Darkness.

  Absolute silence.

  Adriel felt nothing.

  No cold, no heat. No weight, no body. Only… emptiness.

  Until, in the middle of that endless black, a soft, enveloping voice whispered:

  “Are you really going to resign yourself to stop existing… just like that…?”

  …

  A flicker.

  Then another.

  And suddenly, a warm light seeped through the gloom, wrapping his awareness as if the sun itself were caressing his face.

  Adriel half-opened his eyes slowly, as if waking from a dream far too long. The light blinded him for a heartbeat, and when he finally managed to focus, the first thing he felt wasn’t fear, or confusion… but something he hadn’t known in years:

  comfort.

  The faint murmur of wind through the trees, the mild breeze brushing his skin, the scent of flowers he didn’t recognize…

  And above all, the gentle warmth beneath his head.

  He wasn’t lying on a bed. Nor on the ground.

  His head was resting… in someone’s lap.

  And that warmth, that touch, that feeling of being sheltered…

  It was something he hadn’t felt in so long it seemed unreal.

  Adriel blinked slowly, trying to take in where he was. Above him stretched a clear sky of pure blue, so bright it looked painted with summer light. Small white clouds drifted lazily, and the sun’s warmth bathed his face with a tenderness he couldn’t remember ever feeling.

  “Where… am I?” he thought, not daring to move.

  Then something drifted into his field of view.

  A face… unfamiliar, yet so beautiful it stole his breath.

  It was the face of a young woman with delicate features, framed by a chestnut mane that fell like a soft river of silk. Her eyes, warm and the same hue, regarded him with a blend of gentleness and calm. He didn’t know her, and yet… something about her filled him with a peace so deep, so pure, that he couldn’t look away.

  He was spellbound, as if caught in a dream he didn’t want to wake from.

  “Finally, you’ve awakened,” the young woman said, her voice so calm and kind it felt like it was embracing his soul.

  The words hung in the air, so light they barely disturbed the silence.

  Adriel blinked a couple of times, slowly coming back to himself. The sun’s warmth, the scent of unfamiliar flowers, the softness of the lap beneath his head… none of it made sense.

  Propping himself up a little—without entirely leaving that comforting contact—he rasped, disoriented, “What… happened? Where are we? Who are you?”

  The young woman tilted her head slightly and answered with serene ease, as if it were the simplest thing in the world: “We are in the Celestial Realm, within my domain. I am Astaria, goddess of life and creation.”

  Her chestnut eyes—warm as a sunset—rested on him with tenderness, and a flicker of sorrow.

  “And the reason you are here…” she paused briefly, “is that, unfortunately, you have died.”

  Adriel’s heart lurched.

  Astaria’s gaze shifted, as if it pained her to say the words. The serenity in her expression turned wistful. There was no coldness or drama in her voice—only a quiet regret. A silent grief for the young man who had arrived before her without ever wishing to.

  Adriel was silent for a few seconds. His breathing stayed even, as if those words—you have died—hadn’t truly caught him off guard.

  He glanced up at the blue sky, then back into the goddess’s eyes.

  “I see… so that’s it. It finally happened,” he said in a steady voice, no trace of distress.

  Astaria watched him closely, as if expecting a stronger reaction. What she found was serenity… and perhaps a hint of relief.

  “It doesn’t really surprise me that it happened,” he went on. “What surprises me… is the place I wound up in.”

  He studied her again with curiosity, like someone trying to grasp something he’d never imagined.

  “So I suppose, since these are your domains… this is heaven, right?” He paused, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Does everyone who dies get received by you like this?”

  The question was direct but not disrespectful—an honest doubt, born of the curiosity of a soul that, for the first time in a long while, felt no weight on his chest.

  Astaria let a small smile bloom, soft as the breeze still stroking the meadow. She sat up a little, folding her hands in her lap as she answered in a calm voice:

  “You could say yes… this is heaven. But not as they imagine it in your world.”

  Her words floated with an almost hypnotic cadence, as if she spoke from outside time.

  “It’s a very long explanation,” she added with a light, gentle laugh, “but let’s say the Celestial Realm isn’t a single place. It’s made up of many kingdoms, each under the care of a different god. This…” She extended a hand to the serene landscape around them. “This is mine.”

  The sunlight seemed to brighten a little as she said it.

  “When a person dies, their soul is brought to the Celestial Realm… but not everyone arrives in the same place. Each soul is guided to the sector of the realm belonging to the god who governs their world of origin—or to the one their soul has been bound to.”

  Adriel listened intently without interrupting. The wind played with her chestnut hair as she spoke, making her seem even more unreal.

  “And you, Adriel… have come here,” she concluded, her gaze gentle but full of intent.

