Alona lay nestled in her bed, surrounded by the quiet warmth of dark wooden walls that made up her room in the old mansion.
The room was dimly lit, with early dawn casting a faint glow across the polished wood, giving it an amber sheen.
Every surface seemed to whisper of age and strength; the grain of the wood ran in deep, winding patterns as if holding secrets within each line. Scrolls lay scattered across her table by the window, some half-open, their edges curling inwards from use. They bore the weight of her research—handwritten notes, diagrams of rare herbs, and sketches of magical symbols, illuminated by the faint light.
Her latest scroll which she will submit to the Scholar Institute of the Elves, one of the best universities in the world of Edenia, contains her research on the poison that almost killed Fang.
Her scroll was written neatly yet at times her calligraphy grew sloppy, a sign of how tired she was while writing it.
The bed she collapsed on Yesterday was larger than she needed, covered in layers of wool and fur to keep out the winter chill. Her breath rose softly in the crisp air, lingering in small clouds that vanished almost as quickly as they formed. She could feel the coolness prickling her skin, a quiet reminder of the growing winter wind.
Then, slowly, warmth began to creep in, gentle at first, but unmistakable. The cold air softened, as if the walls themselves were giving off a faint heat. Alona shifted, feeling the subtle change—a warmth seeping into her bones, soothing and ancient, like hands cradling her. Her breathing slowed, deepened, as a feeling of safety wrapped around her.
The air grew warmer still, and a hazy light filtered into her vision. She was no longer in her room but standing barefoot in an endless field under a golden sky. Around her, wildflowers swayed lazily, their colors rich and vivid, each petal bathed in sunlight. A gentle breeze moved through the grass, carrying a scent that was both foreign and familiar, like the memory of summers long past. She felt grounded, her toes curling into soft, sun-warmed earth.
"Alona." A voice drifted toward her, soft yet resonant, like the distant sound of chimes. She turned, her heart stirring as though called by something she had long forgotten. Before her stood a woman whose very presence seemed to shimmer with light. Her skin glowed like polished marble, and her hair was woven with strands of sunlight. She wore a calm, open expression that filled Alona with an indescribable peace.
The woman's gaze held her, deep and timeless. She extended a hand toward Alona, each movement filled with grace. As their fingers nearly touched, Alona felt her entire being warmed by an energy that seemed to flow from the woman. It was a warmth that felt both protective and tender, filling her with a profound calm.
But before she could grasp the woman's hand, a cold sensation began to pull her back. The field dimmed, the light faded, and she felt the warmth slip away.
Alona's eyes opened, and she was back in her room. The chill returned sharply, pressing against her skin, her breath once again misting in the cold morning air.
The room's temperature kept still, the faint dawn light casting soft edges on the walls. She felt the last remnants of warmth leaving her, as if the presence had vanished but left behind a quiet imprint on her soul.
A small knock sounded on her door, breaking the silence. Her heart jumped, startled by the sudden noise in the quiet room. She sat up, clutching the blanket around her shoulders as the last traces of warmth faded completely, leaving her in the cool stillness.
"Alona, may I come in?" Her father's voice drifted through the door, low and calm.
Unknown to her he felt the surge of mana, one that most experienced mages won't.
That mana presence was in his life so many years ago, yet he never forgot it.
She paused, the vision still lingering in her mind. She could feel something lingering, an energy that wasn't hers but felt woven into her.
'did my mana capacity grow? This is more than I'm used to, might be smart to consult with Gaia. It must have something to do with the vision.'
She stood up, walked towards the door as she called out, "Yes, just let me unlock it."
She took a couple of steps towards the door, swaying with each step.
After a couple of seconds, she felt her mana surging which her father felt too.
A bright light burst uncontrollably from her hands, one she never witnessed.
Her father turned the door to ash with a single fireball as if on command.
The door simply burst into flames, leaving behind a sulfuric smell in the air.
The sight he saw was nothing short of a miracle:
"This... Mirabella, is it your doing?"
The light morphed itself into half a figure of light, only the upper body of the goddess.
Alona passed out, yet her body was held gently by the warm arms of her goddess.
"Fujin... How has she grown so much, such power inside that pure heart..."
The man looked as worried as he could, his palms sweaty yet he didn't dare make a move against the goddess he once loved.
"Mirabella... do you plan on taking her from me?"
He said those words with caution, yet his tone was nothing short of a loud warning.
Yet her response was a simple smile, one that he missed after so many years.
"Nonsense, this girl is not under my control and will never be. This gift of hers, the gift of life, is unlimited.
I have never seen love this powerful, passion for the study of life itself."
"Why are you here then? You're not coming here for nothing, especially when you know I can sense your mana!"
'If she wished to take her from me she would have done it by now, yet she didn't. Is the king behind this?'
"Dear, I'm only here to take care of our precious child of love.
She needs new guidance on her powers, especially when they have grown to this extent.
I drew her to my realm last night, and for the first time in my existence...
Someone could hear me through the visions."
His heart threatened to stop at once, still beating by his ability to return to tranquility promptly.
"You... You're not supposed to be heard. Some of the ancient gods, maybe.
But not you, Mirabella."
His tone filled with poison, as she never contacted her daughter like that before.
16 years of raising her alone, and he never felt the need for help.
The village could accommodate him and Alona since the day she was born, and with time he became a leading figure in this village.
The day the empire looked for war volunteers, he prayed to the same goddess he now stares at.
He went to war on his own, sacrificing his entire existence to the army for the sole purpose of peace in Davra.
Thanks to his efforts in the war, the village didn't need to send a single soldier.
When he came back with the goddess to Davra, he became the chief, and a year later:
A father.
Mirabella's form shimmered faintly, a vision of grace that transcended the physical realm. She looked at Alona, whose unconscious form she cradled, as if in silent reverie.
