A New Journey

The morning air was cool as Abell Vespera sat on a rocky outcrop overlooking the farmlands surrounding Iridius. His hand rested on the broken hilt at his side, the only piece of his sister Genevieve's sword that remained. He traced its intricate engravings, letting his thoughts drift.

"Keep your promises, Abell."

Genevieve's voice echoed in his mind, a distant memory that never truly faded. He gripped the hilt tighter. I will.

The sound of boots crunching against dirt pulled him from his thoughts. Keeko approached from behind, her white robe fluttering lightly in the faint breeze. Her expression was calm, but her eyes held the sharp edge of someone always assessing.

"Taking a moment to reflect?" she asked, her tone free of judgment.

"Just thinking," Abell replied, slipping the hilt back into his belt. "Trying to figure out what went wrong yesterday."

Keeko raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. "You learn more from your mistakes than your successes. Don't get stuck on what you did wrong—focus on what you'll do better next time."

"I know," Abell said, standing. His jaw tightened as he turned to face her. "But it's not just about getting better. It's about being ready when it matters."

Keeko's lips pressed into a thin line, but her voice was even. "Good. Hold onto that. Just remember, readiness isn't about knowing what will happen. It's about being able to face what comes."

Abell nodded, his resolve hardening. "I'll keep that in mind."

Keeko watched him for a moment longer, her sharp gaze softening slightly. "Training starts soon. Don't keep me waiting."

Without another word, she turned and walked back toward the village. Abell stayed behind for a moment, his hand brushing over the broken hilt at his side. I'll get there. I have to.

The restless energy in his chest wouldn't let him stay still. Yesterday's sparring session played over and over in his head—every deflected strike, every missed opening. His movements had felt slow, predictable. Keeko made it look effortless, and he hated that.

He tightened his fists. I need to do better.

Glancing back toward the village, he exhaled sharply and turned toward the forest. He wouldn't go far—just enough to clear his head and practice. Keeko had always said the forest was the best place to train focus. No distractions, no one watching.

The trees stretched endlessly ahead, towering and still. The crunch of leaves and twigs under his boots echoed faintly. Normally, the forest calmed him, a quiet retreat from the pressure of expectations.

But today felt different.

The usual rustle of leaves, the birdsong in the distance—it was gone. Everything was too quiet. The air felt heavy, pressing against his skin like a warning.

Abell slowed his steps, his senses prickling. He reached for the energy humming inside him, ready to summon his blade at any moment. His heart thudded in his chest, but he steadied his breath. You came here to focus. Don't lose it now.

The silence around him deepened. Then came the faintest sound—a low growl that sent a chill down his spine.

The air was heavy, the usual chorus of birds and rustling leaves replaced by a suffocating stillness.

He stopped. His senses prickled. Something was watching him.

A low, guttural growl broke the quiet, sending a chill up his spine. Slowly, Abell turned, luminous energy sparking to life in his palm. His sword materialized with a soft glow, the golden blade humming faintly in the dim light.

From the shadows, the creature emerged.

It was grotesque, its glowing, hollow skin stretched over sinewy limbs. Sunken eyes burned with malice, and the faint pulse of a malefic orb in its chest cast an eerie light over the forest floor.

Abell's breath caught. He'd trained for this moment, imagined it countless times. But facing a Malignant in the flesh was different. Its presence was suffocating, its energy seething with raw hunger.

The creature screeched, its limbs twitching as it lunged. Abell barely managed to raise his sword, deflecting the blow. The impact rattled his arms and sent him stumbling back.

The Malignant pressed forward, relentless. Its claws ripped through bark and dirt as Abell dodged and parried, sweat dripping down his face.

Focus. Watch its movements.

The creature feinted left, then struck from the right. Abell twisted just in time, his blade slicing across its arm. Golden light flared as the strike landed, and the creature hissed, stumbling back.

Abell didn't wait. He stepped forward with a powerful swing, aiming for its core. The Malignant darted to the side, its speed blurring, and retaliated with a swipe. Its claws raked across his shoulder, and pain flared as blood seeped through his tunic.

Abell gritted his teeth. He couldn't afford to hesitate. Not now.

The Malignant lunged again, but this time, Abell ducked low, driving his blade upward. The strike connected with its chest, golden energy surging as the blade glanced off the malefic orb. The creature shrieked, cracks splintering across its glowing core.

But it wasn't done yet.

The Malignant charged again, desperation driving its erratic movements. Abell held his ground, steadying his stance.

One more chance. Make it count.

The creature's claw sliced through the air, but Abell sidestepped, spinning to bring his blade down in a precise arc. The sword pierced the orb cleanly, and a burst of golden light erupted from the impact.

The Malignant let out a final screech before its body disintegrated into ash, leaving behind only the faint glow of the shattered orb on the ground.

Abell staggered back, his chest heaving. Pain pulsed through his shoulder, and his legs threatened to give out, but he was alive. More importantly, he'd won.

He sank to his knees, staring at the ash scattered at his feet. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Handled it," he muttered.

Back at the Village

When Abell returned to Iridius, Keeko was waiting by the house. Her arms were crossed, her sharp gaze narrowing as she took in the blood staining his shoulder.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice clipped.

"Malignant," Abell replied simply. "It's gone now."

Keeko stepped forward, inspecting the cut despite his protests. "You fought it alone?"

"I didn't have a choice," he muttered, brushing her hand away. "I won."

Her expression shifted, the faintest trace of relief flashing across her face before her features hardened again. "You're lucky," she said. "If it had been stronger, you might not have come back."

"I'm fine," Abell shot back. "You don't have to hover."