  Astaria held his gaze a moment longer, as if weighing how ready he was to hear what came next. Then, with a subtle sigh, she went on:

  “See… under normal circumstances, you shouldn’t have come to my realm,” she said frankly, without hedging. “I am not the goddess who created or tends to Earth, the world you come from.”

  Adriel furrowed his brow slightly—silent, but wide-eyed.

  “However,” she continued calmly, “I’ve had contact with souls from your world more than once. The god who governs Earth and I have had a good relationship for a very long time. We share knowledge, thoughts… even favors, from time to time.”

  There was serenity in her words, but a depth in her eyes that was hard to read.

  “And this time… I intervened directly.”

  Adriel narrowed his eyes, starting to connect the dots. Something in Astaria’s tone, in the way she looked at him, told him it wasn’t a coincidence that he was here.

  He braced a hand on the grass and, with a tone more curious than grave, asked, “The god of Earth, you said? What is his true name?” He paused briefly, then looked back to her. “More importantly… what do you expect of me, Goddess Astaria?”

  Astaria tilted her head, a half-smile touching her lips—sweetness threaded with melancholy. “So you’re curious about the name of the god who presides over Earth, hm?” she said, almost playfully. Then her expression grew more serious. “Sadly, no one on Earth knows his true name. And I… cannot tell you.”

  Adriel looked mildly surprised, but didn’t interrupt.

  “It was his request,” she explained gently. “Millennia ago, he suffered a profound disappointment with his creation. Since then, he has stopped intervening in his world’s fate. Not because he stopped caring… but because he no longer has the strength to.”

  Her gaze lowered for a moment, as if honoring a sacred memory. “At present, he confines himself to watching from his realm. He does not judge, he does not guide… he only watches. It’s… complicated,” she added, meeting Adriel’s eyes again. “But out of respect for him—and for his silence—I cannot tell you his name.”

  Astaria fell silent for a moment, as if weighing each word with care. Her gaze softened even further, and her voice—though quiet—turned more intimate, more sincere.

  “Now, as for what I expect of you…” she said, fixing her eyes on Adriel’s again. “The truth is… I’ve been watching you for years.”

  Adriel blinked, surprised.

  “Every night, when you went to sleep, I could see how you longed not to wake. I felt the helplessness that pressed on you day after day, and I also saw the potential—that hidden glimmer you never knew how, or were able, to use in that life.”

  Adriel lowered his eyes; his fingers tightened slightly in the grass. Those words cut deeper than he expected.

  “You see,” she went on, serene, “over the centuries it happens, now and then, that souls destined for one world end up in another that isn’t theirs. It isn’t exactly a mistake… it’s simply part of the system. Something that happens.”

  “You mean… reincarnating where they don’t belong?” Adriel whispered.

  Astaria nodded slowly.

  “Your case was no exception. People born in worlds that aren’t theirs tend to live feeling out of place, misunderstood… estranged from everything. Some manage to adapt; others lose themselves.”

  Then her expression shifted, as if she were about to voice something very few knew.

  “But among them, a few—very few—show what we call the potential. It’s a unique trait of the soul… a kind of energy, a resonance that sets it apart from the rest. We still don’t fully understand whether it’s random or triggered by some specific factor. But when it appears… it does not go unnoticed.”

  Astaria’s gaze drifted to the sky, as if searching the clouds for fragments of distant memories. Her lips parted softly, but her voice came heavier than before, tinged with a certain sadness.

  “Over the last two centuries, I’ve been watching Earth,” she said. “I was searching for people who showed that… potential. Souls who, like you, never felt they belonged to the world they’d been cast into.”

  She paused. The wind stirred her hair, as if even nature were listening with respect.

  “I had to wait for their lives to end before I could ask for their help. I couldn’t intervene earlier… the rules are very strict in that regard.”

  Adriel listened closely. For the first time, the goddess didn’t feel distant or unreachable. There was something deeply human in her expression.

  “In all… I recruited four before you,” she said with an almost imperceptible sigh. “They all had the potential. They all agreed to help me. But… none of them managed to fulfill their mission.”

  A shadow crossed her face. There were no tears, no despair, but a genuine pain hid in the serenity of her voice.

  “Now… you are the fifth.”

  Her eyes found Adriel’s again—this time full of hope, and a quiet fear as well. It wasn’t the first time she had placed her faith in someone.

  But perhaps… it would be the last.

  Adriel frowned, still processing what he’d just heard. His voice came out lower, weighted with respect, surprise, and a flicker of doubt.

  “Four others came before me…?” He paused, then lifted his gaze to her. “What is it you need help with, exactly, Goddess Astaria? And what became of them? Did they…?”

  He didn’t finish. Something in his chest told him he didn’t want to hear the answer—and yet he needed it.

