POV: Matías Castleboard
(A Memory from the Past)
I could feel my entire body burning under the infernal heat that dominated the area. Radiation blanketed most of that Asian country—once renowned for its power—while the perpetual ashes of an unyielding fire choked what little air remained.
I struggled to hold my weapon. The sword I had once raised countless times in honor of my ideals now felt as heavy as a mountain.
Gasping for even a trace of oxygen to keep me standing, my gaze swept across a battlefield where death called to me from every corner.
"Champion Castleboard, watch out!" one of my allies shouted, as the crash of metal spared my neck from a fatal blow. "We need you… now!"
With my strength waning, I drove the sword into the ground and leaned on it. I felt the warm, reddish liquid slide down across my eyes.
And then, with barely a word, everything changed.
I spoke it so softly that only my own consciousness could hear it.
"Calur…"
(Time Stops)
I fell to my knees. The cold of that plane—my own domain—enveloped me. I lifted my gaze and saw the flames, cut through by motionless crows frozen in time, still seeking carrion among the fallen.
All I could do was press on, completing yet another mission… one that brought me a step closer to my own ruin.
I clenched my teeth with relentless force. Pushing against my knee, I slowly rose, retrieving my sword and lifting with it the dirt that clung to its blade.
I swung it from side to side as I walked. The heads of my enemies rolled—yet never touched the ground. They hung suspended, awaiting my command to fall.
"Calur…"
(Time Resumes)
It was only a whisper, but enough to unleash strangled screams and the sound of bodies collapsing across the battlefield.
In mere seconds, the scene had changed. My men, witnesses to the massacre I had orchestrated, cried out to the sky with such force that for a moment I thought the ground itself trembled.
"Keep fighting—don't stop!" I roared, raising my sword to continue the battle.
I don't know if it was Calur's effect or if my body had simply grown accustomed to time's slowed rhythm, but with each step I could see every detail of the war.
Watching my soldiers fall beneath enemy blades… hearing their sobs as they embraced their loved ones… all of it gave me more strength, reminding me of every moment of my life, layered one over another like the fading memory of a lost peace.
I tightened my grip on the hilt and hurled my sword at an enemy, locking eyes with him in burning hatred.
Our blades met, and the metallic ring spread through the field, mingling with the echo of hundreds of other clashes—men fighting for a cause none of them were willing to abandon.
(End of Memory)
POV: Kael Lanpar
Sparks from an unquenchable fire lit up the dark night, born from the clash of two swords held by combatants waiting—patiently yet fiercely—for the victor of their duel.
Through the window and into the royal castle's courtyard—where fireflies danced—I saw my sister locking blades in a friendly match against a royal guard.
It had been a long time since the attack on Luzarion, and much had changed… including my own days, once drowned in despair, seeking shelter within the confines of my own mind.
I had found light. Faint, yes… but strong enough to keep me alive. After so long, I had started walking again. And, though it might sound stupid—because it is—when my legs regained their strength, many doors opened before me.
"Damn it, you used magic!" Mayrei shouted from her position. "It was supposed to be a sword fight only!"
"Do you think an enemy would care about that?" the guard replied.
I watched as my sister hurled her sword to the ground in fury before storming off. The royal guard picked it up calmly and, in silence, lifted his gaze toward the stars.
"I wonder who he is," I whispered in such a childlike voice that, for a moment, even I didn't recognize myself.
"Damn… he saw me," I muttered to the air, quickly pulling back from the window.
For an instant, I thought his eyes had met mine. Even as a child carrying an adult's memories, I recognized that cold stare immediately.
I didn't feel fear when he almost discovered me, but those lifeless pupils and that worn expression spoke for themselves. He was someone I wasn't ready to meet—not yet.
With a slowness comparable to a turtle's, I crouched down and sat on the chair where I had been standing moments before. I picked up the pillow I had used to peek outside and let it drop to the floor.
Perhaps… just perhaps… the reason I didn't collapse during the attack was because of my new family.
