The night sky over Spain was quiet, the stars twinkling like distant memories. But within the confines of the sacred land, where Javier's body had once been laid to rest, something was stirring—a power, ancient and untamed.
Isabella stood at the edge of the hill, the wind tugging at her cloak. She gazed at the altar, where the Raven's Scepter glowed faintly, its golden metal reflecting the light of the moon. The Raven's Feather locket, an heirloom passed down through the generations, hung from a chain around her neck. It pulsed with a subtle warmth, as if alive. It was the only relic she had kept from her family's lineage—the only connection she had to Javier and the faith she held dear.
It had been weeks since the vision had come to her. Weeks since she had first felt the presence of Javier's return. Every night, she had come to the sacred hill, hoping for another sign, another glimpse of the divine being who had once walked among mortals. But tonight, something felt different.
The air was charged with energy, heavy and thick, as if the very earth beneath her was holding its breath. She could feel it in her bones—the pull of something greater than herself, greater than anything she had ever known.
And then, as if the world itself had answered her call, the ground trembled.
A crack split the earth beneath her feet, and from it, a surge of golden light erupted, blinding her for a moment. She gasped, shielding her eyes with her hand, and when she lowered it, the world around her had changed.
In the center of the crack stood a figure—a silhouette, tall and imposing, cloaked in shadows. The golden raven perched on his shoulder, its eyes glinting with the wisdom of millennia. Isabella's heart skipped a beat. She knew, without a doubt, who this was.
It was Javier. But not as she had seen him before—not as the god in her visions, nor as the image from the ancient texts. This was something new. He was reborn, not as a man of flesh, but as something more—an immortal force made flesh.
His golden eyes met hers, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
"Isabella," he spoke her name, his voice deep, resonating with power, yet there was a warmth to it, a recognition of her soul. "You have waited for me."
Isabella could hardly breathe. The weight of centuries seemed to press down on her. "I— I have," she stammered, her voice shaking. "I've always believed… in you. In your return."
Javier stepped forward, his form radiating an aura of divine energy, but there was something else—something human in the way he looked at her. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch warm and steady.
"You have carried the faith," he said softly. "You have kept it alive, even when the world forgot."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "I never doubted you," she whispered. "I never let go of the belief that one day, you would return."
Javier's gaze softened. "It was never about belief, Isabella. It was about waiting. Waiting for the right moment."
The Raven on his shoulder tilted its head, its golden feathers shimmering in the moonlight. Isabella could feel the immense power that radiated from both Javier and the bird. She had always known the Raven was more than just a symbol—it was a part of him, an extension of his being.
"I've come," Javier continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "to fulfill the promise I made. To set things right. The world is not as it was when I left it. There is much to be done."
Isabella nodded, feeling a deep sense of purpose wash over her. She had always known that Javier's return would not be a simple matter of resurrection. The world had changed, and so had he.
"What do we do now?" she asked, her voice steadying.
Javier looked to the horizon, where the first light of dawn was beginning to break. "Now, we rebuild. We restore what has been lost. The world has forgotten me, but it is time for them to remember. For they will need me, now more than ever."
The Raven let out a soft caw, as if agreeing with him, and flapped its wings, soaring into the sky. Javier's eyes followed it for a moment, and then he turned back to Isabella.
"Come," he said, his tone commanding yet comforting. "There is much to prepare. The world needs to be reminded of the power of the Golden Raven."
Isabella nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. She had always believed in the prophecy, in the return of the god who had once walked the earth. But now, standing before him—feeling the weight of his power, the depth of his presence—she understood that his return was more than just a miracle. It was the beginning of something new.
Javier was back. And the world would never be the same again.
As the sun rose on the horizon, Isabella woke up from her dream...
Isabella awoke with a start, her body drenched in sweat, her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. She looked around her room, disoriented. The dream had felt so real—so vivid.
She sat up, trembling, her heart still pounding in her chest. She looked down at the golden feather locket around her neck, the one that had been passed down to her from her ancestors. It glowed softly in the dim light of her room, and for the first time, she felt a deep, undeniable connection to it—like it was alive, just waiting to guide her.
Tears stung her eyes as she realized the truth: Javier had returned, in a way. His promise to her had not been a mere dream—it was a call to action. And now, she understood what she must do.
The legacy of the Raven could not be forgotten. It was up to her to ensure that Javier's story lived on.
And she would. For as long as she breathed, she would carry his legacy, just as he had asked. She would rebuild the faith, the story of the Raven, and make sure that his name would never be lost to time.
For the world needed him now more than ever. And when the time was right, she would be ready.