In the days following Xal'Anar's visit, the weight of the revelation settled upon Althea and Caelan. The knowledge that their son was destined for a future far beyond their quiet world brought a new urgency to their lives. They both knew they had only about a couple of decades before Astrael's journey would truly begin, and they were determined to prepare him as best they could.
As a baby, Astrael continued to grow quickly, but there was something different about him. His glowing eyes often gazed far beyond the simple confines of their home, as if he could already see the vastness of the universe awaiting him. He was unusually calm for an infant, rarely crying, and when he did, the stars outside would shimmer in response, as though the cosmos itself shared in his emotions.
Caelan, ever the protector, began crafting a plan. Though Astrael's destiny was to fight cosmic forces beyond comprehension, Caelan believed in the importance of giving his son a strong foundation. Astrael needed to understand strength, honor, and discipline—the values of his father's mortal world. Caelan knew that while Astrael would possess great power, it would be his heart and mind that would ultimately define him in the battles to come.
One morning, when Astrael had just reached the age of three, Caelan took his son to the forest near their estate. The trees stood tall and serene, a peaceful place where Astrael would one day learn the skills of a warrior.
"Do you see this place, Astrael?" Caelan asked, kneeling beside his son. "It's quiet here, but it holds strength. The trees grow tall because their roots are deep. You, too, will need roots like these—values that will keep you strong when the storms come."
Astrael, though young, listened intently. His father's words, though simple, carried a weight that resonated with him. Even at that age, the boy knew that his father was preparing him for something far greater than the world he could see.
Each day from then on, Caelan trained his son in the ways of strength and honor. Though Astrael was still small, Caelan introduced him to simple exercises, teaching him balance, awareness, and discipline. The boy took to the lessons with a natural ease, his movements already reflecting a grace and power that hinted at his cosmic destiny. Caelan watched with a mixture of pride and sorrow, knowing that the boy before him would soon face a fate that no father could fully prepare him for.
Althea, meanwhile, nurtured Astrael's spiritual side. She had grown more attuned to the cosmic energies flowing through her son, her own enlightenment deepened by the presence of such divine power. Together, they would spend time in meditation beneath the stars, Althea guiding her son through the vastness of the universe within his mind. She taught him about balance and the need for both order and chaos in the cosmos. Astrael absorbed her teachings with a quiet understanding, as if these concepts were already ingrained in his very being.
As the years passed, Astrael's powers became more apparent. By the age of six, he could summon small orbs of light, which he would play with in the evenings, casting them into the sky like miniature stars. His eyes, always glowing with that faint purple hue, now reflected the vastness of the cosmos even more deeply. He began to ask questions—about the universe, about his place in it, and about the battle he sensed was coming.
It was during one of these evenings, as Astrael sat beside his mother under the stars, that he asked the question that had been lingering in his mind.
"Mother," he said, his young voice thoughtful, "when will I leave?"
Althea looked at her son, her heart heavy with both love and sorrow. "Not for a while yet," she replied softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "But when the time comes, you will be ready."
Astrael nodded, accepting the answer with the calm that had always been a part of him. But in his heart, he knew that the day was drawing closer. The stars whispered to him at night, their distant light calling him toward his destiny.
The first sign that his time was near came on his tenth birthday.
That morning, the sky was clear, the sun shining brightly over their peaceful world. Astrael had grown into a strong and capable young boy, his training with Caelan making him swift and agile, while his mother's teachings had sharpened his mind and spirit. The people in their village had come to revere him as a gifted child, though none truly understood the extent of the power that lay within him.
As the day went on, however, the sky began to change. Dark clouds rolled in, swirling with energy that was unnatural and foreboding. Lightning crackled in the distance, and the wind began to howl, carrying with it a strange, discordant hum. The villagers looked to the sky with fear and confusion, but Astrael, standing at the edge of the forest with his parents, knew exactly what it meant.
As the day turned to evening, the storm grew fiercer, darkening the sky and shaking the earth beneath their feet. The once peaceful air now crackled with an unnatural energy. Astrael stood tall beside his parents, his glowing eyes fixed on the horizon where something stirred, an ancient force awakening. But this was not the time for his departure. The cosmos still had lessons for him to learn here, on his home world.
The storm that had arrived that day was the first of many signs. Over the following weeks, strange occurrences began to plague the land. It started small—crops wilting under clear skies, animals disappearing from the forests. The villagers whispered of curses, dark omens that had come to punish them. Astrael knew better. He could feel the taint in the air, a faint, distant echo of chaos that had seeped into their world.
