Heir of the Lost Wish

The cart stopped in front of the immense walls of Edonia. Each stone seemed charged with an ancient power, engraved with complex runes that pulsed with an imperceptible glow. An invisible barrier covered the city.

A guard in armor, tall and imposing, stood before the colossal gates. At the sight of the man in the straw hat, his eyes widened slightly before he hurriedly bowed in respect. Without a word, he gestured to the sentries stationed atop the ramparts, and the massive gates slowly opened with a deep rumble.

Lucian had only a few seconds to take in what he saw before the cart continued its advance into the city.

As soon as he set foot on the immaculate cobblestones, he was struck by the magnificence of the place. The streets were wide and perfectly maintained, lined with buildings with elegant facades and roofs adorned with refined sculptures. Everything here breathed grandeur and wealth. The passersby, dressed in noble fabrics and refined outfits, carried a natural dignity, as if they were part of a world far different from the one he came from.

The vast avenues led to open squares where sculpted fountains stood, their water sparkling under the sunlight. Tall towers, rising like arrows towards the sky, testified to the ambition and power of the capital. Everything was dazzling.

The cart stopped in front of an imposing white stone building with many windows and bluish banners fluttering in the wind. The dormitory was outside the Academy of Ether. Even without knowing its prestige, it was clear at a glance that only the most talented could set foot there.

Hiro jumped off the cart with a fluid motion and handed a bundle of papers to Lucian.

"Here are your papers. Your instructions are inside, don't lose them."

Lucian grabbed them with one hand, casting a glance at the massive entrance of the dormitory. He had finally arrived...

Hiro ruffled his hair with a rough gesture.

"Take care of yourself, little colossus. We'll meet again soon."

Lucian looked up, surprised. That nickname... It had come from his father. For a moment, a strange warmth flooded him. He, who didn't easily form attachments, had to admit that he had grown accustomed to Hiro's presence. After all, they had traveled together for days, shared meals, fought...

He hesitated to say something, but the whistling mercenary had already turned, walking away with a casual step without looking back.

Lucian slowly pushed open the large door of the dormitory and entered a vast hall illuminated by crystals set in the walls.

Around him, students went about their business, some in impeccable uniforms, others wearing more personal outfits, but all displaying obvious confidence.

Lucian approached a reception desk where a strict-looking woman was scanning records. When she looked up at him, her expression remained neutral.

"Name?" she asked in a curt tone.

"Lucian Aether."

She quickly checked her documents and nodded.

"Room 317, west wing. Here's your key. Your belongings should already be there. Classes start tomorrow, and an orientation meeting is scheduled in an hour in the main auditorium. Don't be late."

Lucian grabbed the key and thanked her briefly before heading toward the west wing.

When he finally opened the door to his room, he discovered a simple but comfortable space: a single bed, a massive wooden desk, a wardrobe, and a small shelf still empty. Near the window, an Academy uniform was neatly folded, accompanied by a scroll detailing the rules of the institution.

Lucian put on the luxurious uniform of deep blue, adorned with golden buttons and a pristine white collar. The fabric was finer than anything he had ever known, tailored with such precision that it fit his frame perfectly.

Turning to the mirror hanging near the wardrobe, he observed his reflection. With his silver hair and eyes as dark as ink, he looked like a young prince from a noble lineage.

Lucian decided to explore the city before the meeting at the auditorium. As soon as he stepped outside the dormitory, he felt the eyes on him. His elegant appearance piqued the curiosity of the students. Some whispered among themselves, wondering which prestigious family he might come from.

Ignoring the murmurs, he ventured into the paved streets of the capital. Everything seemed oversized, as refined as it was imposing. The finely sculpted stone buildings, the gleaming metal signs, and the bustling streets gave off an atmosphere that was both noble and lively.

As he walked through the city, his gaze was drawn to a massive church standing at the end of a large square. Its white stone walls, marked by time, emitted a solemn aura. Majestic despite its age, it dominated the space with all its grandeur, like an unchanging relic of the past.

Crossing the large doors of the church, Lucian suddenly felt a slight pain in his head. He placed a hand to his forehead, but the sensation disappeared almost immediately.

The interior was vast and silent, bathed in the dim light from the stained glass windows. As he advanced, his gaze fell upon a massive statue at the center of the choir. It depicted a man in magnificent armor, raising his sword to the sky, as if challenging the heavens themselves.

