The sun broke through the lingering mist of Veilwood Forest, its pale light spilling across the quiet hills. The morning air was still, heavy, as though the world itself knew that sorrow had seeped into its bones.
Kelvin stood alone on a sloping hill just beside the forest's edge, his cloak brushing against the dew-wet grass. Before him lay a freshly carved stone slab, its edges rough yet reverent, placed over a mound of earth that seemed far too small to carry the weight of a man's entire life.
On the slab, etched with careful, steady hands, were the words:
"Bowen Fletcher. Father. Warrior. Fallen Pillar of the Pacesetters Academy."
Apparently, Kaelen told him about the news of his passing last night back at the academy and Kelvin honestly has mixed feelings concerning this.
Kelvin's dark eyes lingered on the name, unblinking. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his fists clenched at his sides. He had thought he would feel nothing when this day came. For years, he had imagined Bowen's death with bitterness—his father's harsh words, his cold dismissals, the unrelenting blame that had been poured on him since the very day he was born.
Bowen had called him cursed.
Bowen had told him, time and again, that his mother's blood was on his hands because she died giving life to him.
Bowen had reminded him, with venom in his voice, that his sister—the one bright light in their family—was taken by the First Magi because of him.
Those words had scarred Kelvin deeper than any blade could.
And yet…
As the wind brushed past him, carrying the distant rustle of the forest, memories he had buried deep began to resurface.
He remembered small hands tugging at his when he was little—his sister laughing, Bowen lifting her into the air, smiling in a way Kelvin had almost forgotten his father was capable of. He remembered nights by the hearth when Bowen, though weary from training and war, would tell stories—of heroes, of great battles, of honor. Bowen's voice, strong and steady, had once been the sound that made Kelvin feel safe.
Before everything was shattered. Before loss turned that man into someone else entirely.
Kelvin swallowed hard, his throat tight. His heart warred within him—the fury of the abandoned son against the lingering love of a boy who had once idolized his father.
"Damn you, old man…" Kelvin muttered, his voice breaking as his gaze dropped to the slab. "You blamed me for everything. You hated me for simply existing. You… you made me wish I wasn't even born."
His voice trembled, but he didn't stop. The words poured out, raw and unfiltered.
"But I remember… I remember the father who used to smile. The one who carried her on his shoulders. The one who—" his chest hitched "—who used to look at me without hate in his eyes. And I can't forget that. No matter how much I want to."
Tears welled in his eyes, slipping down his cheeks unbidden. He knelt down slowly, his knees pressing into the wet earth, and laid a hand gently on the stone.
"I hate you… and I love you," Kelvin whispered. "And because of that, I forgive you. Not for you. Not for what you've done. But because I can't carry this hate anymore. It's too heavy… and I've carried it my whole life."
His shoulders shook, the weight of years of anger, grief, and unspoken love spilling out of him. For the first time in so long, Kelvin allowed himself to cry—not the tears of rage, but of release.
The breeze shifted, soft and warm, as though the forest itself offered him a silent embrace. And Kelvin, broken yet resolute, closed his eyes and let it wash over him.
When he finally stood again, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve, his eyes burned with something new. Not hate. Not even grief. But a quiet, steadfast resolve.
"Rest now, Father," he murmured, his voice steadier than before. "I'll carry your name… in my own way."
And with that, Kelvin turned his gaze back toward the horizon, where war and destiny still awaited him.
---
That very afternoon, the familiar towers of Pacesetters Academy rose before them, its banners rippling proudly in the wind. Yet the atmosphere inside the grand halls was heavier than ever before.
In the central war chamber, they gathered:
Drake Grey, unlike last night, was stern and vigilant, arms folded as his sharp eyes surveyed the room.
Kang, quiet but imposing, leaning against the wall with his weapon close by.
The radiant forms of the Eternals, their presence commanding reverence, each exuding power that warped the air around them.
Their friends—Morris, Guinevere, Charlotte, Christopher, Ethan, and Eirana—stood ready, faces hard but determined.
The chamber was tense with the weight of their shared struggles and the looming threat of Endless.
It was the Eternal of Judgement who spoke first, her voice echoing with divine authority. "The war is not yet at its peak. Endless feeds upon every moment of hesitation, every weakness. You are strong, but strength alone will not suffice. You must become more."
Murmurs rippled through the group.
"So what do you suggest we do at this moment" Kang suddenly asked as his eyes fell on her.
After looking into the eyes of all of them, The Eternal of Judgement finally replied solemnly. "Well, what else can we do except to get stronger?"
Then, at that moment, the Elemental Eternal then stepped forward, his aura shimmering with the harmony of fire, water, earth, and wind. He fixed his gaze on Morris and Guinevere. "You two will come with me. Morris, the mantle of the Elemental God is yours by blood and destiny. Guinevere, your mastery of flame will deepen until the stars themselves burn in your wake. Together, your elements will transcend what mortals call power."
