POV: Kael Lanpar
Darkness covered everything. It was the only thing my eyes could perceive in that vast, formless void—soulless… perhaps even lifeless.
For some strange reason, my body felt different. My arms and legs, once small because of my age, had grown longer. The figure I now possessed resembled that of an adult.
My senses had also changed. Even the way I perceived things was no longer the same. A fatigue that wasn't mine coursed through me, as if I were dragging someone else's exhaustion.
I tried to stop when I realized I was walking unconsciously, but it was no use. My steps carried me forward into an unknown place. I had no control over myself.
The deeper I ventured into the darkness, the more a blinding light began to emerge. At the far end of that ethereal space, a silhouette awaited me.
A being of light.
It reminded me of Kraidir, dressed in pure white garments that dimmed the shadows. Between its fingers hung a scale.
Before I could approach the imposing divine figure, my body froze. I regained movement, only to discover with horror that I had no form. I could feel my limbs, feel my steps… yet I couldn't see them.
The angel looked at me. In its eyes lived a mixture of compassion and sorrow that left me bewildered. Its lips trembled, and the scale in its hand seemed far too heavy to bear.
Suddenly, blood began to pour from its eyes. With a hesitant gesture, it raised its hand toward me, pointing… or at least, that's what I thought.
Two white-hooded figures emerged from the remaining darkness. In their hands, they carried trays of gleaming gold.
Their stride was elegant, perfectly synchronized. Within seconds, they stood on either side of the being of light, which could no longer even remain standing.
"This is the fire of the soul and the life of love," one of them proclaimed. "He perished loving and grew by hating."
My eyes widened in horror as I saw the contents of the tray.
A heart, still beating.
"But… what is this?" I whispered in disbelief, as the angel's tears grew heavier.
The second figure spoke with a voice so terrifying it resonated throughout the entire place.
"These are the flames of false illusion and redemption. His promises ceased to be fulfilled, dying in disappointment and pain."
The tray was lifted, revealing another heart, beating with weaker force. The hooded figures took both hearts and placed them on the scale, raising it as if to show them to the world.
"These are the life components of a mother and a father," they declared in unison. "Here they lie, judged for disillusionment: Xavier Lanpar and Mabel Astrales."
I couldn't comprehend what I had just been told. I was staring, with my very own eyes, at the still-living hearts of my parents.
I couldn't endure it. I collapsed to my knees and vomited onto the ethereal ground, clutching my chest in despair, as if I could deny the undeniable.
My illusion shattered when I looked up. The hooded ones revealed their faces: eyeless, their mouths sewn shut… yet beneath that grotesque mask, the true features of my parents emerged.
"No… this can't be real!" I screamed with all my strength. "You're not dead, you're still with me!"
"No, Kael… they're not anymore," the angel replied. Its face shifted into mine. "We condemned them. We were their executioners."
"Forgive me…" it added, raising the scale even higher.
Paralyzed on the ground, I watched as that angel who mirrored me lost its head, which rolled until it landed before me. Its lips still whispered:
"Forgive me…"
(Reality)
"Nooooo!"
The scream erupted from the very depths of my soul. I awoke drenched in sweat, every drop sliding down my pale skin, chilled by terror.
I blinked hard and opened my eyes. I was in my room. It had all been a nightmare. My body still trembled, but little by little, it began to calm down.
I covered my face with my hands, trying to erase the images that haunted me. The scorching heat of the sun pouring through the window warmed my bare back, slowly bringing color back to my body.
It had been two years since I had left my homeland with my parents to come here. And even after all this time, their absence still terrified me.
It wasn't the first time I had dreamed of their deaths. It repeated over and over, like an endless film. Each scene different, but always with the same outcome.
"Young Kael, they await you in the training grounds," announced a voice from the other side of the door. "You know that Lord—"
"I know. I'm already awake," I interrupted the maid, sitting on the edge of the bed.
As I heard her footsteps fade away, I released the restrained sigh that was suffocating me. I still couldn't fully accept how suddenly my life had changed.
I had abandoned my kingdom to live in distant lands, reduced to nothing more than a bargaining chip, a living promise of peace between two races that despised each other to the death.
And though it had been my choice, I still doubted whether it was the right one. The memories of that day returned to me, revealing the reason behind my sacrifice.