Then, turning her gaze back to Fujin, she spoke, her voice layered with warmth and warning.
"I have done nothing beyond guiding her, Fujin. Our daughter's strength is her own, yet untempered, vast beyond the bounds of what I anticipated. She is beginning to bridge realms, able to hear my call in her dreams. It is not a thing I willed."
Fujin narrowed his eyes, mistrust flickering through them as old memories surfaced, memories of battles won and lost, prayers to the mother of his child, of promises made in the fervor of young love.
"And yet here you are, meddling once more in the life of a child who has grown without you."
Mirabella's soft smile deepened, undeterred. "Meddling? No, beloved. Preparing. Do you not sense it? The threads of fate are tightening around her. Soon, she will face choices that will shake the roots of her very soul. And I am here to help her find the strength she needs."
"What fates? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, MIRABELLA!?" His mana flared, and the room's temperature took to new heights, alerting all capable mages in the village to his mana presence.
Even though his age has been rusting his powers, his mana essence never dropped.
Such amounts of mana were only drops in the sea for the goddess, but she didn't fail to recognize her responsibility for this situation.
"Dear, the gods have left their realms, looking at the newest candidate of my brother.
Fang is not just any chosen one, he is destined for greatness.
And as you and I both know, our beautiful princess is growing endlessly, but so is her destiny."
His anger softened, replaced by an uneasy acceptance. He knew Mirabella was right; the gods never returned without reason. And though she promised not to take Alona, he knew that the nature of power could be merciless. He looked down at his daughter's peaceful face, still bathed in the faint golden glow of her mother's touch. "I've trained her, prepared her for anything the world can throw at her. She doesn't need the guidance of spirits to understand her strength."
Mirabella's gaze sharpened, and a hint of sadness clouded her expression. "There are powers that cannot be taught in mortal life, no matter how fiercely you prepare her. She is a child of both worlds, Fujin. She needs to understand her origins, to truly know herself if she is to survive the trials ahead."
At this, Fujin stilled, his jaw clenched as memories of ancient prophecies rose unbidden in his mind.
He had hidden from Alona the truth of her heritage, the whispers of power that ran through her blood. He had hoped she would lead a simple life, free from the chains of destiny. But seeing the faint aura that now surrounded her, he knew that fate was already beginning to tighten its grip.
"Fine," he said slowly, his voice a blend of resignation and resolve. "Teach her what you will, Mirabella. But know this—she is of my world. She will walk her path among mortals, not among gods."
Mirabella's gaze softened, and she nodded. "I would expect no less from you. But remember, Fujin, the divine does not forsake its own. From now on she will be considered a chosen one, but no demands will be made on my side. If her love is big enough for this world, she will lead it to happiness instead of war like my twin brother."
"The god of death is guiding Fang, but you're still going to let Alona assist him?"
Fujin felt the rush of mana in his daughter's body, and he could sense it was not influenced by her mother.
'If this power is purely Alona's, can it be that Mirabella has nothing to do with this?'
"Dear, you do not need to concern yourself with such matters. Her blood is mine, and as such her connection to the living is stronger than all.
The surprise lies in the hands of Fang of the Dead, the man whose mana pushed her body to create more life mana.
Something about their connection spells a new power, one I have never encountered before.
Truly, my brothers have a wicked sense of humor."
Fujin's eyebrows sharpened, "You mean to tell me the other gods are aware of my daughter?"
Mirabella caressed Alona's cheek, "You mean our daughter, and yes they are aware, just like I'm aware of their chosen ones. Now, I need to go back as my presence in this realm will spell more death."
"I remember, you being here means the god of death will also visit." Her visits to the battlefield in the last war have always blessed him with renewed health but the massacres that followed seemed unnaturally disastrous
Mirabella's bright smile widened, and her graceful laugh erupted:
"Hahaha, I THINK judging by Fang's presence here he already came by more than once or twice so I sure hope I'm only balancing the field."
Her form began to fade, dissolving into a warm, golden mist that lingered for a moment before fading into nothingness. Fujin caught his daughter as the room grew cold once more. Fujin sighed, feeling the weight of their conversation settle upon him.
He reached out, brushing a hand against Alona's cheek as she stirred, her eyes slowly fluttering open.
She looked up at him, confused and slightly dazed. "Father...I felt her. I was in a field, and she...she was there."
Fujin managed a small, strained smile. "Yes, child. You've encountered the divine in a way few mortals ever will. There is much you'll need to learn." He took her hand, squeezing it gently.
And as the dawn light spilled across the room, they sat together, quiet but resolved, their breaths mingling in the frosty air. A new chapter had opened, one woven from strands of divine power, mortal love, and a destiny that awaited just beyond the horizon.
Beyond the walls of the mansion, a powerful wizard sat on his chair as he spun a pen in the air using his wind magic.
'Nice to feel Fujin's magic once more, I did not remember his mana so potent.
Then again, years have passed since we fought side by side.
The question is, who are the two gentlemen who are waiting for me outside so early in the morning?'
Varden's personal guard notified him of two strange hooded figures that called his name, yet didn't give theirs'
As he strapped his sword to his belt, he opened the door.
"Alright, who calls for me this early in the morning?"
He rubbed the back of his head, eyes still closed but his mana spread in awareness.
Then the sound caught him off guard.
One he had not hear in years, certainly not expecting to hear in this part of the empire.
His eyes widened as the two hooded figures took off their hoods.
"Hello brother, nice to see you're less strict than when you used to teach me swordplay."
The grey-whitish hair that formed the beard of Terrance was one of a kind, long yet kempt almost effortlessly.
But what shocked the Davra village officer the most was the man next to his brother, one with a strong chin and a large mana presence even when controlled.
"Nice to see you, old friend. Surely you missed your king too?"