A Misty Dream; A Forlon Promise

[Mael Hellgate]

--Several Hours later--

The sun had begun to cast a veil of dense light upon the landscape signaling the approach of nightfall. After they left the village gates the Mayor told Mael to follow him. However, what he needed to show him could only be done after the sun had set. The sun…weren’t there two? Regardless, He decided to not return to the cabin but found a cozy hill not too far from where the mayor wanted to meet up. He had been lying here for hours just watching the clouds drift by. Despite his racing thoughts his eyes looked almost detached as if he was dissociating from it all. Whenever he tried to remember anything before he woke up here he was met with an intense mental fog. He was known for being a clutz who hit his head a lot and got temporary amnesia from it. This time around was the worst that any of them had seen. On the surface that seemed to be reliable but...it didn't feel that way. It felt like...opposition. Like something was trying to keep him from remembering. It was just a hunch but one that kept nagging him in the back of his mind. No one could tell him how he got here, nor how long he had been here. Only that his being here was part of some prophecy left behind by their savior.

"Dream realms, living nightmares... and an evil Queen...what the hell am I supposed to do against something like that?"

Everyone here seemed to be so sure of him. Inexciabllpy convinced that he would prove to be their savior reborn, a guiding light born anew. Yet, Mael was not so sure as the rest of them. Whatever force they thought he came from he...did not feel connected to it There was no pulse, no spark, he felt like a regular person, no different than the villagers here. Except when he was near Laya, for some reason, when he was next to her he felt something in the pit of his stomach, a deep gentle warmth, it was different than his usual anxiety, if anything it was the opposite. Next to her, he felt like he could conquer anything...

"Do you trust me, Mael?"

"But why do I? I...I don't even know anything about her."

"Yeah Laya, I do."

His face furled into a grimace as he watched the day become night.

"She believes in me though, they all do. I can't turn back now."

He said as he picked himself off the ground dusting off his clothes. It was time to meet the mayor and make sense of all this. He made his way back to the village center. The place was pretty empty most of the villagers had retired to their homes except the guards who patrolled to ensure things were safe and in order. Lanterns dimly lit the town, Oakridge was a beautiful place full of honest and hard-working people. Whatever he might personally feel about himself he couldn't ignore the glint in the eyes of everyone who knew of the legend. The weight of that expectation its comfort and its sting reminded him of something...so near but felt so far. Despite it all he had to at least try.

"I.. don't have a lot of faith in myself...So, I'll trust in those who trust in me instead!"

"Ah Mael my boy, you've made it."

"Hey there gramps...what're we doing back here by the statue?"

He said with a casual wave to the mayor to which the man smiled.

"This here is no mere statue, my boy. Mael, many of us have a choice in what we want to be in this world, you to have that choice. Prophecy, and legends, are stories given weight by those who share faith in them. No one ever knows with certainty what the future may hold. You though, regardless of the aftermath can choose to stand against it. To turn away from it. Creating a future that no one could anticipate. Before we go any further tell me what you wish to achieve?"

Mael's expression was one of ponder. Why was the old man giving him an out? After all the build-up why give him the choice to back away? No, to truly understand this world's nature, he had to move forward. Besides, he couldn't stomach the thought of leaving the villagers to fend for themselves against whatever attacked the mercenaries. He couldn't live with himself knowing that there was even a chance he could've kept this place from ruin and he decided to try AB’s save his skin. He wasn’t the bravest kid but he refused to be the kind of coward that abandons people in need.

"I appreciate it mayor, but no thanks. I may not have many memories before today, but everyone here has treated me with kindness. When I'm here, there is this...serenity I can't explain, I normally am filled with so much anxiety I can't think or act straight. But here, in Oakridge, seeing the villagers, you and Laya, I feel the peace you have safeguarded. I know this place and its people are good. This is how life should be, people smiling, so I will stand with you all. Besides..."

He said as he looked at his hand, under the gaze of the moon and stars night sky he could feel the gentle humming of a presence surrounding him. As if his being was responding to the light above him.

"I may not share your devotion to destiny nor fate but I can't say I hold a lot of faith in sheer coincidence either. I...I wish to know just what it is I’m truly meant to do. What is the grand design behind all these moving pieces? The title of Sovryn, what that entails, and what the aim of the Awakened Queen is. Even though I have so many more questions than answers, I have this feeling like I'm supposed to be here, supposed to be doing this. I want to find it and see for myself. What the source of my strength is. What I'm truly capable of. To look in the mirror... and see more than a failure."

