[ In the dwelling of Hope ]
Nightfall draped the sky in muted shades, and one by one, they rose from their brief rest. The time had come to gather once more, beneath the fading light, to speak of the journey that awaited them.
As they stepped into the great hall, the world itself seemed to unfold above them. The glass canopy revealed the vast sky of Zephyrios, strewn with constellations unlike any known to mortal lands—spirals of silver fire, rivers of pale blue light flowing between scattered stars. Each shimmer carried the impression of ancient secrets, as though the heavens themselves leaned closer to witness their resolve.
The fire crackled softly, a fragile warmth against the vast silence of the world around them. Faces turned toward one another, expectant, carrying both weariness and resolve. Their voices, hushed yet steady, wove plans for the road ahead.
And yet—fate seldom waits for plans to be drawn.
For as they walked into the dimming dusk, their path shifted without warning. In the stillness between shadows and stars, they stumbled upon a presence unexpected.
There, as if woven out of night itself, stood Inannael—a striking woman of mysterious grace, her beauty veiled in the quiet power she exuded. An aura of elegance and unspoken authority surrounded her, the bearing of one long accustomed to guiding others, to taking hold of destiny with steady hands.
________
Who is she, and why is she here? That was the thought running through everyone's mind as they beheld her. Yet they calmed themselves quickly: the master of this house would not be ignorant of someone of such stature.
Silent and observant, Hana Takeda realized immediately that this woman, with her majestic aura, must be a goddess. Whether she would be an ally or an adversary would depend on their perceptions… and the choices they made in their interactions.
Her voice, soft yet imbued with authority, resonated through the hall:
"Greetings, mortals. I am the goddess of war, conflict, unjust causes, and death. I watch over both the noble souls and the fallen. My divine name is Inannael, but you may call me Ina or Nael."
After her introduction, Clayton stepped forward. His tone was polite, never veering into excessive humility nor disrespect:
"Greetings, goddess Inannael. I am Clayton, and these are my companions: Hana, Adam, and Sophia. We are guests of Lord Elyon, and we were not aware that another deity would be present in his house. Please forgive our lack of formal courtesy, as we have traveled far. In our land, God does not manifest before mortals, for we are too humble to withstand such majesty."
"Interesting. I would like to meet such a god. But I am not here to see a colleague—I have come for you.
I know your origins. There is no need for worry, for I am acquainted with Elyon, and I will aid you."
Hearing her speak, declaring that she had come for them specifically, panic briefly seized the group.
That is, until her words reassured them, speaking of the god of hope and the assistance she could provide.
Sofia, a little intimidated by the foreign goddess, spoke up:
"We are honored by your presence, but what is your purpose, or your desire, in approaching us? Although Elyon tells us that we represent the hope to change things, we remain skeptical of such a claim."
Adam also intervened:
"What makes us unique? We are mere mortals. In our world, we could not even change things. Why would it be any different here?"
His words were realistic, tinged with the disillusionment of someone weary of false hopes and a rosy world.
When Clayton heard Adam speak in such a way, he realized the boy was not ordinary. Even without being a soldier or having seen war firsthand, it was clear he had glimpsed the harsh realities of life.
The goddess was amused by Adam's words. A small, mocking smile curved her lips.
Hana noticed the enjoyment in her expression.
This goddess is dangerous for us, she thought. She must be one of those who takes pleasure in watching others overwhelmed by the cruelty of the world.
The Japanese woman's mind flashed to a similar person she had encountered in her line of work.
Before Hana could sink deeply into her memories, Inannael's voice pulled her back to reality.
"The reason for my coming is that I am curious about your thoughts on the task that has been assigned to you. What I am certain of is that you wish to return home."
The goddess spoke with calm assurance, leaving the group momentarily speechless. Clayton and the others exchanged glances, surprised by the intense curiosity radiating from her.
Adam's mind raced with a thousand questions: What could this information serve? A divine whim? Or might they have a role in her plans? He needed to understand her intent—and find a way to turn it to their advantage.