His parents remained steadfast, guiding him through these troubling times, knowing that Astrael's growing power would soon be needed. Caelan doubled their training sessions, pushing Astrael to his limits, sharpening his combat skills and instincts. "You must be ready, Astrael," he'd say between strikes. "The enemy won't wait for you to catch your breath."
A few months after his birthday, Astrael faced his first true test. A creature, unlike anything the villagers had ever seen, emerged from the forest's depths. Its body was twisted and malformed, an abomination with jagged limbs and eyes glowing with the sickly red hue of chaos. It wreaked havoc on the nearby farms, tearing through livestock and damaging the land. The villagers, terrified, sought refuge, but Astrael felt a pull toward the beast, sensing the corruption within it.
"Stay back," Caelan warned as the villagers scrambled to safety. But Astrael stepped forward, his eyes glowing with the cosmic energy he had just begun to master. He could feel the force of Vaalgorth's influence in the creature, a fragment of the chaos that had been unleashed beyond the stars. This was his trial, his moment to prove he was capable of more than just training.
The creature lunged at him, its movements erratic, as if reality itself bent around its twisted form. Astrael didn't flinch. His father's teachings, his mother's wisdom, and the calm of the stars guided him. With a swift motion, he summoned an orb of light, just as he had practiced in the nights before. But this time, it wasn't play. The orb grew brighter, filling the air with a radiant glow before it shot toward the beast.
The light struck the creature, and for a moment, it faltered. Astrael moved in, faster than even he expected, dodging its jagged claws and landing a solid strike with the blade Caelan had given him. The creature howled, its twisted form unraveling in the light's presence, and with one final, desperate scream, it collapsed into a pile of blackened ash.
Astrael stood over the remains, his breathing steady, the glow in his eyes fading as calm returned to the world. He had passed his first trial.
In the weeks that followed, more creatures emerged—each one a grotesque manifestation of chaos, corrupted by the distant touch of Vaalgorth. Astrael faced them all. With each battle, he grew stronger, more confident in his powers and in his mission. Caelan and Althea watched with both pride and sorrow as their son became the protector of their land, fighting forces far beyond what any mortal could hope to face. The villagers, once filled with fear, now looked to Astrael as their savior, though none knew the full extent of what he was destined to become.
But it wasn't just monsters that Astrael had to fight. Corruption spread in other ways—subtly, insidiously. There were talking's in the village of people behaving strangely, their minds twisted by dark forces. It began with one man, a farmer named Daen. He had been a quiet, kind soul once, but after the storm, something changed. He became erratic, filled with anger and fear, lashing out at those around him. His eyes took on the same sickly red glow Astrael had seen in the creatures of chaos.
One evening, a few months after Astrael turned 15, Daen confronted Astrael in the village square, his voice filled with venom. "You're the reason this is happening!" he spat, his face contorted with rage. "You brought this curse upon us!"
Astrael stepped forward, his eyes calm, but his heart ached for the man before him. He could see the corruption within Daen, the touch of Vaalgorth warping his mind. "This is not your doing," Astrael said softly, his voice steady. "You're not yourself, Daen."
But the man lunged at Astrael, a dagger in hand, eyes wild with chaotic energy. Astrael moved swiftly, disarming him with ease and holding him back with a forceful grip. The light in Astrael's eyes flared as he concentrated, reaching out to the stars for strength. He focused on the corruption within Daen, drawing it out slowly, carefully, until the sickly red glow faded from his eyes.
Daen collapsed to the ground, gasping as if a great weight had been lifted from him. Astrael knelt beside him, his hand still glowing faintly with cosmic energy. "You're free now," he said quietly, helping the man to his feet.
It wasn't the last time Astrael would face such challenges. More villagers became corrupted over time, their minds and bodies twisted by the chaotic influence of Vaalgorth. Each time, Astrael was there, using his growing power not just to fight, but to heal. He understood now that his mission wasn't only to defeat the forces of chaos—it was to restore balance, to bring order where there was disorder.
As the years went on, Astrael continued to face trials on his homeworld—fighting creatures of chaos, battling the corruption in those around him, and honing his cosmic powers. He learned the value of patience, the importance of balance, and the weight of the responsibility he carried.
By the time Astrael turned twenty, he had become a warrior and a protector in his own right. He had faced the darkness within and without, and in doing so, he had gained a deep understanding of his mission. The monsters, the corrupted villagers, and the cosmic energy that pulsed through him had all prepared him for what lay ahead.
And now, as the familiar hum of chaos stirred once again in the distance, Astrael knew that his time on this world was nearing its end. The cosmos called to him, just as it had when he was a child, but this time, he was ready to answer.