Morris exchanged a glance with Guinevere, who clenched her fist in determination.
The Eternal of Judgement raised his hand, his presence sharp and unyielding. "Eirana, Christopher, Charlotte, Ethan—you four will follow me. Judgement requires clarity, discipline, and balance. Under my eye, you will learn to wield not just power, but truth itself."
Eirana nodded firmly, while Ethan smirked faintly, trying to mask the gravity of the moment.
Finally, the Judgement Eternal spoke to Kaelen, Kelvin, Lila, Drake, and Kang. "As for you… your path must be carved in isolation. Since you lot have already achieved the level of power that we cant help to improve with the state we are now in, you will be the blade that will pierce Endless's heart, and to wield that edge, you must retreat into a your corners. Sharpen yourselves until nothing remains but resolve and victory."
A heavy silence followed. Each of them felt the finality in those words.
Drake broke it, his deep voice steady. "So, we scatter… to grow stronger apart, so we may stand together when the end comes."
Kaelen's hand unconsciously tightened around Lila's, his gaze shifting across the room to each of his companions. "Then that's our choice. We'll train, we'll rise… and when we return, Endless will fall."
A flame of determination lit in their eyes, one by one, until the chamber blazed with silent vows.
The meeting concluded not with celebration, but with resolve—each heart burdened by the trials to come, yet unshaken in their unity.
The room was just beginning to disperse. Plans had been decided — Morris and Guinevere preparing to leave with the Elemental Eternal, Ethan and the others standing by the Eternal of Judgment, while Kaelen, Kelvin, Lila, Drake, and Kang gathered their resolve for their own path of isolation.
But before anyone could move a step further, Drake's voice cut through the shifting silence.
"Wait," he said firmly, raising a hand. His sharp gaze swept across Kaelen, Lila, Kelvin, and the others. "Before you depart, there's one more matter to address. There are… allies you all must meet."
Kaelen narrowed his eyes. "Allies?"
Even the Eternals turned their attention toward Drake with faint curiosity.
The massive doors at the end of the grand hall opened slowly, light spilling across the polished floor. One by one, a group of figures stepped forward. Tall, graceful, and radiating an aura of ancient mana, their presence was impossible to mistake. Elves.
At the forefront walked Maeralyn, her silver hair cascading like moonlight, and beside her strode Velyrian, carrying himself with the dignified silence of a Half Seer steeped in centuries of experience. Behind them were a few others, each cloaked in the emerald-green sigils of their kind.
Kaelen's brow tightened, his hand instinctively twitching toward his blade. The memory of how the elves had once treated Lila, how they had marked her as a being that need to be kept in a bottle for all eternity and will be used to their bidding, burned hot in his mind.
But before he could voice the rejection already rising in his chest, Maeralyn stepped forward. Her emerald eyes softened as they locked onto Lila, who instinctively clutched Kaelen's arm.
"I know what you must be thinking, Kaelen Dragonyx," Maeralyn said, her voice calm yet heavy with solemnity. Then she turned toward Lila, lowering her head in a gesture so rare it silenced even the skeptical murmurs of those in the hall.
"On behalf of my race, I swear this upon the roots of Ysilwen, the eternal tree of the elves: never again will we bring harm to you, Lila. Not as a half-elf, not as a Seer, not as anything. Instead, we will protect you, guide you, and honor the gift your bloodline carries. This I swear, as Maeralyn of the Silver Bough."
Velyrian placed a hand over his chest and bowed in agreement, his deep voice resonating like stone.
"The oath is ours as well. We come not as oppressors, but as your kin."
A stunned silence filled the chamber. Lila's eyes widened, her grip on Kaelen's arm trembling slightly. She looked from Maeralyn to Velyrian, her breath unsteady.
Kaelen, however, did not move. His gaze remained sharp, his aura faintly flaring. He could sense no deceit in their words, but trust was another matter entirely.
Still, the oath Maeralyn had sworn was not one that could be broken lightly. If she truly bound it to her race and the eternal tree, then to betray it would bring destruction upon them all.
Drake finally stepped forward, breaking the silence. "They will be joining us in this war. Whether we trust them fully or not… we cannot afford to deny powerful allies. Especially when Lila's bloodline is at stake."
The air grew thick with tension as Kaelen slowly shifted his eyes toward Lila. Her lips parted as if to speak, but she faltered, her emotions a storm of fear, hope, and confusion.
Kaelen exhaled quietly, then turned back to the elves. His voice was low, steady, and cold.
"I don't care what oath you've sworn. If any of you even think of betraying her, I'll erase your entire bloodline myself."
Maeralyn lowered her head again, this time not in formality, but in quiet acceptance.
"Then let that be our bond," she said softly.
The meeting room remained heavy with silence, the weight of new alliances — and old wounds — pressing on every soul present.