Then, inexplicably, a calm washed over him. His thoughts sharpened, and he focused on the best way to communicate with the goddess and make use of the moment.
Inannael, watching Adam from the corner of her eye, gave a broad smile. The strangeness of mortal reactions no longer surprised her.
Adam then turned to his companions and spoke in a steady voice:
"Everyone, I think we can find a way to come to terms with the goddess. Can you trust me?"
Clayton and the two women exchanged a glance, then nodded. It seemed wise to at least try, especially with the confidence Elyon inspired in them. Perhaps he was watching over them even now.
"All right, but don't be as impulsive as before. We are no longer in our old world."
Sofia cast an anxious look at Adam, worried he might let his emotions get the better of him. Losing his brother must have left its mark… she thought, seeing him almost like a little brother, a child caught in events far beyond his years.
"Thank you for your trust. I won't act foolishly; I just want to find more possible paths."
Adam reassured his companions, then turned to the goddess with a slight, polite bow:
"Lady Inannael, I will attempt to satisfy your curiosity. We are uncertain about the task that lies ahead. From our perspective, it seems absurd that a matter affecting the entire world would be entrusted to strangers. Moreover, we are mere mortals, unaware of the political landscape or the order of your world."
Inannael regarded Adam with an expression that was both amused and calculating. Her eyes seemed to pierce through the veils of his thoughts, as though she could weigh every hidden intention.
"Your honesty is… refreshing," she said softly, yet each word carried a weight that made the air around them feel heavier. "Most mortals would tremble or offer empty words in my presence. You, however, think, calculate… and yet, you do not yet understand the magnitude of what is before you."
Adam held her gaze, sensing both a challenge and an unspoken invitation. His pulse quickened slightly, but the calm he had felt moments before remained. He realized that hesitation would betray weakness—and that weakness could be fatal in front of a goddess who dealt in war, conflict, and death.
Inannael stepped forward, the faint glow of the hall's fire reflecting in her eyes, giving them an almost otherworldly luminescence. "I have observed you," she continued, her voice barely a whisper, yet cutting through the silence with precision.
"I know that you are mortals. Yet I do not underestimate you, for humans in our world have accomplished great feats, and I am therefore confident in the divine power of Elyon. But I am also aware of something rare in you: the unknown and uncertainty, the spark that defies mere chance, the potential to shape events you barely comprehend."
The goddess knew that Elyon was not a god of overwhelming offensive power, but he held a certain potential in his authority—and even he was unaware of the full extent of his own abilities.
Summoning strangers merely because divine power deemed them necessary for the god of Hope's task required insight beyond what appeared on the surface.
Inannael realized that there was more to this matter than what met the eye.
"In the end, do not overestimate yourselves, for you are both the expected and unexpected chosen of Elyon. You may succeed just as easily as you may fail. And you are also among the few who interest me and have the potential to provide me with amusement."
The goddess' words left the group in stunned silence, pushing them into deep reflection about their quest.
In other words, they represented both the possibility of success and the risk of failure.
Adam straightened, his mind racing through every possibility. This is not mere curiosity, he thought.
"Pardon me, but may we know your purpose? What do you hope to gain by approaching us, if I may not be too bold?"
At last, Adam voiced the question that had been weighing on their hearts.
Inannael's gaze softened just enough to hint at amusement, though the intensity of her presence remained undeniable. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips.
"I wish to be surprised. I long for miracles that surpass even the divine.
My sincerest desire is to witness the greatest chaos the universe can endure.
If you accept my aid, I will grant you a portion of my power. The knowledge and structure of our world's order will be yours—purely objective, untainted by my influence.
I ask nothing of your morals, but allow me to be a witness. Share with me your most intimate thoughts.
To seal my sincerity, I am prepared to forge a divine pact with all four of you.
And there is more. I possess a token that may intrigue you greatly, my boy. This matter concerns only you and me."
A stunned silence fell over the group. The weight of her words pressed on their hearts, each member acutely aware that every choice from this moment could tip the balance—between hope and failure, between the unknown and the whims of a goddess.