The old man stroked his beard as Mael relayed his thoughts. Mael's eyes radiated a resolve they had been lacking up until this point. The longer he remained here the less he became concerned with the "how" of his presence and more concerned with the why. If he encountered this wicked queen just what was he supposed to do? Kill her? Taking the life of someone he never met before was not like him at all, if left up to him he wouldn't harm a bug. What was in his nature though, was to stand for those who could not always stand for themselves. If these Nightmares were bullying the people he would stand against them, and if this queen chose to join in he would stand against her as well

“Beyond the veil of what we see, there is the world that exists as is. If perception dictates reality then, out of sight out of mind yes?”

Mark looked at him a bit confused, what the hell was he going on about?

“Fufu forgive me, allow me to show you.”

The mayor took his staff which was adorned with a curious crystal. He held it before the statue of Aetu as his body began to glow with a faint silver light.

“Xiopha Callinuous “

With the odd phase spoken the crystal would hum with the same light before the mayor faced the glowing staff at the statue its eyes would burn with the same glow as the humming crystal. A moment later the light of the village faded into black with only the shining gleam of anethereal doormanifests in its place. Standing before it Mael could feel an intense pulling as if something was calling to him from beyond its borders.

"Let us delay no further, the time is nearly upon us."

He said as he ushered Mael to open it, he was a bit hesitant at first, unsure of the odd sensation he was experiencing but it affirmed the mayor's word up until this point. Whatever lay beyond this door Mael was connected to it, swallowing his fear he tightened his hand around the nob before twisting it. Engulfed by a vibrant flare, he and the mayor vanished with the door they entered through fading, hidden once more.

[Mael Hellgate]

As the light that engulfed them departed, Mael found himself in a place that defied anything corporeal he had ever experienced. To try to put into words the beauty of the realm around him would do nothing but insult its seemingly cosmically spectral allure. His eyes inflated in utter disbelief with an expression that was a mixture of bewilderment, wonder, excitement, and a hint of anxiousness. He was no stranger to astral domains, yet this one was in its lane. The plane looked like the artscape of a mad painter, and it twinkled with a manifold of iridescent colors that were both familiar and foreign. The air, thick with telestic prominence, seemed to reignite the artist's spark within him. The way the clouds shifted formed faces and likenesses of shapes and objects. A casual push and pull, almost rhythmic, like the realm itself, was breathing like this world was alive.

"Mayor...is this."

Mael felt his heart fill with emotion; his young, artistic heart could not help but be moved by what he saw. What he felt, his every fiber tingling, the moment they set foot here, he knew where they had arrived. The mayor was but a few steps behind him at the base of a long, winding staircase leading to a structure that appeared to be stone. A castle, maybe? But they were too far away for him to make it out.

"Indeed, Welcome, Mael, to Phantasus, City of Dreams. The line between what is real and what can become real doesn't exist here."

The Mayor appeared behind him, his palm facing toward the clouds. With a quick whisk of his wrist, the clouds began to come together before becoming a giant smooth rectangle. Lines began to systemically manifest around the structure, turning it into a puzzle set. The many pieces broke apart and began to soar like birds through the skies. Mael's eyes, full of bewilderment and glee, traced the jigsaw flock as they hovered all around them.

"Wow, this place, it's incredible."

"Ah, yes, but this is only one face. Phantasus is a realm that connects all of Thelmora, the link and intersections in our collective and personal conscience. And it is exactly for that reason that the awakened Queen seeks secular dominion. From this place, she can create an endless army of Nightmares and force the whole of Thelmora, person, animal, and fiend alike, under her rule once more. The hat is the sacred duty we, as villagers of Oakridge, and I, the Mayor, are tasked with. Protecting this gateway as we await the return of its true defender."

Mael's hand acted as a perch for many of the puzzle birds. His supposed nemesis wanted to use this place to turn the population into her playthings. Ruining a person's right to a good nap was bilious to him. Why, if he didn't have naps, he wouldn't dream of the inspiration for his sculptures.

"That's just wrong; dreams should be a safe place, a protected sanctuary where you feel empowered to do anything."

"Celestia, and I, would agree with you."

"Now that you mentioned it, just what Is Celestia?"

The mayor stoked his beard; he could very well explain it but chose another route.

"Well, why don't you ask for yourself? After all, we're here to awaken your power....to do so, you must Convene with the heavens themselves. Up there, in fact."

He said, pointing to the faraway structure. Mael, a bit dismayed by the journey, sucked his teeth.

"That'll take forever, gramps!"

"Fufufu, have you been listening, boy? Here, such concepts are trivial. Why do you think it looks this way? It reacted to how you perceive a realm like this should be and thus became. So remember, boy, it is not just the queen's domain; you are also on this plane. It is your right and your duty. You are the essence of dreams, Mael. Embrace your freedom... for none other but you can genuinely know its depths."

