Absolute silence.
Not the silence of sleep, nor of death, but an empty void... without color, without contour.
Kaelios floated. Or rather, he was. A formless mass, a spirit trying to remember what it meant to "live." Every thought was born and then dissolved in a shimmering mist, like fragments of memory refusing to assemble.
"Where... am I?"
No voice resonated. And yet, the echo existed. Inside. A consciousness responded.
Initial analysis... Vital status: stable. Material form: nonexistent. Current substrate: nebulous.
Central Unit activated. Name: Aeni.
Kaelios started—or what resembled it. A mechanical voice, soft but implacable, vibrated in his mind. Like a mirror of his own thoughts.
"Aeni...? Who... are you?"
Your assistant. A fragment of your Primal Will. My function: to analyze, guide, and protect.
He wanted to ask more, but a pang of pain shot through his essence. Visions surged: palaces of red stone, flags floating over sun-scorched lands, men in armor swearing fealty to a name... Kaelios. Then, screams. Flames. An endless fall.
"...I... I remember. I was... a king?" The images blurred, swallowed by the void.
Incomplete memory fragment. Access locked. The memories will return... with time.
Kaelios inhaled. Or at least, he imitated the gesture. And suddenly, the void vanished.
A Forest of Stars
Before his eyes, the darkness cracked. Luminous fissures opened the void, and he was projected out of the mist.
He fell.
The wind's breath whipped at his being until he crashed into an ocean of green.
When he got up, he was in a clearing. The sky above him was violet, streaked with shifting constellations, as if the stars were observing every step of mortals. The tall, twisted trees shone with natural runes pulsing with energy. The ground, itself, breathed softly, like a living heart.
"...Is this the world?" he murmured.
World identified: Aetherion.
Magical density: extremely high. Potential danger: high.
Before he could even think, the sound of crushed leaves echoed behind him.
The Encounter
A man appeared, wearing a green coat adorned with elven symbols. His silver hair flowed to his shoulders, and his vivid green eyes sparkled with curiosity. He carried an ancient wooden staff, cracked by time, but vibrant with energy.
"Hmm. This is surprising..." he said, approaching with a warm smile. "I've never seen a nebulous form manage to gain consciousness so quickly. Who are you, stranger?"
Kaelios remained silent. Aeni, in his mind, scrolled through calculations.
Individual identified. Race: Elf. Name: Lioran. Status: Non-hostile. Magical level: high.
"...I am Kaelios." The name came from his lips as if it were obvious.
Lioran raised an eyebrow, surprised. Then he burst out laughing. "That's a name that sounds like a king's. Well, Kaelios, welcome to Aetherion. This world is as magnificent as it is cruel. You shouldn't have awakened here alone... but maybe that's what destiny decided."
He held out his hand. Kaelios observed it for a long time, then accepted it.
At that moment, something changed. The mist that formed his body slightly condensed, taking on humanoid contours. A face emerged—still blurry, but already imbued with an ancient dignity.
First Danger
A roar suddenly split the clearing. The trees trembled, and a creature surged from the shadows: a massive beast, half-wolf, half-serpent, whose fangs dripped with a fluorescent green venom. Its scarlet eyes fixed on Kaelios.
Lioran stepped in front of him. "A minor Chimera... Tch. It shouldn't have come this close."
Kaelios felt his essence vibrate, and Aeni activated.
Alert. Combat is inevitable. Options: observe Lioran → acquire combat data. Attempt attack → risk of current form collapse.
The monster lunged. Lioran raised his staff, chanted a few words, and roots shot out of the ground, wrapping around the beast. It screamed, but the vines tightened until they crushed its bones.
Silence returned, punctuated only by the elf's calm breathing.
Lioran turned back to Kaelios, his eyes suddenly more serious. "You've just been born into this world, and already the darkness covets you. Kaelios, remember this well: Aetherion never gives anything by chance. If the Void has chosen you... then your destiny will be heavy."