The goddess watched them patiently, yet her gaze was sharp, piercing, like a fire pressing against its prey, urging them to respond.
"I can give you time to think carefully. Confer among yourselves and give me your answer by tomorrow morning. Though I am impatient, I prefer a considered response. Do not worry—I shall not turn against you should you refuse me."
Her expression returned to the cold, commanding composure she had worn at the start.
Elegantly, she made her way to her chamber, passing by them with a smile that suggested this matter barely concerned her.
Once her footsteps faded from sight, Sofia and Hana exhaled in relief.
"Phew." "Phew."
Clayton looked at Adam with admiration and relief.
"You handled that well, Adam. I admit I am slower than you; your intelligence is formidable. If only we could return home, you could become an excellent politician or military strategist."
Surrounded by Clayton's praise and the admiration of the two women, Adam remained silent.
Only after the goddess had left did he realize the strangeness of his own composure.
What happened to me? he wondered. I felt… strangely rational, as if my impulsiveness had vanished, replaced by flawless discernment.
Clayton's hand on his shoulder reminded Adam that someone was speaking to him.
"Forgive me. I think something strange just happened to me. We've only just met, so you wouldn't notice—but the composure I just showed isn't normal for me. It felt as though I'd been drugged… forced into calm, into clearer thought."
His words left Clayton and the two women stunned.
It was, in truth, the first supernatural sign to come from one of their own.
Clayton was the first to recover, turning to the women.
"What do you think? Does this mean he's usually impulsive but restrained? Do either of you have an idea what could be happening to him?"
Hana was the first to answer.
"I don't have the explanation for this state, but… it may be that Adam is simply in shock, still traumatized by the loss of his brother. Perhaps it's changed him—even if the loss was recent."
The Japanese woman did not realize how close her answer was to the truth.
Adam had changed far more than it seemed. It was not only the wound of losing his brother, but something deeper.
Deep within his soul, a faint light shimmered—a light that only the gods of death and of souls could see.
"Well, since Elyon noticed nothing, perhaps it's simply the trauma of losing your brother. It must have changed you—made you calmer.
Your brother would want nothing to happen to you, so it's natural to be more cautious."
Sofia offered Adam a comforting smile. It was the only explanation they could grasp. None of them were versed in psychology, so they couldn't give a proper diagnosis for his condition.
Adam gave a bitter smile.
"Thank you, miss. Perhaps you're right. My brother reminded me to be wiser in times of crisis."
The young Frenchwoman nodded, then turned to the others.
"Then, it's time we got to know each other better.
I'm Sofia Leclaire, twenty-seven years old. I'm a student and an environmental activist, from Lyon, France. Your turn."
Hana stepped forward.
"All right. I'm Hana Takeda, thirty-five. I run a bookstore, and I'm from Osaka, Japan."
"I'm Clayton Rumray, forty-six years old. I'm a retired U.S. Special Forces soldier who became a philanthropist, and I come from Columbus, Ohio, USA. I never imagined I'd be part of a story like this."
Then it was Adam's turn. He hesitated, his voice carrying both determination and a hint of sorrow.
"I am Adam Mohamed, fifteen years old. I was preparing for my Lower Secondary School Certificate, or GCSE. I am from Moroni, in the Comoros archipelago."
« Now that we've become better acquainted, it's time to set our priorities for the days ahead. » Sofia reminded the group.
"Since you are our leader, what do you suggest, Mr. Clayton?" asked Sophia, steering the discussion toward their group's head.
Clayton adjusted his glasses and took a moment before speaking, his tone calm but firm.
"First, we should meet Elyon tomorrow. We need to understand the history of this world and the forces at play. Knowledge is our foundation.
"Next, since we're in a fantastical world, we will need power to achieve our objectives. That will come with Elyon's guidance and the support of his allies.
"But we cannot allow ourselves to be dazzled by novelty or distracted by the strange wonders of this world. If we want to return home safely, we must stay focused."