Mael looked at the flock around him and the faraway structure. The Mayor was right: the more timid he presented himself to be, the smaller the box he placed himself in. If he was going to be true to himself, he needed to embrace the streams of possibilities around him. Then it dawned on him, the dream he had right before he woke up here; he had forgotten all about it. That realm was it?

“So Quack...”

His eyes flashed a wispy blue hue as his hand stretched toward the cloud. Responding to his decree, the realm around him opened the mouth of the cloud and released a quack that rippled through the realm. The grassy plains he lay in rippled from the sonic presence, his cheeks and lips flaying

He held his hand out before, remembering the feeling of that moment, that single instance when he felt lucid, the surge of energy that rushed over him, and the inspiration. In his mind's eye, he desired a swift way for them to get to the structure beyond. And then it hit him: His eyes showed bright with the same city blue glow in his dreams; the birds responding to his thoughts began to swarm around them before taking to the skies, their forms unfolding and recreating a larger, their colors shifting cordially before settling on a form that shocked Mael. A giant Owl, one that bore majestic white feathers and piercing blue mirrors that cut through the varying spectrum of lights around them. Mirroring the same gleam that shone brightly in Mael's eyes.

"An Owl?!"

He loved Owl. They were the symbols of his family...his...family?

"Ha! You're a natural!"

The creature cooed before bowing to Mael, who placed his hand upon its head. Its feathers felt so real—no, they were real. It's breathing, the hum of its heartbeat. All of it was real. He helped the old man up, and with a mighty flap of its wings, the creature was off, soaring through the skies of the dreamscape.

[Mael Hellgate]

The vibrant tapestry of the Astral Realm unfolded beneath them as they flew onward towards the colossal stone structure looming in the distance. Swirls of amethyst and gold danced in the ethereal currents, challenging the very concept of fixed reality. Mael's eyes glistened with an almost unbearable excitement, a childlike wonder flooding his senses as he witnessed the raw, unfettered beauty of this place. Every shifting, ever flowing, was it truly his to mold, as the ancient texts hinted? It was an almost suffocating pressure, this potential, this immense power that hummed just beneath the surface of existence, one that he wasn't entirely sure how he should deal with.

But here, now, in this very moment, soaring through star-dusted nebulae, all he could feel was breathtaking freedom and the exhilarating prospect of a new beginning. This was the start of a journey whose destination he thought uncertain about, but which he had resolved within himself, at the risk of letting Leah and the people of the village down, to see through to the end. The Astral Realm was vast, bewilderingly so. Though it was whispered to be the city of dreams, there weren't any towns or homes in the traditional sense, but rather phantasms of people, places, and things – echoes of waking life or forgotten fantasies given momentary form in the conscious-infused air. None seemed permanent, as if existence's lingering traces had found a temporary, shimmering sanctuary here.

The Owl perched silently beside Mael, its wise, dark eyes reflecting the cosmic panorama. It cooed intermittently, its voice a sound like silk streaming through the wafting air filled with mystical energy, a gentle counterpoint to the silent grandeur as they neared the stone structure. It solidified before them, a dark, imposing mass against the luminous sky, carved from what appeared to be solidified starlight or ancient rock from a world long gone. Upon closer inspection, the very earth of the floating dais upon which the structure rested was inscribed with a litany of intricate runes, carved deep into the stone in a dialect that was vaguely familiar to him, stirring faint, unbidden memories.

They settled gently onto the dais, the Owl lifting from Mael's shoulder to perch on a nearby, rune-etched spire. Mael stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the structure's entrance.

"Is...this the place?" Mael said, his voice hushed by the reverence the location inspired, directed towards the Mayor who had guided him here.

But after not getting a reply, a prickle of unease feathered up his spine. He turned his head towards where the Mayor had been just moments before, only to find the space empty. He was gone. Weary of the sudden disappearance in this unstable realm, Mael looked over to the edge of where they had just landed on the dais, peering into the radiant void, yet saw no trace of the man. The Mayor had simply vanished.

"M-mayor?" He called out, a tremor in his voice.

Yet only the quaint, profound hum of the starry sky returned his cry.

"Hello? Mayor, where did you go?"

Silence stretched, thick and heavy with cosmic energy. Then, a voice echoed around him, not seeming to come from any single direction, but from the very fabric of the Astral Realm itself.

"And so...you have made your way here, snoring savant...once again...as the stars will it."