There was only one other person in the church. A man dressed in a simple white shirt, with hair as golden as purest light. He was almost unnaturally beautiful, and yet something in his gaze seemed detached. He was staring at the statue without an ounce of reverence, an odd feeling hanging around him.

The man with golden hair remained still in front of the statue, then, without even looking at Lucian, he said in a neutral tone:

"I've never seen you here before."

Lucian raised an eyebrow. *How can he say that without even looking at me?* he thought.

With absolute calm, he simply replied:

"I arrived today."

His voice was direct, without hesitation. A brief silence fell before the stranger spoke again, still impassive:

"Did you know? This church was here before the kingdom was created. Yet, no one really knows the identity of the man represented here. Over time, people turned him into some kind of deity."

Lucian shrugged slightly and answered thoughtfully:

"Probably one of those heroes from the Golden Age… Those who became Chosen at that time."

The man with golden hair gave a slight amused smile before letting out a quiet laugh. Then, in a calm but penetrating voice, he responded:

"A Chosen, you say… The bodies of those who ascend the Ascension change profoundly. The Sages retain eternal youth, the Emperors live for more than two centuries… and the Chosen are immortal."

His gaze finally fell on Lucian, piercing as if trying to read his thoughts.

"If this man was truly a Chosen, then tell me... How did he die? Who could have killed him? A God? A Demon, perhaps? And if this creature truly existed… did it just die as if by magic after killing him?"

He turned slightly, observing the statue with an unreadable look.

"Legends always hide a part of the truth. But sometimes, what is forgotten is forgotten for a reason."

Lucian watched the man as he moved toward the exit. He gave off no presence, no sign of power… and that was exactly what made him so terrifying.

As he passed by him, Lucian felt a slight shiver run down his spine, as if something inexplicable had brushed against his soul.

Just as he was about to leave, the man stopped for a moment and, without turning, said in an enigmatic tone:

"You have a very nice sword."

Lucian frowned slightly. It wasn't a question, nor a simple compliment. There was something unsettling in the way he said it.

But before he could respond, the man exited through the door. The sunlight embraced his figure one last time before he disappeared, leaving Lucian alone before the silent statue.

Lucian felt subtle fluctuations emanating from his sword. Instinctively, he drew it, and at that moment, the engravings along the blade glowed with a spectral light.

The ancient letters, barely visible before, now shone with mystical intensity, revealing the inscription:

**"May my blade be the shadow of the King."**

His heart skipped a beat. Those words...

*Could this man be the...?*

A light breeze passed through the church, causing the flames of the candles to flicker. Lucian instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

Looking at the statue and recalling the stranger's words, a strange anxiety gripped Lucian. Yet, instead of recoiling, he felt a fascination growing within him. Since his childhood, mysteries had always drawn him in.

Slowly, he approached the statue. The armored man raising his sword to the sky seemed imposing, timeless. Without really knowing why, Lucian reached out and placed his fingers on the cold stone.

At that instant, an imperceptible vibration ran through his arm, like a silent echo to this strange connection. The engravings on the statue's blade slowly began to glow, a faint but perceptible radiance. A subtle, almost imperceptible movement, as if the stone itself was responding to his touch.

Lucian froze, his eyes fixed on the blade. He could now clearly see the words forming, the ink of the engravings shimmering with a pale light:

"Ô

Death,

become

my

blade

once

again."

The shiver that had run through him did not fade. This wasn't just a physical reaction; it was as if something else was awakening, a presence he couldn't explain. But how was this possible? He hadn't even formed his Nexus yet, he had no essence of soul...

An odd thought invaded his mind. And what if, precisely because he didn't yet have this essence of soul, he had been able to activate this engraving? Like a blank page, he had no magical interference, nothing to disturb what was happening before him.

He moved closer to the statue, gazing at the engraving that, at this moment, seemed almost alive, as if it was calling him. The words glowed for a moment before fading back into the stone, disappearing again.

Lucian stepped back, his heart beating faster. He knew what he had just experienced wasn't ordinary, but he still didn't understand why or how.

A distant echo resonated through the city. He sighed softly, realizing it was time to leave. With a calm step, he exited the church, leaving behind the frozen figure of the unknown warrior.