"Yes!" the group responded in unison, the shared desire to return home solidifying into a steadfast resolve.
They all carried the weight of their personal lives—families, friends, dreams, and regrets that could not be ignored.
Clayton's gaze swept over them, serious but reassuring.
"One more thing. We must be careful with these gods. We cannot afford to be used as pawns—or to risk our lives unnecessarily. Discipline and prudence will be as important as strength and skill."
Hana nodded thoughtfully. "Agreed. We need to understand the rules before we act. Patience will be our ally."
Sophia added, her voice steady, "And we must trust each other. Only together can we survive this world and fulfill what Elyon expects of us."
Adam, feeling a surge of determination, clenched his fists. "Then let's prepare ourselves. No more hesitation—we face this world together."
Clayton gave a slight, approving smile. "Exactly. Together, we are stronger than any challenge we may encounter. Remember that."
With a shared nod, the four Chosen silently reaffirmed their commitment. Their journey was only beginning, and the road ahead demanded courage, wisdom, and unity.
The four Chosen returned to their rooms, each preparing for the challenges that awaited them the next day.
As they settled in, Elyon appeared silently within the chamber, a gentle smile gracing his features.
"Fortunately, these children have awakened," he murmured to himself. "Now they possess the determination to see their journey through. If this determination is properly channeled, it can be useful—enough to help carry out our plans to save Astra. Yet Inannael is right; caution remains essential. I must also ensure that they do not fall into despair, for if they do, their hopelessness could spread across the world."
The god's smile faded as he pondered how best to guide them, fully aware that the children were not naive.
He did not wish to deceive them—but he also accepted as fact that returning home was likely impossible.
"Let them grow attached to this world," he continued thoughtfully. "Clayton is cautious, as always, but Adam has shown remarkable wisdom and courage. The boy is still young, still immature, yet his potential is extraordinary."
–––––––––
The next morning, the soft light of Zephyrios filtered through the crystal panels, casting gentle patterns across the floor of the divine hall. The four Chosen entered together, their steps tentative yet determined, hearts pounding with anticipation.
Elyon awaited them at the small altar, kneeling as before. His serene presence seemed to radiate from the very air around him, calming yet commanding attention. As they approached, he rose gracefully, his gaze sweeping over each of them in turn.
"Welcome, Chosen," he said, his voice calm and warm, yet carrying an authority that seemed to make the hall itself listen. "I hope you're fully awake. Now, tell me—what are your requests?"
Adam exchanged a glance with Clayton, Hana, and Sophia. Though the weight of Elyon's words was immense, a spark of determination lit within each of them.
Clayton stepped forward first, his tone measured and respectful. "Lord Elyon, we are honored to be chosen. But we must confess—this world, its rules, and its perils are entirely unknown to us. How can we act wisely in a place so unfamiliar?"
Elyon's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "That is why you are not alone. Guidance will be given, knowledge shared—but always tempered with choice. Your decisions will shape the outcome, for even divine will cannot dictate the hearts of mortals."
Sofia raised her hand slightly. "We wish to understand this world fully: its histories, powers, and forces at play… We cannot act wisely without comprehension."
"Indeed," Elyon agreed, nodding. "Soon, Inannael will return with some friends. You shall begin to learn the foundations—the story of Astra, its people, its struggles. But remember this: knowledge alone is not power. Courage, judgment, and unity will determine whether you succeed."
Hana's gaze lingered on the god, her quiet voice carrying her resolve. "We will do our best. We want to return home, but we also want to act rightly here. We will not allow ourselves to be pawns."
Elyon's eyes softened, as if reading their intentions clearly. "Your caution honors me. Yet remember, even careful hearts may face chaos. Trust in your instincts, in one another, and in the light you carry within. That light is your greatest strength."
Adam swallowed hard, taking a step forward. "Then we are ready to begin. We wish to learn, to grow, and… to find a way home, if it exists."