  Astaria held his gaze. There were no smiles now, no gentleness—only a pure, honest clarity.

  “Sadly… they did not accomplish their charge,” she said softly. “The enemy they faced was stronger than they were.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, as if each memory hurt.

  “They didn’t fail for lack of resolve, nor out of cowardice. They all fought to the end. But their abilities… simply weren’t enough.”

  A heavy silence settled between them. The breeze no longer felt so warm.

  Adriel lowered his gaze, a slight chill tracing his spine. He hadn’t known those four, but something in the way Astaria spoke of them made it impossible not to respect them.

  Astaria looked down briefly, and when she raised her eyes again, her expression had changed. It wasn’t only melancholy now… it was frustration.

  “The last one before you…” she said quietly, “I summoned him thirty years ago.”

  Adriel’s brows lifted, surprised.

  “He’s the only one whose fate… I do not know. I lost all contact with him. Every attempt to find him… has been in vain.”

  Her right hand closed softly over her tunic, as if holding back more than words.

  “That isn’t all. I’ve already reached the limit of souls I can approach outside my own domain,” she went on, her tone revealing genuine concern. “It’s against the norms of the Celestial Realm to intervene directly with souls from other worlds… unless they first pass through the Cycle of Souls.”

  Adriel watched her, not interrupting for a second.

  “You see, for a soul to reincarnate, it must be purified. In your world you’d call it something like a ‘reset.’ A total cleansing: memories, emotions, traumas, passions, bonds… everything is erased.”

  Astaria pressed her lips together for an instant before continuing. “And when that happens… that special potential disappears as well. That’s why I had to personally lift those souls out of the cycle before they were reset. I needed them to retain their essence. Their identity.”

  Her eyes locked onto Adriel’s now, filled with an intensity she hadn’t shown until that moment.

  “But… I can’t do it anymore. I’ve reached the limit of exceptions I was allowed. I won’t be authorized to take another soul. You… will be the last, Adriel.”

  She leaned toward him just a little, her eyes shining with something between hope and a plea.

  “I have no other chance. You are the last light I can kindle along this long road.”

  Adriel didn’t answer right away. His eyes lifted to the sky, that flawless blue mantle washed in the sun’s gentle warmth. For a few seconds he simply gazed at it in silence, as if searching that immensity for words he didn’t yet know how to say.

  So there are rules… limits… he thought.

  And her request… is basically a suicide mission.

  He closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel the wind brushing his face and, for the first time in years… there was no pressure in his chest.

  But… she truly needs help. You can hear it in her voice… see it on her face. She’s desperate.

  Then Astaria spoke again, her voice as serene as it was steady:

  “The mission I’m proposing may seem extremely risky. And it is. That’s why I want you to think on it, Adriel. If you decide not to accept… I won’t reproach you, nor will I try to persuade you. Your soul will be led to eternal rest, free of all burdens.”

  Adriel slowly turned his face toward her. Astaria kept her gaze fixed on him—no trace of pressure—only a bare, disarming honesty.

  “But if you accept…” she added, a faint light in her eyes, “I will give you every tool necessary to ease the weight of what I’m about to ask of you.”

  Her words lingered in the air with an echo that seemed to hang suspended in the heart of that world.

  And so, silence reigned again.

  Astaria’s words drifted away like leaves carried on the wind.

  And in that instant… Adriel spoke.

  “I accept, Goddess Astaria.”

  His voice was firm. He didn’t raise it—he didn’t need to.

  His eyes, once dulled by years of monotony and emptiness, now held a new spark. Small… but genuine.

  “In the end… you staked everything to bring me here. During my life—the one that’s now over—I was never able to do anything for anyone. I always wished… I could give life and hope to someone else. And even so, I died senselessly, without glory… like a flame that simply goes out without leaving a trace.”

  Astaria watched him in silence, without interrupting. She only listened, and nodded.

  “If you need my help… then I’ll give whatever it takes to repay the trust you’ve placed in me. You can count on me—for whatever you need.”

  A soft radiance wrapped around Astaria. Her expression—until then tense and tightly held—eased, as if an invisible weight had lifted.

  A smile—warm, sincere, profoundly relieved—touched her lips.

  “Thank you, Adriel.”

  In that instant, the sky seemed to shine more brightly.

  Upon hearing Adriel’s answer, Astaria felt a great invisible weight lift from her chest. There had always been a chance he would refuse… but deep down, she had sensed it.

  No—

  she had known.

  Adriel was the one.

  A soft, sincere smile touched Astaria’s lips, as if the warm breeze of that clear sky were flowing through her.

  “Thank you, Adriel,” she said at last. “As I mentioned, I won’t be able to intervene directly in your mission once it begins. However, I will place everything within my power in your hands so that, in your new life, you can grow stronger and carry out the plan.”