I had longed so desperately to have one again that, no matter how many traumas I carried, I couldn't waste the chance to feel that warmth once more. I was so starved for affection that I no longer even knew what I truly wanted.
I leapt, landing on the pillow and feeling the softness of the bird feathers inside. Even though I was a bit taller now, the fall was still considerable without protection.
A small spiral of fire formed in my hand. Lying there on the pillow, I still doubted my choices, mesmerized by the searing heat and the flames dancing in my palm.
My dream had always been to rest… to live in peace, in a place where I wouldn't have to feel again. Because with everything I had gone through, I had come to learn that living, in part, was a sentence.
The strange thing is, I don't know how I ended up accepting Kraidir's words without uttering a single one of my own.
I had set my dreams aside because of my emotions… those which, deep down, still yearned to live one more life.
Magic… I wanted to find the answer to this world through it, but all I discovered was that I was still trapped in a fantasy tale.
(Memory)
For a time, my parents were so absorbed in their duties as king and queen that I stopped seeing them for quite a while. Back then, Lilia was still with me.
She believed that when I fell asleep, she would finally get some rest… yet she always ended up dozing off by my side, rocking gently in the wooden chair of my parents' chamber.
I never wasted those moments—and I never would. Perhaps it was time itself that taught me patience, that made me memorize the soldiers' patrol schedules.
After the attack, during the castle's reconstruction, I discovered the royal library: an immense hall filled with books, some floating, others resting on shelves that covered every corner. It was a direct path to understanding this world.
When the time came, I would quietly open the door and run—or at least try to, given the slow pace of this body—straight into the library.
"I still don't understand how an owl can talk," I said, meeting the eyes of the creature that came to greet me.
"Your Majesty, what brings you to the royal library today?" it asked, placing its talons gently on my small shoulder. "Do your parents know you're here?"
"Yes, my parents sent me to study, Yako," I replied, walking among the shelves. "Do you have any knowledge about the magic that governs this place?"
The silent beating of Yako's wings was his only answer. From the top of a towering shelf, a book floated down and landed in my arms.
Astral Magic: Mastery and Basic Use.
"So that's what this type of magic is called," I murmured, studying the cover. The words surrounding the title left me puzzled.
What were the odds that I had ended up in a world where they spoke my language? Surely it was another tongue entirely. I had never seen it before—not even in my past life.
I opened the book and, without hesitation, dove into the first pages, devouring each word with restless curiosity.
Excerpt from the Astral Codex – Chapter II: On Mana and the Elements
Mana is the invisible breath that sustains Mayora. Every being that feels carries it, and every being that lives breathes it. Without it, matter crumbles and the light of the moon fades.
Astral magic is born when the will of the mage intertwines with their purest… or darkest emotions. One who understands their own feelings can shape mana and, through their core, give it tangible form.
There are five primary elements: Fire, Earth, Air, Electricity, and Water. Each responds to different impulses:
Fire burns with passion, courage, and anger.
Earthgrounds itself in patience, steadfastness, and determination.
Airdances with freedom, curiosity, and change.
Electricityvibrates with emotion, tension, and swiftness of thought.
Waterflows with calm, empathy, and adaptability.
(I closed the book.)
My thoughts crowded in, tangled with one another. With a trace of irony, I realized that the inner force which had dragged me into this world was tied more to magic than to anything else.
I took a deep breath, trying to understand how something so basic to us humans could not only generate magic… but also give rise to so many variations.
"Does Your Majesty need help understanding the book?" Yako asked, staring at me with his round, curious eyes. "If you require anything, don't hesitate to ask."
"I do need something, Yako," I replied with a smile. "I want to know how I can use magic."
(End of Memory)
At that time, I was barely a year old… and I nearly reincarnated again. Well… if such a thing was even possible.
Yako had become something like a teacher to me. I know—it sounds ridiculous, a talking owl as a mentor.
But truthfully, despite having a smaller brain than ours, he taught with such clarity that, within days, I managed to conjure a spiral of fire.