Kaelios looked down at his half-formed hands. In his mind, Aeni whispered:
Destiny: unknown. But one thing is certain. You are not a simple traveler. You are the exception.
The wind died down. The runes on the trees quieted, as if reassured. Lioran wiped his staff against the bark, then cast a sideways glance at Kaelios.
"You're standing, that's something. Do you feel that pulse in the ground? The ancient forests of Aetherion breathe. They know when a new destiny has set foot here."
He paused, and then smiled. "Come. Staying in the open isn't a good idea."
They left the clearing on a narrow path. The foliage filtered a soft, almost silvery light. With each step, Kaelios felt his form stabilize—a silhouette still diaphanous, but no longer crumbling.
Active subsystem: Universal Memory.
Contextual extraction: forest topography, druidic essences, local fauna.
Status: incomplete—data being aggregated.
"Aeni," he whispered mentally, "can you... understand this world?"
Yes. Learning speed is exponential upon contact with stimuli. Advice: observe, test, iterate.
Lioran held out his hand to a flower with translucent petals. "Luminelle. It only blooms in the presence of... different souls."
Kaelios looked at it, fascinated. An intuition shot through him.
Command received: Divine Analysis → target: Luminelle.
A fine diagram opened in his consciousness: vital structure, mana circulation, nocturnal cycle, minor healing properties.
He blinked. "I... I understand what it is."
Lioran laughed softly. "You don't just have eyes, Kaelios. You have a vision. That is rare. And dangerous."
They walked for a long time. The path led to a gorge where a clear river flowed. An old root bridge crossed it, woven by the patient magic of druids.
In the middle of the bridge, a shiver ran through the air. Lioran stopped short. "Step back."
Dark silhouettes emerged from under the structure: Goures, mana scavengers. Three. Then five.
Alert. Hostility detected. Recommended option: minimal stabilization barrier.
Resource: Primal Will (restricted tier). Risk to form: low.
Kaelios raised his hand reflexively. His mist condensed into a diffuse blade of light... which immediately dissipated.
"Hn—"
Correction. No brute attack. Prioritize envelope stabilization.
He inhaled—mimicking a breath—and focused his will. A translucent film enveloped his silhouette: a veil of nothingness that absorbed the bite of the erratic mana.
The Goures leaped. Lioran struck the bridge with the end of his staff; rings of green runes spread and froze the predators in a cocoon of sap.
"Your turn, Kaelios. If you want to exist here, you have to want to exist."
There was no rage. No hatred.
Only a decision.
Kaelios's Primal Will pulsed. The drops of shadow that made up his form tightened into a clean hand. He placed two fingers against the nearest cocoon. The veil retracted into a fine, precise point that severed the parasitic mana link without injuring the flesh.
The Goures collapsed, inert but unharmed. The water resumed its song.
Lioran was silent for a moment... then he smiled broadly. "You weren't born to destroy. You were born to choose. I like that."
They crossed the river. On the other side, the forest opened onto a gentle slope where an immense old oak stood, hollowed out like a temple. Glass lanterns trembled from its branches.
"My refuge," Lioran said. "You'll be safe here while... you become yourself."
Inside, the air smelled of resin and ancient books. Maps covered with fine lines described valleys, passes, and ruins. On one of them, markers shone faintly—villages, paths, patrols.
Kaelios brushed the parchment. Data fragments flowed in.
Universal Memory: cartographic correlation → 73%. Update in progress.
Annotation detected: "territories of ancient elven sanctuaries—profaned."
"Lioran... why do I feel like this world is hiding from itself?"
The elf sat down, his gaze suddenly more serious. "Because it has to. The gods love to watch mortals fight over nothing. The elves... don't participate in that. So they called us an 'error.' We survive among the roots and the shadows."
A silence.
Kaelios felt something—a loyal warmth—being born within him. Not anger. A promise.
Internal note: orientation protocol established. Implicit objective: protection of the innocent.