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  She stepped a couple of paces closer, her tone turning a shade more solemn.

  “But first… I need to give you the full context. You must understand exactly what it is you’re to do.”

  Astaria took another step forward, her expression now more serious—almost ceremonial. The eyes that had been warm and gentle now reflected the weight of centuries and the magnitude of what she was about to reveal.

  “See, a few millennia ago, I created the world I’m going to send you to,” she began. “It was part of a process you could think of as… a kind of graduation. A trial all gods must undergo to become full-fledged divinities within the Celestial Realm.”

  Adriel listened in silence, rapt. Astaria’s voice flowed like a river old with wisdom.

  “The scope and quality of those projects determine the rank each of us receives as a deity.”

  “The more ambitious, balanced, and flawless the world created… the higher the rank we’re granted.

  And with that rank, the size of the realm we’re given here in the Celestial Realm is also defined”

  As she spoke, Astaria lifted her right hand slightly. A faint radiance began to gather over her open palm and, slowly—as if woven from the very fabric of the universe—a to-scale projection of an entire solar system appeared before Adriel.

  Nine spheres revolved in perfect harmony around a radiant central star.

  Each planet gleamed with a distinct hue, their orbits clean and exact, like a celestial jewel in motion.

  Adriel watched, fascinated.

  “And how does it differ from Earth?” Astaria continued, without lowering her hand. “In your world, only one planet is habitable. But in Arka, the system I created, all the planets are set at a perfect distance from their star. All nine are fit for life.”

  She continued explaining

  “Another thing that differentiates the planets in this system from the one you came from is that their size is ten times greater than Earth's”

  Then her gaze returned to Adriel—more intent now, yet no less warm.

  “However, of those nine, I have focused on a single one… That is the world you’ll be sent to.”

  Adriel, who had been listening in silence with a furrowed brow, widened his eyes in astonishment.

  “Wait—ten times bigger than Earth?! Does that mean… life-forms there are gigantic by comparison?”

  At that, Astaria couldn’t help a soft laugh. It wasn’t mocking or arrogant—more a surprised, gentle amusement, as if she found his deduction endearing.

  “Not really,” she replied with a smile. “The life-forms I created there follow the same proportions as on Earth. That was a recommendation from the god who governs your world. According to him, that proportional range is the most suitable for sustaining life on a planet built from scratch.”

  Her tone grew a touch more technical, though it remained warm.

  “Larger life-forms would require far more complex adjustments at structural, ecological—even energetic—levels.”

  “It would have been risky and unstable, so I chose to follow his advice. So relax… you won’t find giants roaming everywhere over there,” she finished with a knowing look.

  Astaria continued, this time in a slower voice, as if weighing each word to avoid overloading him. “The only thing that truly differs from the world you come from, Adriel, is the flow of time as you knew it: the days, the months… even the years.”

  Adriel frowned slightly, trying to grasp what she meant.

  “You see,” the goddess went on, “because Auralpha is larger in proportion than Earth, its star is proportionally larger as well. That affects the length of its rotation and revolution—that is, how long it takes to spin on its axis and to orbit its sun.”

  Astaria lifted her hand, conjuring a new projection that hovered in the air: a planet turning slowly while a great star shed its golden light.

  “One day on Auralpha,” she explained, “equals about 30 of your hours. Weeks have 10 days, each month counts 40 days, and a full year totals 400 days. It may sound strange at first… but you’ll adapt.”

  Adriel studied the floating hologram, trying to let it all sink in.

  “You don’t need to understand everything now,” she added with a faint smile. “With time—and by living on Auralpha—your body and mind will settle into the new natural rhythm. What matters is remembering that here, everything flows more slowly… but with purpose.”

  Adriel nodded, absorbing her words. “Interesting… so it’s not just another world, it’s almost like an entirely different universe,” he murmured.

  Astaria let out a soft laugh. “That’s exactly what it is. Welcome to a place where even time dances to the rhythm the gods create.”

  Astaria rose lightly, gliding a few steps toward the starfield still hanging in the air. With a delicate motion of her hand, the image of Auralpha slowly turned, lit by bright points scattered across its surface.

  “Now that you better understand the world you’ll go to, it’s time to speak of its inhabitants… the Aetheri.”

  Adriel straightened a little more, listening as the goddess’s voice took on a solemn tone.

  “That is the name we gave the seven intelligent races that dwell on Auralpha. Seven branches which, though different in form, essence, and culture, share a single origin: the spark of life I sowed at this world’s dawn.”

  Astaria lifted a hand, and with each movement a different figure formed in the air:

  “First are the Vasto Sapiens…” A tall, elegant silhouette emerged with an ancient, potent presence. “They were the first—the closest to the divine… and the most fallen in their pride. I needn’t repeat their history, for soon you’ll live it in your own flesh…”

  The figure vanished, replaced by a simpler, human one.

