Time had no meaning in that world.
Days blurred into months, months into decades, decades into centuries. Yet Javier's body never aged like a mortal's. Elenya's influence bent time around them, shaping their existence into an endless crucible of battle and learning.
Every dawn brought a new trial.
"Again," Elenya commanded, her voice sharp as steel.
Javier rose from the dirt, his body smoking from burns. The colossal fire serpent he had been fighting hissed, coiling for another strike. He clenched his jaw, forcing his trembling hands into focus.
"You cannot simply hold the flame," she shouted from her perch on a cliff. "You must become it. Align your soul, don't cage it!"
The serpent roared, hurling a tidal wave of fire. Javier inhaled, surrendering to the inferno instead of resisting. Flames enveloped him, searing flesh from bone—yet his essence drank it in. The fire became his, wrapping him in a burning cloak.
With a guttural cry, he surged forward, cutting the serpent down with its own power.
Ash rained around him. He fell to one knee, chest heaving.
Elenya descended gracefully, her silver hair gleaming in the firelight. "Better. You're learning to embrace, not fight. That is how you survive your gift."
Javier smirked weakly. "Or die trying."
Her lips curved. "Both are paths to strength."
The centuries shaped him.
He mastered blades from warriors, spells from sorcerers, and instincts from beasts. He could shift into shadow, heal wounds with a touch, conjure storms, or harden his body like diamond. Each ability carried a story of blood and survival.
But the true lesson was control.
Elenya pushed him past sanity. She broke his bones and forced him to heal without rest. She threw him against creatures older than empires. She set him tasks no mortal should survive.
And through it all, she never coddled him. Only when he lay broken, staring into the abyss, did she kneel and whisper truths that anchored him.
"You are not defined by the powers you copy," she said once, as he lay in a pool of his own blood. "You are defined by how you wield them. Remember that, Javier."
Those words carved themselves into his soul.
Yet, beyond pain and growth, a bond formed between them.
Not romantic at first, but something heavier.
Respect. Trust. The kind forged in fire and eternity.
On nights when neither slept, they sat by the fractured moon, speaking of things that no one else could understand.
Javier asked, "Do you ever get tired of being the strongest?"
Elenya chuckled softly, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Strength is a lonely throne. To be unmatched is to be isolated. Perhaps that is why I keep you alive, little mirror. You remind me of the world's imperfections."
He tilted his head. "So I'm your… company?"
Her smirk deepened. "A particularly amusing form of it, yes."
For all her pride, her laughter was rare, and Javier learned to treasure it.
The world itself grew restless.
Storms of mana tore across continents. Armies of demigods clashed in the distance, their wars rippling through the realms. The skies burned with omens: constellations rearranging, moons fracturing, stars bleeding red.
Elenya knew what it meant.
"The gods stir," she said grimly one evening. "The cycle begins again."
Javier frowned. "Cycle?"
"Every few tens of thousands of years, the gods awaken to claim dominion. Mortals, immortals, all are dragged into their war. It is destruction without purpose, yet inevitability itself."
His fists clenched. "And you… you fight them?"
"I always have," she said, her eyes hard. "It is my duty as Reality's Warden. Alone, I held the line. But this time…" Her gaze softened, settling on him. "This time, I have you."
The weight of her trust nearly broke him. But it also steeled his resolve.
Not all lessons came from battle. Some came from silence.
One night, centuries into his training, Javier finally dared to ask the question that haunted him.
"Why me? Why take me as your disciple when you could have chosen anyone?"
Elenya looked at him, her expression unreadable. For once, she did not answer immediately.
Finally, she said, "Because you are untainted. A mirror begins empty. That emptiness can become anything. I saw in you what I had not seen in millennia—a chance for something new. Perhaps…" She paused, her voice almost tender. "…Perhaps I was lonely, too."
Javier's chest tightened. He didn't reply, but the silence between them carried more meaning than words could.
The last trial before war came in the form of a colossal guardian—a titan forged from the bones of fallen gods.
Its arrival split mountains, its roar shook the world.
Elenya stood back, arms folded. "This one is yours."
Javier's eyes widened. "Mine? Alone?"
Her smirk was merciless. "Do you wish to stand beside me in the Battle of Gods? Then prove you are worthy."
The titan swung its colossal blade, cleaving valleys. Javier darted forward, summoning shadows to shield himself, flames to counter, wind to propel. The ground cracked beneath his strikes.
Every ability he had stolen sang within him—lightning, steel, fury, life. He fought like a storm given flesh.
Hours passed. His body broke and mended, blood slick on his skin. The titan would not fall.
At the brink of collapse, he remembered Elenya's words: Do not hold. Become.
He closed his eyes, aligning with the titan's very essence. Not to copy—but to resonate, to harmonize. For a fleeting moment, he felt its strength flow through him as if it were his own.
With a final cry, Javier split the titan in two.
The land quaked. Silence followed.
He fell to his knees, trembling, victorious.
Elenya approached, her expression unreadable. Then, for the first time, she bowed her head slightly.
"Well done, Javier Ricas. You are ready."
From that day forward, the world whispered his new name not as a stranger, but as a force. The disciple of Elenya, the Mirror of Destiny, the one who had slain the Titan of Bones.
But even as he stood tall, stronger than he had ever imagined, Javier felt the weight of the horizon pressing closer.
The gods were coming.
And with them, the war that would decide everything.