Suggestion: build an identity anchor—name, intention, horizon.
"Aeni," he thought, "what am I... capable of doing now?"
Accessible abilities:
— Divine Analysis (high precision, short range).
— Primal Will (stabilization, micro-modeling, barrier).
— Universal Memory (learning, languages, patterns).
Lioran tossed him a loaf of bread and two round fruits. "Solve a first riddle: eating when you don't really have a body."
Kaelios stared at him, bewildered. The elf let out a clear laugh. "I'm kidding. Infuse the essence. You'll understand."
He placed his palm over the bread. His mist mingled with it in a thread of light; the nutritive energy separated from the rest, flowing like a stream of gentle warmth.
He smiled despite himself. "Easy."
"Be careful," Lioran replied with a wink. "'Easy' is the favorite word of the early dead."
Night fell. The sky vibrated with close, almost living stars. Kaelios, sitting on the threshold of the oak, watched the constellations move in intelligent patterns.
Far, far away, a silvery glow crossed the canopy like a sigh.
He didn't yet know that this reflection had a name.
But his heart—or what passed for it—remembered a softness he had never experienced.
Event marker: fluctuation of pure light. Probability: intervention of a higher principle—non-hostile.
Recommendation: observe, do not interact.
"Tomorrow," Lioran said from behind him, his voice soothed, "I'll teach you to walk for real, to hold a more stable form. And... I'll tell you why some of us dream of a place where no one would hunt us."
"A... kingdom?"
Lioran nodded, a sad glint in his eyes. "A refuge, first. The rest... will come."
The wind carried the scent of leaves and a distant rain.
Kaelios closed his eyes. In the darkness, an invisible throne was outlined, distant, patient. He did not try to approach it. Not yet.
He only murmured to himself, "I will exist. And I will choose."
The forest responded with a happy shiver.
Dawn filtered through the bark of the great oak in pale sheets. The refuge smelled of warm resin and paper.
"First lesson," Lioran said, pulling a bell cord that woke a few fireflies trapped in glass. "Hold a form without getting exhausted."
Kaelios stood up. His silhouette wavered, then solidified like a veil placed on the air.
Proposed routine: stabilization by triple anchors—density, contour, intention.
Exercise 1: density. Maintain constant pressure on a support.
Lioran placed a leaf on the table. "Precision, not force."
Kaelios lowered a dark, luminous hand, grazed the leaf, maintained an—infinitesimal—weight without crumpling it. The leaf trembled but did not tear.
Exercise 2: contour. Define body limits and maintain them despite distraction.
"Talk to me at the same time," Lioran said with a smile. "Your name?"
"Kaelios."
"Your intention?"
He hesitated. "To understand. To protect. To choose."
The silhouette became more solid.
Exercise 3: intention. Orient energy toward a simple action.
Lioran tossed an apple. Kaelios caught it cleanly, the imprint of his fingers for the first time forming a real hand.
"Better," the elf approved. "Now, the real world. We're going out."
The Thread of Water
They followed a stream to an enclave of mossy rocks. Small springs gushed in perfect circles.
"A mana node," Lioran explained. "It supplies three hidden hamlets. For a few days, the water has been weakening."
Divine Analysis: anemic flow, runic interference... unnatural origin.
Universal Memory: comparison → siphoning patterns used by minor clerics.
Kaelios placed his palm against the surface. In his consciousness, the veins of mana unfolded like an astronomical map. At the heart of the node, a dark mass bristling with parasitic glyphs pulsed slowly.
"I can remove this," he said. "Without breaking the flow."
"Do it. And... without losing yourself."
The Primal Will concentrated into a thread as fine as a hair. He inserted it into the runic tumor, isolated each glyph, and cut the links one by one, without violence. The rocks vibrated; the water regained its vigor, clear and singing.
Parasite neutralized. Node integrity: 98%.