  “Next, the Aurari,” she went on gently, “humans like you. Adaptable, curious, but fragile. They are the most widespread race in Elythera, though far from the only one.”

  Another figure followed, this time long-eared and serene of gaze.

  “The Elari, known to others as elves. Of ancient spirit and a deep bond with nature. Long-lived, wise… and often arrogant.”

  The image shifted to a stocky, stern-eyed form.

  “The Durnak—stout and proud, masters of forge and stone. Guardians of the mountains, ancient allies… and at times, formidable foes.”

  Then came a figure with furred ears and bright eyes.

  “The Ferali, or beastkin. A race divided into clans and shapes, with animal traits that range from subtle to wild. They are as diverse as they are unpredictable, but their loyalty… is hard to match.”

  The next figure was small, lively, with wide eyes and a mischievous smile.

  “The Lunari, also called halflings. Many underestimate them, but they possess a wit and intuition few can grasp. Travelers by nature, storytellers, lovers of art and magic.”

  Lastly, a silhouette of pure energy took shape, fluctuating as if its form were little more than an illusion.

  “And finally, the Manarii—spiritual beings born from mana itself. They exist in balance with magic, hard to see, impossible to catch. They are rare… and perilously mysterious.”

  Astaria let the figures fade one by one.

  “Each of these races plays a role in Auralpha’s balance. Their cultures, their gifts, their failings… all of it is part of the tapestry that wraps this world. Your story, Adriel, will begin among them. But the fate awaiting you… may be woven together with them all.”

  Adriel, still awed, nodded in silence.

  He kept his gaze fixed on the space where the seven races had hovered moments before, still trying to process everything he’d heard, when Astaria’s voice sounded again—this time graver, more intense.

  “But there is something else you must know.”

  The sky began to darken slowly. In the floating projection, Auralpha turned toward a continent shrouded in shadow, ringed by a vast mountain range black as the abyss.

  “In ancient times, all races lived in relative harmony. But five hundred years ago, after a devastating conflict led by the one now known as High Cleric Selmyra, a sundering arose that changed everything.”

  The image turned again, showing the geographic split: one side of Auralpha full of light and cities; the other, dark, dense with warped energy.

  “The nonhuman races were exiled from Elythera, the realm you will inhabit upon waking. They were forced to cross the range into what is now called the Lands of Darkness…” Astaria pressed her lips together, clear sorrow in her eyes. “An act of treachery dressed up as devotion.”

  “By Selmyra’s hand…?” Adriel asked, a knot in his throat.

  Astaria nodded slowly.

  “The woman I once considered a friend… a confidante. She stole from me, Adriel. She took a piece of my essence and used it to banish me from my own creation. Since then, she has ruled Elythera through the Conclave of Astaria, using my name to control, oppress… and destroy everything that doesn’t fit her vision of purity.”

  Adriel felt his chest tighten. There was a blend of anger and sorrow in the goddess’s voice—but also hope. As if… despite everything… she still believed in something.

  “Is that why you brought me?” he asked. “To free you… to free this world?”

  “Not only that,” she replied, her gaze unwavering. “I brought you because you, Adriel, are my last chance. You are the final spark of a plan that has waited for centuries. I don’t want you to fight for me, but for the truth, for balance… for the hope that Auralpha might one day heal its wounds.”

  She paused, lowering herself to his level, placing a hand over his chest.

  “And if, in the process… you find your purpose and redeem your past life… then we will have won far more than a battle.”

  Adriel looked down, his brows knit in inner conflict. The weight of the mission was beginning to feel tangible, real. After a few seconds of thought, he raised his eyes to the goddess and voiced the question that had been hovering between the lines for a while:

  “So… in short… am I to defeat Selmyra?”

  Astaria watched him in silence, but her look said everything.

  “What would that entail exactly?” he went on, voice lower. “Would it be enough to best her… or would I have to… kill her?”

  Astaria’s face darkened. Her lips trembled slightly, and for a moment she seemed to falter—not from fear, but from pain. At last she closed her eyes gently and answered, her voice laden with deep regret:

  “If necessary… yes.”

  Silence followed. The celestial wind carried the words away for a few seconds before Astaria continued, this time looking to the sky as if speaking to a distant memory.

  “The Selmyra who holds power now… is not the same prodigious, kind, radiant girl I met centuries ago. That young woman who dreamed of bettering the world, the one who walked at my side… no longer exists. What remains is only a reflection, warped by ambition… and by her fear of dying like any other mortal.”

  She looked back to Adriel, and the sadness in her eyes made her seem more human than divine.