"Hovering keeps you alive," Keeko replied bluntly, stepping back. Her eyes lingered on him, sharp and assessing. "You're not ready for this, Abell.

Abell clenched his jaw. "Maybe if you trusted me instead of treating me like a kid, I'd be better prepared."

For a moment, she didn't respond, her gaze steady. Finally, she turned away. "Clean yourself up. We're going to the market."

The market was busy, the air thick with the chatter of townsfolk. Abell's attention was caught by a conversation nearby. "Malignant attacks are getting worse. When will the government help?" a woman said.

" The Alsaints are too busy lining their pockets," a cynical woman replied. "Knowing how the Alsaint's are our small-town isn't a priority sadly, when's the last time You've seen a luminary around these parts? They've been so preoccupied with bolstering their own wealth that we civilians mean nothing." The cynical woman said.

Do any of the 4 families care?" The west isn't the only region with issues" she sighed, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

Abell's heart pumped at the mention of Malignants, wishing he could fight one at this very moment to blow of some of his anger.

Keeko nudged him with a grin. "C'mon, focus on the market, not the gossip."

They passed through the bustling crowd, many people thanking Keeko for her protection. Abell couldn't help but feel a bit proud of his mother—she wasn't always so well-regarded.

As they moved past the crowd, a statue in the heart of the market caught Abell's eye. It was the statue of the Liberator—heroic, proud, larger-than-life. Abell's gaze hardened as he stared at it, clenching his fist. One day, I'll be a top Luminary. No one will doubt my strength. Not for the glory, but to prove to myself that I can do it.

Abell's heart pumped at the mention of Malignants, wishing he could fight one at this very moment to blow of some of his anger.

Keeko nudged him with a grin. "C'mon, focus on the market, not the gossip."

They passed through the bustling crowd, many people thanking Keeko for her protection. Abell couldn't help but feel a bit proud of his mother—she wasn't always so well-regarded.

As they moved past the crowd, a statue in the heart of the market caught Abell's eye. It was the statue of the Liberator—heroic, proud, larger-than-life. Abell's gaze hardened as he stared at it, clenching his fist. One day, I'll be a top Luminary. No one will doubt my strength. Not for the glory, but to prove to myself that I can do it.

"Face me, Abell!" a voice rang out.

Abell turned to see Misha, the village troublemaker, perched on a nearby stall with a wooden sword raised high. His grin was wide, his energy boundless.

"Misha! Get down from there!" Astrid's exasperated voice followed. She rushed over, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry, Abell. He's always like this when you're around. He doesn't mean any harm."

"It's fine," Abell muttered, though his patience was already wearing thin.

Misha leapt from the stall, landing with a thud. "Fight me!" he declared, pointing his wooden sword at Abell like a seasoned warrior. "Show me your light sword!"

"Not now, Misha," Abell said, waving him off.

But Misha wasn't about to back down. With a dramatic battle cry, he charged. Abell sighed, stepping to the side. He flicked Misha lightly on the nose, sending him tumbling to the ground.

"No fair!" Misha whined, sitting up and rubbing his face. "You're supposed to use your light sword, not just your hand!"

Abell smirked. "It's not a toy, Misha. Besides, you're not worth the effort."

The crowd around them chuckled, though a few frowned and whispered among themselves. Abell's smirk faded slightly. He could feel their disapproving gazes, and it made his stomach twist.

Astrid quickly stepped in, grabbing both Abell and Misha by the arm. "Come on, Misha. Let's go find Mom before you cause more trouble." She glanced at Abell, her expression apologetic. "Thanks for humoring him."

Abell nodded, watching as Astrid dragged Misha away. The boy still pouted, mumbling under his breath about unfair fights.

Abell found Keeko in the middle of a conversation with a tall man, his presence commanding despite the casual way he was dressed. Abell eyed him, noting the battle-worn look of his tunic, the faint scar under his eye, with stars for pupils, and the broad grin on his face that contrasted his rugged appearance.

"Keeko!" the man greeted cheerfully, as if nothing had changed. "Still as youthful as ever!"

She quickly became frustrated at the remark about her age, prompting her to deliver a swift strike at the jolly man. He dodged with ease, a smug grin plastered across his face, which only deepened her displeasure.

Her smile tightened. "Why are you here, Hugo?" she asked, clearly frustrated. "I thought I had hid my location well from the Luminaries."

"We were bound to find it," Hugo replied, his voice playful but with a hint of seriousness. "This is one of the safest spots in western Eudora. Someone with power had to be here." His eyes flickered toward Abell. "So, this is what you've been hiding."

Before Keeko could respond, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, silencing the chatter of the marketplace. Panic spread through the crowd in an instant, as villagers ran in every direction.

Abell's heart raced. Adrenaline surged through his veins as his focus shifted entirely to the chaos unfolding around them. "Is it on of them?" he asked, scanning the crowd.

His answer came swiftly—a group of Malignants, grotesque and unnatural, surged into view, their hollow eyes filled with a primal hunger.

As the Malignants drew closer, their malevolent energy became palpable; terrified screams flooded the market as chaos erupted. Villagers ran in all directions, desperately trying to escape the imminent danger.

With the market gradually emptying, Abell felt a confident smirk tugging at his lips. He opened his palm, channeling the energy within him. Harnessing his Trait, Lumination, he turned luminous energy into solid objects. In an instant, a brilliant sword, shining with a glimmer of golden light, materialized in his left hand.

"Finally, some action," he said, feeling the thrill of the fight stir within him. "I was starting to get annoyed."

Hugo's expression shifted to one of surprise. "Interesting…" he murmured, eyeing the sword with awe.

Abell stepped forward, ready to face the chaos.