Lioran let out a whistle of admiration. "You operate like a surgeon."
"I learn quickly."
Confirmation: assimilation speed is increasing. Note: humility advised, Aeni slipped in, perfectly dry.
Lioran let out a discreet laugh. "I like your inner voice. It will save your life."
A crack resounded in the bushes. Three silhouettes passed between the trunks, dark cloaks, bone masks.
"Collectors," Lioran whispered. "Scavengers in the pay of the temples."
The first one drew a black glass dagger. "Give us back the node, or give us your lives."
Kaelios didn't move.
Non-lethal option recommended. Deployment: inertial veil, targeted neutralization radius.
A barely visible wave stretched from him. The daggers grew heavy, their knees gave way; he immobilized their weapons by drowning them in a gentle pressure, like a thick sea. Lioran, with a gesture, made ivy vines grow around their wrists.
"No one will die today," Kaelios declared.
The cracked masks returned a hateful breath. "The gods will see you. They do not forgive."
"Let them look," Lioran replied, suddenly hard. "Let them learn to be ashamed."
They released the men far from the node, sending them staggering toward the bank. Lioran turned on his heels. "Come. There's someone you need to meet."
Moonhaven
The hamlet slept in giant ferns, with thatched roofs blending into the canopy. Elf children played among root arches; old ones sang softly by stone hearths.
Heads turned when Lioran entered. Suspicion first, then relief.
"Is he the one?" asked a woman with night-black hair.
"This is Kaelios," Lioran replied. "A... friend."
Kaelios inclined his head. The murmurs quieted. He felt a fragile gratitude tinged with fear—the fear of living here, under the gods.
An old woman approached, taking his hand of mist in her gnarled fingers.
"You have no body, and yet you have a heart," she said simply. "Stay as long as you want."
Universal Memory: assimilation of local dialect—64% → 100%.
Unknown words arranged themselves in his mind as if they had always belonged to him.
They shared a meal. Lioran spoke little. Kaelios observed: the quick smiles, the economical gestures, the way they had of extinguishing every lantern as soon as a wood pigeon cried in the heights.
As they were leaving, a little girl ran after them and slipped something into Kaelios's palm: a light wooden pendant, carved in the shape of a leaf.
"So you don't get lost, Mr. Star," she whispered.
He stood still for a moment. "Thank you."
Signs in the Sky
Evening fell as they returned to the refuge.
On the edge of the clearing, a silvery trail once again sliced through the canopy, closer, sharper, like a breath on their brows.
Lioran looked up, surprised. "Do you feel it?"
"Light," Kaelios murmured. "But not the kind that burns. The kind that understands."
Luminous anomaly: unknown harmonic. Emotional alignment: soothing. Recommended interaction: deferred.
They stood like that for a moment, heads tilted back toward the leaves. Then Lioran tapped Kaelios's shoulder. "Tomorrow, I'll teach you to walk without leaving a trace. And I'll tell you about a dream. Mine."
"A refuge," Kaelios repeated.
"More than a refuge. A place that deserves a name."
He smiled, tired but animated by a calm flame. "We'll put bridges there, safe roads between the trees, towers that don't spy on anyone, and markets where we can laugh loudly."
Kaelios's voice was bright. "And water that can't be stolen by anyone."
They laughed together, softly.
The night settled. Inside the oak, Kaelios sat on the threshold as he had the night before. The wooden pendant weighed against his palm, a tiny anchor in an ocean of possibilities.
He thought of a promise made without words, somewhere between two heartbeats of the world.
Internal log—Aeni:
— Protocol established: protect Moonhaven, secure mana nodes, map enclaves.
— Long-term objective: create a stable place for the "errors."
— Emotional annotation: new phenomenon—satisfaction.
"I will exist," Kaelios murmured, his eyes turned toward the shifting constellations. "And I will choose with them."
In the deep night, the same silvery glow crossed the sky one last time, like a silent blessing.
End of Chapter 1.