  “I tried to reason with her. I tried… more than once. But there is no hope left in her heart. She has caused too much suffering, corrupted too much… And though it pains my soul, it is time for her to rest.”

  Adriel nodded, wordless. This wasn’t just any mission. It wasn’t only about saving a world. It was about ending a tragedy that had begun long before he ever existed.

  After hearing Astaria’s answer, Adriel closed his eyes for a moment. He drew a slow breath, as if sealing a promise within himself, and when he opened them again, he fixed them on the goddess with steady resolve.

  “Goddess Astaria… I already told you I’ll do what’s necessary to help. I am your servant, and I intend to see this mission through, no matter the cost. Not only because you’ve placed your trust in me, but because I feel… it’s the right thing to do.”

  He paused, then added more gently, “And when all of this is over—when Selmyra is freed from her ambition and Auralpha is given a new chance—I’m going to live this new life to the fullest. To show you how grateful I am for giving me a second chance.”

  His words—firm and honest—cut through the air like a warm breeze in the midst of a storm. Astaria, who had been holding her breath without realizing it, felt something within her ease as she listened. A genuine smile, delicate and radiant, curved her lips, dispelling for an instant the shadow that had crossed her face.

  “Thank you, Adriel…” she whispered, a blend of relief and hope in her voice. “Truly… thank you.”

  After that solemn vow, the space between them seemed lighter, as if a fresh wind had swept away the heaviness that had filled the air. Astaria straightened a little, brightness returning to her expression, and a spark of excitement lit her gaze.

  “Very well, my hero!” she exclaimed with a glowing smile, her tone clearly more buoyant. “Now we need to talk about the conditions—and the blessing—under which you’ll be reborn.”

  Adriel froze for a moment. The way she’d called him… “my hero.” Those words rang in his chest with an unexpected warmth. He wasn’t used to anyone speaking to him with such affection—much less in a tone so confident and cheerful. His heart gave a little skip.

  His face flushed, and for a few seconds he didn’t know how to respond. Embarrassment? Tenderness? Some strange mix of both? He simply looked away, scratching the back of his neck as if trying to play it off.

  “Ahem… that ‘my hero’ thing sounds… a little exaggerated,” he murmured under his breath, not quite daring to meet her eyes.

  Seeing his reaction, Astaria couldn’t help a soft, mischievous giggle.

  “Oh, come on… you’re blushing over that? How adorable.” Her voice carried a playful lilt, but also warmth—the kind of tone someone uses when they’ve truly begun to enjoy the other’s company. “You’re the last one who can receive my special blessing… I couldn’t just say it in a boring way, could I?”

  Astaria gently extended her hand, and the panels flared brighter. Each one began projecting images accompanied by snippets of information—brief scenes like memories trapped in crystal. Every family seemed to have a unique fate waiting.

  “These are the three options I found most compatible with you, Adriel. Take your time and look closely,” Astaria said softly, giving him the space he needed to examine each one.

  Option 1: The Ferien family, artisans of Marelis

  A scene showed a bustling port city on Elythera’s western coast. There, in the heart of Marelis’s trade district, lived the Ferien family, renowned for their ancestral craft of magical forging and crystal sculpture.

  “The Ferien have lived by their craft for generations,” Astaria explained. “They are humble, hardworking, with a deep bond to elemental magic. They’re neither powerful nor influential, but they carry a unique magical heritage and a strong sense of community. If you seek a simple life—one rich in deep emotional ties—this would be your place.”

  The panel showed a warm family supper, sincere laughter, and the glow of home.

  Option 2: The Delmira family, shepherds of Nauvina

  The next panel unveiled a mountainous landscape draped in green meadows in northern Elythera. The Delmira were a family of shepherds and herbalists, far from urban centers, living self-sufficiently in the region of Nauvina.

  “They are wise in nature’s ways,” Astaria added. “Though they live far from civilization, they hold ancient knowledge about mana’s properties in flora. Their lives are simple, peaceful… but also solitary. If you want a quiet life to find yourself again before embracing your destiny, this is the right setting.”

  The image showed rolling hills, open skies, and a slow life marked by nature’s cycles.

  Option 3: The Eryndel family, first-rank nobles in Rulid

  The last panel flared brighter and revealed a map of Elythera, tightening on its far south. A fortified city rose amid vast fields and sheltering mountains: Rulid. A city born of tenacity—isolated from the rest of the realm, yet surprisingly prosperous.

  “This is the option that most caught my eye,” Astaria said, her tone firmer. “The Eryndel family.”

  Images appeared of a young couple: a mother with a gentle expression and a father whose calm gaze was steady as iron. Around them, a small, industrious community—people living in harmony under the protection of that noble house.

