, two years left before the Destras Cataclysm, which I'm going to have a first row seat when it happens. My plan to save the Epoch Cycle is simple.
Help the Raukerai migrate, kill the Winter Labors, kill the Frozen God with the Seventh Enlightenment Students. And to do that, I have to cooperate with Sirithiele, a Minor Goddess.
I'm going to alter time itself. Since the Epoch Cycle is messing with time, then what's the harm of messing with it more?
The next time I'm going to write is when.... if I witness the Destras Cataclysm so...
Goodbye.
°°°°°°
Vastarael's fingers danced quietly over the keys of his sleek holographic diary. The soft hum of the Bioluminescent Manta Ray beneath him was soothing, its massive, glimmering body cutting gracefully through the clouds under the silver light of the twin moons.
He finished the last sentence with a sigh of satisfaction, closing the diary with a quiet snap. For a moment, he just sat there, his golden eyes gazing at the endless expanse of stars above. The night sky stretched out in a tapestry of breathtaking constellations, and the faint shimmer of the Bioluminescent Manta Ray's glow reflected off the clouds beneath them, creating an ethereal atmosphere.
It was a beautiful sight flying on a very massive creature hundreds of meters wide above the clouds at night.
Then, he looked down at the figure sprawled across his lap.
Phaenora lay there, her breathing soft and even, her cheeks slightly flushed from the chill of the high-altitude winds. Her sapphire blue hair cascaded over his legs like a silken river, catching the faint luminescence of their majestic mount. One of her hands rested on his knee, her delicate fingers curled slightly as if clutching a dream.
Vastarael couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. She had argued with him earlier about flying at night, stubbornly refusing to rest, yet here she was, sound asleep, using him as a pillow. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable and for a moment, Vastarael felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of her hair away from her face.
"She's always trying so hard. Always so stubborn. And yet… she's always here."
The manta ray shifted slightly, its vast wings undulating with a hypnotic grace as it glided effortlessly through the night sky. Vastarael ran a hand over the creature's warm, leathery skin, marveling at its beauty. The Bioluminescent Manta Ray was as much a companion as it was a steed and in this moment, he felt a deep gratitude toward the goddess who had entrusted it to him.
He already had a good plan on how to use it.
Ahead, the horizon began to lighten just slightly, a faint silvery glow marking the edge of dawn. They were approaching the Lake of Miracles, where Sirithiele awaited them.
He looked down at Phaenora again, his expression softening further.
"You're going to miss the sunrise," he whispered, though he made no effort to wake her. Instead, he adjusted his posture slightly, ensuring she was comfortable as they flew onward.
The manta ray let out a low, melodic hum, as if sensing his thoughts. Vastarael glanced at it, patting its back gently.
"Thanks for this," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure if the creature understood him. "You're a good mount."
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the wind tousle his hair. When he opened them again, the shimmering waters of the Lake of Miracles came into view, its surface glittering like liquid starlight.
The Bioluminescent Manta Ray descended gracefully, its massive glowing form casting rippling patterns of light onto the tranquil surface of the Lake of Miracles. As its broad wings dipped closer to the ground, Vastarael steadied Phaenora, who was still nestled against him in a deep, dreamless sleep.
He shifted Phaenora slightly in his arms, holding her close as he slid down one of the manta ray's wings. The leathery surface was surprisingly smooth and he landed with ease on the dew-damp grass.
The moment his boots touched the ground, the manta ray began to fade, its bioluminescent patterns dissolving into golden light. Vastarael looked back briefly, offering it a grateful nod before it vanished entirely, leaving him and Phaenora in the serene stillness of the lakeside.
He turned his attention toward the familiar tree he sat with the goddess. And there she was, Sirithiele.
The goddess leaned casually against the tree, but her eyes were anything but casual. They were sharp, locked onto him with an intensity that made him smirk inwardly. But her serene façade cracked slightly as her gaze fell on Phaenora, who clung to Vastarael like a lifeline, her arms looped tightly around his neck even in her sleep.
Sirithiele's fingers dug into the bark of the snake tree, her knuckles whitening. The faintest crease formed between her brows and her lips pressed into a thin line as if she were trying to suppress a reaction.
Vastarael caught it immediately, though he feigned obliviousness, his expression one of polite neutrality. He adjusted Phaenora slightly in his arms, the movement deliberate as if to emphasize her closeness.
"Good morning."
Sirithiele didn't respond immediately. She straightened, her arms folding across her chest as she raised an eyebrow at him.
"You're late."
"Am I? I actually arrived before sunrise so I'm pretty early."
As he approached the tree, Phaenora stirred slightly, her breath warm against his neck. She murmured something unintelligible, her hands tightening their grip on his outfit. Her face pressed against his chest, and she inhaled deeply, as if seeking comfort in his scent.
"Mmm… smells like… him," she muttered sleepily, a soft, almost contented sigh escaping her lips.
Sirithiele's jaw tightened, though her expression remained composed.
"She seems... quite comfortable."
Vastarael resisted the urge to chuckle.
"She's had a rough journey," he said, as if that explained everything.
He carefully sat by the base of the tree, lowering Phaenora to rest on his lap. Her arms loosened reluctantly and she let out a faint whimper as she adjusted herself, still clinging to his sleeve even in her sleep.
He stood and dusted off his hands, finally meeting Sirithiele's gaze.
"It's good to see you again, though you seem... less than pleased to see me."
Her lips twitched but she didn't respond immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, her movements graceful yet deliberate, as if she were asserting her presence.
"I suppose it's none of my concern how you choose to spend your time."
"But if it were your concern, I'd assure you that she's just a companion. Nothing more."
Sirithiele's gaze flicked to Phaenora briefly before returning to him.
"You're awfully protective of 'just a companion.' And she doesn't look that way to you."
"I'm protective of anyone who's important to me," Vastarael countered. "You included."
The admission caught her off guard for a moment and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. She quickly recovered, tilting her chin up as if to reclaim the upper hand.
"I'm a goddess. I don't need your protection."
Vastarael smirked, stepping closer, his voice dropping into a rich, low tone that seemed to hum with sinful intent.
"Believe me, goddess, the protection I'm talking about isn't the kind you're imagining."
The words rolled off his tongue like a promise, dripping with seduction, and Sirithiele's breath hitched. A deep flush spread across her cheeks, her usual poise unraveling as she scrambled for a response, but all she managed was a stammer.
"Y-you... what are you even—"
He leaned in just enough for his breath to brush against her skin, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"I'd explain but... I'm not sure you'd be able to handle it."
Her blush deepened impossibly further as she turned away in a flustered mess, muttering incoherent protests about arrogance and insufferable mortals, though she couldn't quite hide the trembling smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
'I wonder what my father would say when he realized that I made a goddess flush.'