Once upon a time, before the world was scarred, there were four lights. They were not merely fire. Nor were they water... nor wind... nor earth.
They were the very breath of the world.
The lights were sealed within jewels, guarded in stone temples hidden deep among the mountains. The monks did not wear them. They did not touch them.
They simply waited.
For in the art of balancing power, waiting was considered sacred. But for the young, waiting was a burden too heavy to bear.
Among the monks was a youth whose beard had not yet grown, whose heart beat faster than his mind. While pulling guard duty on the cold stones of the temple at night, he would watch the pale glow of the jewels.
He saw their silence as nothing but wasted time.
One night, he whispered to another student his own age:
"Why do we sit here for hours just watching them? Why do we not use their power to protect?"
Those words pried open a door. And once certain doors are even slightly ajar, the world is never the same again.
The other student hesitated, but curiosity outweighed fear. He took the four jewels at once. He wore all four. And he awakened them.
First, the earth trembled.
Then the ground grew furious; mountains split asunder. The seas rose, swallowing the coasts. The sky caught fire, and the wind screamed. Fire, water, air, and earth...
When they merged in a single body, balance was not born.
The Apocalypse was.
The temples crumbled; the monks fell silent one by one. Prayers were left half-spoken. The body of the student who wore the jewels could not carry the light. His veins burst. His breath failed. And just like that, he perished.
Then, the world screamed once more.
A massive surge of energy exploded—an explosion so violent that the lights were hurled into the heavens, and the jewels were torn apart. They scattered aimlessly and vanished. No one saw where they went. For at that moment, there was no one left to look.
The disasters stopped instantly.
But in their wake... nothing remained.
Amidst the ruins, only one student was still breathing.
It was the young monk who had whispered the offer. When he opened his eyes, the world was silent, but it was not the silence of peace. It was the silence of a world in mourning.
At his side lay only one thing: an ancient grimoire.
The jewels were gone. The masters were gone. The temples were gone.
There was only guilt.
They say that monk lived for a hundred years, seeking a way to atone for his mistake. They say that a hundred years later, when the world stirred once more, he would wait no longer.
For some tales are told merely to be told.
And some... are told so they may never happen again.
***
A hundred years had passed. A hundred years of searching for the jewels.
During this time, the monk had wandered through many lands and listened to many tongues. Maps had aged, borders had shifted; some cities had risen, while others had let even their names be forgotten. He had left them all behind.
The ruins of temples, forbidden archives, legends mistaken for children's fables... And yet, with nothing in his hands, he returned to the city where it all began. He knew the stones. He knew the directions of the streets. But the city was more restless than he remembered.
At night, the sky woke up crimson; in the mornings, the smell of ash seeped into the alleys with the wind. Fires were breaking out. Without cause. Without spark. The monk understood the moment he saw it. This was not an accident, nor was it a curse.
It was a sign.
The Fire Jewel had found its bearer.
That day, for the first time in a hundred years, he did not just stand and wait. He gave up on running, searching, and walking alone. Because now he knew: the jewels could not be found alone.
He made his decision. He would form a team. Not the chosen ones, but those who could endure. Not those seeking power, but those who could carry the responsibility.
He would teach them everything he knew. The defensive spells, the limits of power...
And most importantly... the balance.
Kanezawa Village.
It had rained; the ground was wet. The morning mist had not yet lifted. The marketplace was crowded, yet strangely quiet. The monk, staff in hand, donned a cloak of fake exhaustion as he wandered through the market. He was no longer hiding, but he still did not wish to draw attention.
He had already found his first three students and begun their training. But for some reason, he could not find the last one.
Until...
A young girl running in panic through the market entrance collided with him, tumbling them both to the ground.
Ayoi:
"Ouch! Oh my-"
The girl bolted upright in terror, then turned to the old man in a panic.
Ayoi:
"I'm so, so sorry! Are you alright?!"
The monk took the girl's hand and rose slowly. A faint, involuntary smile touched his face, as if he had found what he was looking for, but he tried to hide it.
Monk:
"I am fine, don't worry for me, young lady."
The girl was delicate and slender. She had silken, wavy dark indigo hair that fell to her waist, with bangs brushing her forehead. With her porcelain skin and glass-like blue eyes, she stood out from the villagers.
Monk:
"Excuse me... I have a proposal for you. Would you grant me your name?"
The girl looked at him in surprise. She was cautious, but curiosity kept her from stepping back.
Ayoi:
"Ayoi... my name is Ayoi."
Monk:
"I will not ask who you were running from just now. But I can say this... you look as though you are not supposed to be here."
Ayoi:
"If you aren't selling something—"
Monk:
"I have nothing to sell. But there is something I am seeking. Will you walk with me for a while?"
The girl held her breath. It wasn't a command, nor was it quite an invitation. But she felt that if she refused, the question would never be asked again. She didn't answer, but she took a step on the wet stones. Then another, and another.
Monk:
"You belong to no one here. And the place you are fleeing from is not waiting for you."
Ayoi:
"You don't even know me yet."
Monk:
"I don't need to. The Elementals do not know man. They only... hear the echo."
Ayoi:
"Huh... What do you mean?"
Monk:
"If you stay here, after a while, you will lose your voice as well. I am simply saying... there is another way."
Ayoi:
"And that way... where does it lead?"
The monk leaned on his staff, his eyes drifting into the mist.
Monk:
"To the elements. But the real matter is... what you will decide to do beyond them."
A flash of lightning struck, followed by a light rain. Ayoi lifted her head to the sky, letting the rain wash over her face. She looked back at the place she had just fled.
She closed her eyes, thought for a brief moment, and then nodded in silent agreement.
[End of Chapter One]