(Two years earlier)
Shouts and curses echoed throughout the chamber. The tension was palpable on every face gathered around the massive table of the human council.
At one end sat my father; at the other, the king of the elves. Both argued with unyielding fervor.
Each faction tried in vain to calm the fury of their allies. Everyone sought to blame the other race, hurling accusations of responsibility for the death of the elven representative as if they were weapons.
"And what the hell are children doing here?" my grandfather bellowed, slamming his fist against the table. "Do you intend to use my grandson as an excuse for your Striker's betrayal, Darknight?"
"Father!" my mother snapped, striking his shoulder. "We're not here to fight, but to find a solution. Darknight is not accusing Kael."
I felt out of place. I carried Matías's memories, memories that told me I had witnessed a scene like this before… yet I still didn't know how to act.
Seated on a chair twice my size, I observed in silence while Kessie played with my hair. Everything was heating up too quickly.
The Strikers, Boro and his elven counterpart, glared at each other with hatred. Sparks of lightning and bursts of wind danced between their hands, spells ready to be unleashed at the slightest provocation.
"My daughter and Xavier's son are here for one reason only: they were the only witnesses present during Striker Ameria's attack," declared Darknight, his sharp gaze fixed on my grandfather.
My grandfather threw up his hands in frustration. But it was my father's firm voice that silenced the chaos.
"Enough! All of you!" he roared. "This is no time to stain your hands with blood, understood?"
Silence reclaimed the chamber.
One by one, the council members sat back down, calmer now, fearful of provoking my father's wrath again.
I turned my head toward Kessie. Her small body still trembled from the shouting and the uproar. She tried to distract herself by fiddling with my hair, as if she could erase what had just happened.
Seeing her like that gave me the strength I needed to speak. From deep within my chest came a voice, grave and commanding—the kind of voice that could bring anyone to their knees.
"Striker Ameria was working for someone else," I said firmly. "She was not acting under the orders of anyone here."
I pointed at Kessie.
"Her target was both of us. She didn't hesitate to hurt her… or to try to kill me."
A heavy silence spread as everyone pondered my words. If they were true, it meant an even more dangerous traitor existed, lurking in the shadows.
"How can we trust the mere words of a brat?" an elven soldier snarled, drawing his sword. "Your Majesty, this is—"
He didn't finish. The combined aura of my parents crashed down upon him like an invisible wall, forcing him to his knees, trembling with fear.
"If you dare to lay a finger on my son…" my mother threatened, her eyes blazing with fury, "I swear your head will roll across the cold graves of your ancestors."
The air grew suffocating, thick with hatred, until even I struggled to breathe. My father placed a calming hand on her shoulder, and little by little the lethal pressure subsided.
I inhaled deeply, reclaiming the oxygen I had lost. The others did the same, grateful that the overwhelming power had retreated.
"I believe the boy," said an unexpected voice. "The wounds they both bear confirm it. None of us were there, so we cannot deny his testimony."
"Finally using that brain of yours, Dirion!" my grandfather spat with disdain. "This makes it clear that the kidnapping of the elven princess had nothing to do with us."
"Who is he?" I asked, looking at the old man who had spoken.
"He's my grandfather…" Kessie whispered, shrinking with fear. "The former king of our realm. And… I don't think yours likes him very much."
The looks exchanged between the two elders carried the weight of enmity forged over decades. The scars on their faces spoke of past battles… and perhaps of losses that never healed.
(Present day)
That day, I was the one who stepped forward to calm the storm. I didn't do it seeking power—yet that was what ended up being offered to me.
Most likely, my grandfather will never forgive me for that choice… but what other option did I have?
It was either that, or dragging our kingdom into a useless war that would only worsen the chaos already spreading with the revolutionaries.
I finished dressing and strapped Crimson Gloom at my waist. Another day of training awaited me.
With a burst of wind beneath my feet, I sprinted through the halls of the elven castle, moving swiftly as I dodged servants and soldiers—each one carrying that same look of hatred that had haunted me since the very first day.
"One of these days, these elves will kill you before you even realize it," Vastiar whispered in my mind, his tone laced with irony. "You should be more cautious."
"That won't happen," I replied silently. "I'm under the protection of the elven king. His word carries more weight than any resentment."
Vastiar said no more. His role was fulfilled: to remind me of a danger I already knew all too well.