  “They are first-rank nobles, which grants them very high status in Elythera, but unlike most, they aren’t interested in political power,” she explained. “They have governed Rulid for generations with justice and heart, and their distance from the Conclave of Astaria has made the higher clergy regard them with suspicion. Even so, they have proven incorruptible—steadfast in their values, and deeply human.”

  The city seemed cradled by striking natural beauty, ringed by mountains and forests, far from palace intrigue.

  “Their lineage is strong, but what defines them is their character. If you choose this family, you will have safety, room to grow, and a unique bond with Elythera’s heart… though you will not be free from eyes that question your origin,” she concluded, regarding Adriel with a blend of pride and hope.

  “Then, Adriel,” Astaria said with a smile as the panels drifted before him, “do you already know which will be your new family?”

  After studying the three options carefully, Adriel was sure. His gaze lingered on the panel showing the Eryndel family. There was something about that out-of-the-way city—about that noble yet different household—that drew him in deeply. Perhaps it was the aura of authenticity they gave off… or maybe the story of the couple who would become his parents.

  His future father, according to the records displayed, had been a skilled, renowned swordsman in his days as a student at the old Central Academy, before the Conclave of Astaria banned adventurers’ guilds. He belonged to a lineage of fighters who, for generations, had wielded the blade with honor and passion—a legacy now lying quietly dormant.

  But what captured his attention most was the woman who would be his mother. Unlike his father, there was very little information about her. It was known that she possessed exceptional magical talent and came from a discreet family, adept in the use of magic… but her past was a mystery, as if someone—or something—had erased it on purpose. Rather than discouraging him, that detail stoked his curiosity even more. Who was she, really? Why so little trace?

  Adriel didn’t hesitate further.

  “I choose the Eryndel family, in Rulid,” he declared, voice firm.

  Astaria watched him closely. Her expression stayed neutral for a few seconds, then she slowly turned in place, giving him her back for a brief moment. In a low voice, barely more than a whisper, she said:

  “So you choose them… mmm… it will be interesting to see who you’re going to be reborn as…”

  Then, as if nothing had happened, she looked back at him with a gentle smile. Adriel wasn’t sure how to read that reaction. For an instant he thought of asking, but decided not to make too much of it. Whatever lay behind that gesture, he would surely uncover it himself… in due time.

  “Very well, Adriel,” Astaria said with renewed energy. “Then it’s time to grant you the blessing that will accompany you in this new life!”

  After hearing his decision, Astaria nodded softly, as if another piece of the puzzle had finally clicked into place. Then, in an even voice, she said:

  “What comes next will be in two parts, Adriel. First, I will bestow my blessing—the mark that will identify you as one chosen by me and that will act as an oath, signed between your soul and mine. It won’t be as powerful as if I bestowed it from the wor—

  —from the mortal world, since there are certain divine limitations from here… but even so, it will serve as a seal of protection. It will shield you from the darkest dangers that may cross your path.”

  Adriel nodded without a word.

  “Show me your back, please,” the goddess asked with a calm smile.

  Without hesitating, Adriel turned, presenting his back to her. Astaria stepped close and placed the palm of her right hand at the center of his back, level with his heart. The instant she touched him, a deep warmth spread from that point, coursing through his chest with a comfort so profound that, for a heartbeat, he felt absolute peace. It was as if that warmth were caressing his very soul.

  A soft, bluish light blossomed from Astaria’s palm and gathered where she touched him. Slowly, a mystical emblem of elegant, sacred lines traced itself upon his skin, glowing for a few seconds before fading with a gentle flash. Though it could no longer be seen with the naked eye, the seal remained there—engraved into his being.

  “You can turn around,” the goddess said, stepping back with gentle grace.

  Adriel did so, still feeling that warm energy within.

  Astaria looked at him tenderly and began to explain: “What I’ve just placed upon you is the Seal of the Divine Oath—a spiritual mark that confirms your acceptance of this mission, and my protection over you. As long as that seal resides within you, your soul will be bound to mine. It will not allow you to be manipulated by dark influences or corrupted by malicious entities. It will also protect you in moments of extreme danger… though only a few times. It’s a limited resource, so use it wisely.”

  She paused a beat, then added, “That seal will also cause other divinities to recognize that you are under my protection… and it will keep the spirit world from viewing you as an aberration for having been reborn with your soul intact.”

  Adriel’s hands curled faintly into fists, feeling—for the first time in a long time—that he had a purpose… and that he was no longer alone.

  “Thank you… Goddess Astaria,” he said sincerely, a small smile on his lips.

  Astaria returned the smile—warm, maternal.

  “There’s still a second part,” she said—serene, yet full of force. “Now comes your true blessing, the one that will accompany you from your birth in Auralpha… But for that, you must choose the path you wish to walk.”