I clenched my fist, extinguishing the flame, and rose from the floor. On tiptoe, I walked toward the door, glancing both ways. I saw no one.
Without thinking, I slipped out and shut the door quietly behind me.
"I'm only saying it might be a good idea for Kael to start learning more," my father's voice, distant but clear, cut through my plan of escape. It forced me to crouch down and hide behind an armchair.
"Xavier, listen to yourself…" my mother interrupted firmly. "He's a child! He's barely two years old!"
"You promised me we wouldn't burden our children with what we had to endure," she added, now raising her voice. That shout coursed through me like a shiver.
Her voice… it was breaking. I could feel it. And I understood.
One thing I knew for certain—thanks to my former parents—was that a father's duty isn't only to protect, but also to give their children what they themselves never had.
"I'm not saying this as a king… but as a father," he said, his voice trying to sound steady though it trembled beneath the surface. "And forgive me if it sounds cruel… but there are no moments of peace."
"Our generation has lived it firsthand," he went on, his tone fading little by little.
I saw him place his hands on my mother's shoulders, trying to console her. It was obvious this would end in an argument… an unnecessary one.
So I decided to put on the mask of the tender child… and defuse the emotional bomb.
I stepped slowly out of hiding, letting the moonlight spilling through the window bathe my figure and reveal my presence.
My parents saw me instantly. They weren't first-timers; they knew exactly how to react.
"Papa, Mama? Are you fighting?" I asked in a soft, trembling voice, with just the right touch of innocence and fragility, as if I were on the verge of tears.
I know… it was a little exaggerated. But necessary. I didn't want to see my new family fall apart before my eyes. Not if I could help it.
"Of course not," my father said immediately, softening his expression as he looked at my mother. "We were only having an adult conversation. What are you doing awake at this hour, little one?"
"It's just… I couldn't sleep," I said, rubbing my eyes with a feigned drowsiness.
I walked over and hugged them tightly. I didn't want to let go. Maybe it was the echo of my soul urging me to do it… but honestly, it felt good.
"Where's Mai?" I asked, lifting my gaze.
"She's in her room," my mother replied, tenderness in her eyes as she gently stroked my head.
Suddenly, my father pulled away softly from the embrace, knelt before me, and looked me straight in the eyes.
His pupils were weary… yet within them still burned that unshakable determination. The determination of a king. The determination of a father.
"Kael… son… you know this is a dangerous world," he said, taking my hand.
My mother tried to interrupt, but he gave her a sorrowful glance. There was no anger in it, only nostalgia. Then he looked back at me.
"Soon, this legacy… this kingdom… will fall into your hands," he continued. "You will have to be the pillar and the guide for those who seek the light of peace."
He paused, letting his words sink in. I felt my hands grow cold, remembering that once, I had already been a false guide.
"You won't do this out of honor, or out of obligation… but for the simple and pure reason of love," his voice faltered, barely holding together. "One day you will understand… and I want you to be ready."
"What do you mean, Father?" I asked, trying to read beyond his expressions.
"I mean that, from today onward, you will be the writer of your own destiny," he said, rising to his feet. "This is the beginning of something new… but also something extraordinary. You will train, and you will learn."
His words did not sound like an imposition. They were a promise… and also a warning.
This time, the world wasn't entirely forcing me to grow strong.
This time, I had the choice to do it of my own will, though… the result would still be the same.
Power is cruel. It's ugly to say, but… life is not for the weak.
Life is for those who have the courage to carry their own story.
I was never afraid of death.
I was afraid of reliving… those moments of pain.
Humans are born for this—it is our curse… and our redemption.
"I understand, Father," I said, with a feigned emotion. "You want me to grow strong… like you, don't you?"
My father's gaze was different from my mother's. In his, I saw pride and hope.
I wish I could have said the same about my mother's tearful eyes… but within them lived only a single word: pain.
Between two worlds raising the same sword—one for vengeance, and the other for redemption—I had two paths before me… and I could still choose.
Only, I don't know if I'll be able to endure… losing them again.