As I descended the vast staircase toward the courtyard—or rather, Dirion's garden—a sphere of water struck me full in the face, halting me on the last step.
"How many times must I tell you the importance of punctuality?" Dirion growled, his irritation obvious. "Kael, you must take your training more seriously."
I sighed, water dripping down my drenched face. I grimaced—this old man never let me rest for a single second.
With a snap of my fingers, I summoned a light breeze. The air caressed my skin, drying most of the water as I advanced toward my master.
"I overslept," I admitted, following him. "I haven't been able to rest properly lately."
The elder, with those pointed ears that had always seemed strange to me, smirked with that same malicious grin he wore before reminding me of every torment within his infernal training.
Passing through the vast entrance of the courtyard, we were greeted by the soft sunlight illuminating the space. The air was filled with freshness, accompanied by the harmony of plants and wild creatures resting in peace.
At the far end, seated cross-legged atop a rock, was Kessie, more focused than usual. Around her, multiple elements—water, earth, and wind—danced in perfect balance, moving as if they obeyed her will.
She had grown a lot, and with that growth came a change in her once shy and reserved demeanor. Unfortunately, she had lately become a genuine nuisance.
"Well then, since you arrived late and my time is short, we'll have a little duel," Dirion declared, removing his robe.
"Don't you think it's a little early for this?" I retorted.
He didn't answer. His silence was confirmation that I had no choice.
Suddenly, the massive roots of the trees surrounding the area began to rise, weaving into a living dome of branches and leaves that sealed us off from the outside world.
Sunlight filtered in faint beams, casting a somber atmosphere, illuminated only by the occasional glimmers slipping through the gaps.
"Very well, Kael, prove to me you're no longer useless," the old man mocked. "I won't hold back."
"Neither will I," I muttered under my breath.
Magic surged through me, flowing from my veins to my mind, wrapping me in that addictive power as my mana channels awakened. With a subtle movement, I took my battle stance, tilting my head forward, waiting for the right moment to strike.
The ground trembled, giving me the signal. Without hesitation, I activated Gale Step and leapt backward, narrowly evading the roots that erupted like blades seeking to cut me down.
Landing firmly, I launched myself straight at Dirion, who watched me with insolence, as if he already knew my every move.
Around me, the wind condensed into sharp spikes that shot forward at terrifying speed. Yet before they could reach him, the roots intercepted them.
I was forced to dive across the grass, barely avoiding a whip of vines that lashed out from nowhere.
Regaining my footing, I pressed on. I drew Crimson Gloom, pointing it forward, and used its blade to sever two massive roots that tried to ensnare me.
"Continental Destruction!" I roared.
The ancestral power coursed through my weapon, forged upon an unbreakable promise, extending until it enveloped my entire arm.
Crimson flames fused with my skin, releasing a heat that vaporized most of the roots, even consuming the dome that had sealed us in.
I was about to reach Dirion when I felt a sharp impact against my back. My target was no longer there.
A bitter smile crossed my lips as I watched the figure before me dissolve into the wind. A mere trick had been enough to defeat me.
"What kind of magic is that?" I demanded, breathless from the exertion. "Since when can you craft illusions with wind?"
"Since astral magic can be molded, Kael," he answered with disappointment, shaking his head. "When will you learn never to let your guard down?"
"I don't think he ever will," a feminine voice interjected.
As I turned my gaze, I saw Kessie, who had just finished her training. Her tired eyes and the slight trembling in her body made it clear.
She sat down beside me with a faint, shared smile—just as exhausted as I was, though her struggle had been more mental than physical.
Thus two years had passed since I arrived in this place, transforming my life completely in the pursuit of what I longed to achieve.
Still, in my mind, I could see the face of Matías. His mere presence within those shared memories unsettled me to my core. I knew he would return soon, and though I wished not to waste time chasing the ambition of power, the current situation demanded it of me.
I wasn't the only one preparing. The troops of every kingdom in Mayora were mobilizing, raising camps in no man's lands and disembarking armies. Everyone sensed the same truth: a war was coming… though no one yet knew against what enemy.
And I… if I want to protect the happiness of those around me, I must keep that mindset of pursuing power, even knowing it is not the best path.
For my parents.
For my new family.
I will sacrifice what the past could never offer: my very soul, in exchange for the lives of others.