  Astaria regarded him seriously, though her expression still held that comforting sweetness that was so distinctly hers. She took a few steps forward as the space around them seemed to gleam faintly, as if the very celestial plane were preparing to seal something of great importance.

  “The next blessing, Adriel…” she began, “is not a mark, nor a passive seal like the last. This is a direct gift—a fragment of my power or a resource of real value that I offer you. Something that, if chosen wisely, will stay with you for the rest of your new life.”

  Adriel kept silent, listening closely.

  “It can take many forms,” Astaria continued: “a latent power within you, a sealed divine weapon only you can summon, an ally, forbidden knowledge, an innate aptitude, or even a unique condition that manifests under certain circumstances. The limit is set by Auralpha’s balance. I cannot grant you omnipotence or disturb the natural order—it would be unjust and dangerous for you and for everyone else.”

  Then she extended her hand, and before it, multiple spheres of light began to float—each different in color, intensity, and shape. Some were gold as the sun, others dark as a deep abyss; others danced with the energy of lightning, of wind, or of life itself. It was like standing before infinite possibilities.

  “Each of these spheres represents a type of blessing I could grant you—but if you prefer, you may propose one, and I will try to manifest it, as long as it lies within what the gods are allowed to bestow.”

  She met his eyes, her expression turning more solemn.

  “Think carefully about your choice. This will be your greatest tool—not only for this mission, but for your entire existence in Auralpha. It will be part of you. It will define you. Are you ready to decide, Adriel?”

  Adriel answered with a half-smile—no doubt in it, only resolve—as he held the goddess’s gaze.

  “I’m absolutely sure. I don’t want easy power or a shortcut. If I learned anything in my former life, it’s that anything gained without effort is worth nothing. If I’m going to live this new life… I want to do it my way. If I have to fight, if I have to grow, let it be because I worked for it.”

  Astaria watched him for a few moments in silence. Then a soft laugh slipped from her lips, as if she’d just heard an answer she’d longed to hear for a very long time.

  “You’re a special case, Adriel… Very well. Your wish has been heard.”

  She raised both hands to the sky, and the energy around them began to gather at a single point before Adriel. Of the spheres that had been floating moments ago, one of blue-violet hue flared with dazzling intensity. It drifted down and slowly fused into Adriel’s chest, where he felt a kind of inner spark erupt—as if his very soul had meshed with some colossal arcane machinery.

  Astaria then proclaimed with solemnity:

  “I grant you the Blessing of Infinite Progress—an ability that will manifest your strength as a system bound to your soul. As you fight, train, explore, and live… you will grow. Your skills will evolve with you. Your body and mind will adapt with every new challenge.”

  The goddess lifted a finger and, as if drawing in the air, traced an ethereal sigil before him.

  “I grant you access to the Soul Panel, a system only you can see. It will let you track your development, view your stats, manage your dimensional inventory, and assign the improvement points you earn by surpassing your limits.”

  Astaria lowered her hand and the sigil faded slowly into the air.

  “But remember: this gift is also a responsibility. Even if numbers and progress guide you, never forget that a soul’s true strength isn’t measured in figures, but in its convictions. And you, Adriel… you have the potential to be far more than a hero.”

  Then she stepped close and laid her hand gently upon his brow—a final benediction.

  “Go, and walk your path. With every step, every choice, every battle… you will draw nearer to becoming what you are meant to be.”

  Astaria regarded him in silence for a few heartbeats. Her eyes held a mingling of pride, tenderness… and sorrow—the kind only someone with centuries of wisdom can know, the kind that comes with the certainty that even the most beautiful moments must end.

  “Adriel…” she said softly, almost a sigh. “You don’t know what your words mean to me. You’ve brought light to a corner I thought had gone dark… and that, beyond any mission, is a gift I can never repay.”

  Adriel held her gaze. There was no fear or confusion left on his face. Only calm… and a resolve burning brighter than ever.

  “We’ll meet again, Astaria. In your world… our world. And when that happens, it won’t be as a messenger, or a mere pawn. It will be as someone who chose to stay—who chose to live… and build something real.”

  A gentle smile curved the goddess’s lips as she stepped to him and wrapped him in a warm embrace that seemed to fuse with his soul. It wasn’t a farewell—it was a see you soon, laden with hope.

  “Then I’ll wait for you, Adriel… as I have for centuries—but this time, with my heart beating again.”

  Light began to gather around him. A white, soothing glow covered him slowly, like a mantle of stars cradling him as he prepared to be reborn.

  “Go,” was the last thing he heard in Astaria’s voice before the light took him completely. “And live the way you were always meant to live.”

  And so, between the warmth of a parting and the promise of a new beginning, Adriel’s soul began to descend gently toward the world of Auralpha—toward a new life, a new story… and a destiny only he could forge.