Beneath the sprawling canopy of the Ancient Tree of Elyria stood a secluded wooden house, crafted from living branches that twisted and curved to form its walls and roof. Vines and moss entwined the structure, blending it seamlessly into the natural surroundings. A soft, ethereal glow emanated from within.
In front of the house, a small clearing bloomed with wildflowers of every color. A clear brook flowed nearby, its beginning and end a mystery. The air hummed softly with the Ancient Tree's energy.
Arinthal stood before this peaceful scene, his back facing the house, hands clasped behind him. His dark, silken hair cascaded down his neck, with a solitary strand of white weaving through like a ghostly whisper. The morning light danced across his pale, alabaster skin, imbuing it with a subtle warmth.
As he shifted, his face came into view. His eyes, two voids of blackness, seemed to swallow the light around them. Yet within those depths, a faint spark glimmered, as if the cosmos itself had been distilled into their darkness.
A soft voice, barely louder than the rustle of leaves, floated through the clearing. "Baba?"
Arinthal turned, already sensing her small bare feet brushing through the dew-laden grass.
His void-black eyes softened, and a rare smile curved his lips — fleeting, but unmistakably a father's.
He turned to behold a tiny, porcelain-skinned girl, around eight years old. Her gray eyes were still heavy with sleep. Raven-black hair framed her delicate face, messy and tangled. She rubbed her eyes with tiny fists, like a drowsy kitten.
"Lyra," he said softly, gathering her into his lap as he sat down.
Lyra leaned against his arm, her fingers curling around the folds of his sleeve as her gray eyes blinked away the last traces of sleep.
"How was your sleep?" he asked.
"Same as always, Baba."
Arinthal's gaze lingered on her face, sensing there was more. "And?"
Lyra's voice dropped to a whisper. "I saw Mom again while I slept. I asked her real name, but she didn't tell me. She just smiled and said... 'When the time comes, you will know.'"
Lyra's fingers curled tighter around a blade of grass, twisting it until it snapped.
He pulled her gently closer, offering quiet comfort. "She told you to wait, didn't she? Great things come to those who do."
Lyra nodded, though her eyes still held a trace of sadness.
Arinthal's expression softened. "So, what did you do this time with her?"
Lyra's face brightened, her voice filling with excitement. "Baba! We walked through a beautiful garden filled with stars and flowers that shone like diamonds."
Arinthal's curiosity deepened. "And then?"
Lyra's words rushed out. "She showed me a tree with golden leaves that whispered secrets. I tried to understand, but I couldn't. She smiled and said, 'I will write it when the time comes.'"
"That's unusual. What else did she show you?"
Lyra's brow furrowed. "A river of memories, Baba. I saw pieces of memories, but they felt... incomplete."
Arinthal grew thoughtful. "The River of Memories is a mysterious realm. Only those with the key can unlock its secrets."
Lyra's curiosity sparked. "What's the key, Baba?"
Arinthal smiled. "That, my little one, is for you to discover."
As they spoke,Aiden — Lyra's eldest brother — emerged from the treeline, resting his wooden sword across his shoulders as he rolled his stiff neck, sweat glistening on his brow. His rugged, athletic frame, shaped by relentless training, radiated quiet confidence. His eyes, bright as polished amber, glowed with a warmth that softened his otherwise focused expression. He sat down beside Arinthal, gaze lifting to the sky.
Above them, the vast sky came alive with birds as large as trees. Their feathers shimmered in every color. Some danced with flames, others left glittering trails of ice. As they soared, their wings sliced through space itself, leaving rifts that healed seamlessly behind them. The sight was as mesmerizing as it was mysterious.
Lyra wrinkled her nose dramatically and waved her hand in front of her face. "Big brother, you stink!"
Aiden chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair. "That's what I get for swinging too long under the sun."
At that moment, a mist materialized around him, swirling like a miniature whirlpool. The droplets danced across his skin and clothes, washing away sweat and grime.
Aiden let the mist roll over him, exhaling in quiet relief. As the last droplets slid from his skin, he flexed his fingers, freshly clean.
Neither Lyra nor Aiden reacted to the display, both long accustomed to their father's quiet shows of power.
"Aiden, how's your progress with the Starlight Slash?" Arinthal asked.
Aiden's expression grew serious. "Improving, Father. But I still struggle to harness the celestial energy."
Arinthal nodded thoughtfully. "Remember — the Starlight Slash requires harmony between body and soul. Meditate on the ancient runes tonight. It will help you."
Lyra slid off Arinthal's lap, settling between her brother and father. "Brother, you know I met Mother again today? She said she'll come at your awakening."
Aiden smiled softly, his eyes brightening with quiet anticipation, though he had already guessed as much.
Aiden hesitated, the wooden sword tapping lightly against his boot as his fingers fidgeted on the hilt. "Father, may I ask you something?"
"You want to know why you cannot learn about your mother and my true name," Arinthal replied before the question was finished.
Lyra paused, the grass blade half-braided in her small fingers, her head tilting as her gray eyes snapped back to her father. "Yes! I want to know too."
Aiden gave a slow, determined nod. "Yes, Father. I want to understand the reason behind this secrecy."
Arinthal's gaze drifted toward the sky. His voice was calm and even. "After your mother's departure, I made a promise to protect you all. That promise came with a price: my name, and our past, had to remain hidden."
Aiden's brow furrowed. "But why, Father? What's so special about your name?"
"You are not ready to know yet. But the time will come, and the truth will be revealed."
Arinthal's expression softened. "Your mother's presence will return when the moment is right. Until then, focus on your training, and on each other."
As the sun climbed higher, a faint ripple passed through the air — almost as if the Ancient Tree itself had drawn a slow breath. A subtle breeze stirred the leaves, their whispering voices falling into sudden stillness. The family unconsciously drew closer to Arinthal, as if the silence itself had weight. Sensing the unspoken shift in the air he said.
"Today marks a new beginning for you" his voice steady and resolute. "Our paths will soon diverge but remember this: the Ancient Tree's energy binds you all. Trust in yourselves — and trust in each other."
Puzzled, Aiden asked, "What do you mean, Father?"
"The trial can't be delayed any longer."
Lyra sprang to her feet, nearly tripping over the hem of her tunic. "I'll go wake Ethan! He needs to know this too!" she chirped, already halfway toward the house.