[INT. HEADMASTER'S OFFICE – MORNING LIGHT]
The golden light of dawn filtered through the arched windows of the School of Light's tallest tower.
Headmaster Elarion stood in silence, his fingers hovering over the first scroll.
It pulsed once under his touch — faint, but urgent.
He broke the seal.
---
The parchment unfolded itself in a soft glow, revealing elegantly written script — the voice of an old ally.
> "To the Head of Light — Elarion.
We write to you not in formality, but in growing concern."
> "Over the past three years, our schools have faced increasing demonic incursions.
While we have contained them, their numbers have grown bolder, more precise.
We fear containment may soon become failure."
> "No lives have been lost — yet.
But if we do not strengthen our defenses now… we may not hold out for long."
> "We request the assistance of your most trusted subordinates.
Their presence alone may be enough to restore balance."
The letter ended with a signature glowing in time runes — the seal of the School of Time.
Elarion's jaw tightened.
---
He opened the second scroll.
The same message.
Different words — same desperation.
Then the third.
And the fourth.
And the fifth.
All five Divine Schools were under attack.
All five feared that their walls were no longer enough.
---
[INT. OFFICE – MOMENTS LATER]
Elarion sat at his desk, hands folded.
His mind moved like lightning, yet his expression remained calm.
He reached for a blank scroll and dipped his quill in golden ink.
---
> "To the Honored Heads of the Divine Schools,"
"Your concerns have been heard and understood.
I will dispatch one of my most elite subordinates to each of your academies at once."
"In addition, I propose that the Divine Schools' Grand Competition — held every five years — be advanced."
"Due to the rising threat and the urgent need to prepare our elite youth, I suggest we shorten the cycle to three years."
"The next competition shall take place exactly one year from now."
"Prepare your ten strongest students."
He sealed the scroll with his personal emblem: a sun cradled in a sword.
Then, with a wave of his hand, five shimmering portals opened across his office.
Five elite Light Knights stepped forth — cloaked in white-gold armor, blades humming with divine light.
Without a word, he handed each of them one scroll.
---
> Elarion:
"Go. Stand with them. Shield the future."
The five nodded and vanished through the portals.
---
[INT. SCHOOL OF LIGHT – ELITE TRAINING CHAMBER]
Far below, in a vast underground arena carved from pure crystal and blessed stone, ten students stood in a circle.
Eight were familiar — children of the gods.
Lyrion, Veloria, Kairo, Syleria, Sylion, Aria, Auron, and Cyra — all of them quiet now, sensing something had shifted.
Beside them stood two older students:
Ray, a 17-year-old warrior from Class 10 — known for defeating a full squad of senior students alone. Though he was the same age as Rika, he'd joined the School late, which placed him in a lower class despite his overwhelming skill.
Rika, a 17-year-old Class 12 mage with silver eyes and a voice like thunder, her elemental control unmatched in the past decade.
Both had been summoned to the circle by direct order.
None of them yet knew why.
---
Elarion entered, his aura pressing down like sunlight made heavy.
The chamber quieted.
---
> Elarion (calm, serious):
"Each of you has been chosen because you are more than promising.
You are irreplaceable."
> "One year from now, the Grand Divine Competition will be held — not in five, but in three.
And you will be the team to represent the School of Light."
A ripple of surprise moved through the group.
Lyrion's fingers curled slightly. Veloria glanced at him.
Kairo cracked a grin.
Rika's expression didn't change.
Ray simply stood in silence, unreadable.
---
> Elarion:
"Your training will begin today — under me."
His words landed like thunder.
> Ray (quietly):
"We're… being trained by you personally?"
Elarion gave a single nod.
---
> Elarion:
"Because what comes next… cannot be faced by children.
You must become more."
His gaze lingered on Lyrion and Veloria.
---
[EXT. RUINED WORLD – NIGHT – ZYREN'S DOMAIN]
The sky bled red across the broken lands of the old world.
Within the obsidian fortress of the Dark God's son, Zyren stood upon a tower surrounded by silence.
Below him, thousands of darkened beasts — shadow-spawned soldiers — trained in brutal silence.
---
His second-in-command, Veydrin, approached.
> Veydrin:
"Your orders, my lord?"
> Zyren (coldly):
"We wait."
Veydrin flinched — surprised.
> Zyren:
"Let them believe they are safe.
Let them sharpen their swords."
> "When I strike… it will be with armies the world forgot could exist."
He raised his hand.
A distant rumble echoed across the darkness — the sound of portals forming in deep abyssal caves.
Zyren closed his eyes, smiling faintly.
---
> Zyren (whispering):
"Let them prepare their little champions.
We're preparing gods of war."
---
[INT. ELITE TRAINING CHAMBER – SAME NIGHT]
The ten students stood in formation, breathing heavily.
They had trained all day — tested, pressured, pushed to limits they never knew existed.
Still, they stood.
Elarion observed them from the shadows, silent.
He saw their exhaustion —
but more importantly, he saw their growth.
---
> Elarion (thinking):
"Ten lights… forged in divine fire.
They may be the only hope we have."
He turned and exited the chamber, his cloak trailing behind like the edge of a rising dawn.
Outside, the sky shimmered with stars.
But even stars could not hide the storm gathering behind them.
---
TO BE CONTINUED...