Elyon's gaze lingered on the young boy, a flicker of divine curiosity in his eyes. "Very well, Adam Mohamed. Let your journey begin—not just across the lands of Astra, but within yourselves. Only by understanding who you truly are can you hope to shape the world."
The morning sunlight filtered softly through Zephyrios' crystalline ceiling, spilling gentle rays across the hall. The four Chosen remained close together, their minds still occupied by Inannael's words from the previous day. The thought of gods, power, and unknown forces made their hearts beat faster—but it also reminded them of their own inexperience.
Clayton spoke first, adjusting his glasses. "We've been shown glimpses of this world's potential, but we know very little. The knowledge ahead… it could be vital. If we ignore it, we risk making mistakes we cannot undo."
Adam nodded, frowning in thought. "I understand. Whatever we learn here, we'll need to use it carefully. One misstep could… could make things much worse. Not just for us, but for anyone caught up in this world."
Hana's gaze wandered to the crystalline ceiling, where the light shimmered like liquid. "Even the smallest detail here could matter. If we're careless, if we assume we understand something too soon… the consequences could be severe."
Sophia added quietly, "We're far from home, with no real experience in this world. We'll need guidance, and we must pay attention to every lesson. There's no room for negligence."
The four of them discussed practical matters quietly: how to remember details, how to observe without jumping to conclusions, how to rely on each other's strengths. Every word carried an awareness of the gravity of their task—without presuming that they already held the reins of destiny.
Two hours passed slowly. They moved through the hall, examined its subtle details, and spoke in low tones, preparing themselves mentally for the arrival of the gods. Every conversation was careful, every step measured. The excitement of discovery mingled with the tension of responsibility—they were aware that mistakes might have consequences far beyond what they could yet imagine.
Then, the hall shifted subtly. A soft, melodic chime echoed, and light bent in new patterns, forming two figures emerging from the shimmer of the air.
The first was a serene man, robes flowing like liquid light. He exuded wisdom and knowledge, carrying the sense of countless ages. "I am Tamiel, guardian of history, wisdom, and knowledge. I have come to witness your journey and ensure you gain the understanding you will need."
Next appeared a radiant woman, her presence humming with the subtle energy of magic itself. "I am Astéria," she said, her voice melodic and steady. "I oversee the arcane currents that flow through this world. I am here to observe and guide when necessary."
For a long moment, silence fell. The four Chosen felt the weight of divine presence—but not in a way that made them feel invincible. Instead, it reminded them that the world of Astra was vast, complex, and that their understanding was just beginning.
Tamiel inclined his head slightly. "We shall remain with you until the afternoon. Reflect, converse, and prepare yourselves. What you observe now will matter when your lessons begin."
Astéria's eyes glimmered faintly. "Knowledge will be essential. Neglect it at your peril, but do not mistake guidance for mastery. The world is not yours to command—yet."
The Chosen exchanged glances, a mixture of awe, apprehension, and determination. They understood: the path ahead required humility, attentiveness, and preparation. Not heroism. Not fate-changing choices. Just learning—and surviving.
The four Chosen still stood in the great hall, their breaths caught as they faced the imposing presence of Tamiel and Astéria. They had never imagined that their teachers would take the form of true deities, rather than mere human mentors. The sense of intimidation was tangible, mingled with a quiet curiosity and the awareness that what they were about to learn would be neither simple nor predictable.
Soon, their lessons would begin. They would come to understand the world they had entered—its histories and laws, the natural and political forces that governed it, and the subtleties of power that shaped every event. How they would respond to these teachings, whether they would adapt with ease or struggle, only time would tell.
Tamiel and Astéria remained still, watching with a calm almost beyond mortal comprehension, as if gauging the slightest flicker of nervousness or spark of curiosity. Their presence, though silent, filled the hall with a subtle tension, heralding the learning that was about to commence.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Hello, dear reader,
You have just crossed the thresholds of Zephyrios and met the deities who will guide our four Chosen. Their lessons are only beginning, and the mysteries of Astra await discovery. Prepare yourself, for the teachings to come may surprise our heroes as much as they will surprise you.