With its coming, the very fabric of the realm began to twist and bulge, not violently, but majestically, like a cosmic flower unfolding. A piercing, nearly blinding light erupted from the distortion, like that of the heavens beaming down onto him, forcing Mael to shield his eyes. From this contortion of space, a being manifested that appeared neither strictly male nor female, but a harmonious fusion, like a man and a woman merged into one, their form liquid and shifting, yet radiating an undeniable presence. Their very being irradiated a constant veil of power, power unlike anything Mael had ever felt, the closest thing to divinity he had ever witnessed. They settled onto the dais, their feet seemingly not touching the ground but hovering just above the rune-covered stone. When they spoke again, the scent of vaporized stars, of creation and destruction entwined, filtered from their mouth, shimmers of star dust trailing in the air as their form wafted slightly through space and time. A personal orchestra detailing their existence seemed to fill the silence – not sound, but the still, yet ever-present hum of energy thrumming around them, a symphony of pure potential.

Mael, regaining his composure, lowered his arm, his eyes wide with awe and a touch of fear. "Are you...from the heavens? Are you Celestia...?" he whispered, the ancient name surfacing from the vague familiarity stirred by the runes, by the power radiating before him.

The being smiled, a serene, knowing expression that held the wisdom of epochs. "I am, as you say, a daughter of the dimming storms, a son of the brewing stars... the keeper of the thresholds, the whisperer of possibilities. And you, Scion of dreams, have come at last."

[Mael Hellgate]

"Just what does that even mean?" Mael asked, his voice barely a whisper against the silent hum of light. He had hoped that he might finally get some true answers. It wasn't that the Mayor hadn't tried to explain, but he wasn't sure why it was him. There were billions of people on the planet Vescrutia, why would he have been singled out? He wasn't the strongest nor the fastest, he wasn't even the brightest person in his family.

As if sensing the depths of his worries, Celestia cupped their hand. A light began to emanate from them, impossibly brilliant, swirling outwards. As they separated their hands, gasps escaped Mael's lips as a birthing of stars came forth within the confines of the chamber, miniature galaxies blooming in the air around them. With nary a twinkle of their fingers, these celestial bodies moved through the skies around them, orbiting Celestia as if they were their sun.

"You have been chosen as you bear the blood of our kind, Mael," Celestia's voice resonated, not merely with sound, but with the echo of creation itself. "The stuff that forms planets and fuels suns courses through your veins."

Celestia began to arrange the stars until they formed a constellation, one that once Mael saw it, he felt a tug within both his mind and heart – a sense of belonging, ancient and potent.

"We who have recorded the most gallant of fables since the dawn of life, molded your essence from collapsed stars, and told the dream of your story since time immemorial," Celestia continued, the arranged stars pulsing in affirmation. "We are bards of the cosmos, our songs the sagas of our most valiant regalia, and you, Sovryn, are formed from the light of resting realms. It is because of this, we have chosen to exalt you. Just as we did with the one before you."

The name, the title – Sovryn, Czar – felt both alien and intrinsically right. But the mention of a predecessor brought a different kind of ache. "You mean Aetu," Mael said softly."This queen... am I supposed to..."

"You feel sorrow for her,"

Celestia corrected gently.

"The gentleness in your heart is part of the valor of your inheritance. Aetu too felt pangs in his heart knowing what it meant to fulfill his duty and protect not only Phantasus, but Oakridge and all of Thelmora. Yet she is one who cannot be mourned for her actions. Grieve for her not, for she shall do naught but twist that valor and shape it into vulnerability, into advantage."

It was then the stars Celestia had arranged began to darken and contort, their vibrant light leaching away, condensing into a form that was the inverse of Celestia's radiance. It solidified, taking the shape of a woman, cloaked in shadow, emanating a dark, menacing aura – a sorceress of terrifying power.

"The Awakened Queen,"

Celestia proclaimed, their voice now edged with solemn warning.

"A sculpture of shadow, daughter of The Blackened Order. Yang 'Mara was the last one, she who brought about the Age Of Insomnia. She too from the same cosmic crucible, but instead of aiming to safeguard the realm of Phantasus, she chose instead to use her connection to the city of dreams to control Thelmora, using the nexus of dreams to create a legion of inertia and dominance."

As Celestia spoke, the conjured image of the sorceress seemed to unleash terrible spells within the star-chamber, shadowy tendrils reaching out. Before Mael's eyes, a horrifying tableau formed – the sorceress stood on a mountain of swirling, dark nightmares and the limp, lifeless bodies of Thelmora's people, husks drained of life and light.

"The Nightmares..." Mael breathed, the reality of the stories he'd dismissed as folklore crashing down on him.

"These creatures are far from fairy tales of bad dreams,"

Celestia confirmed, the grim image holding steady.

"They are the embodiment of mortal fear given shape, given but one purpose... to consume the light of dreamers, to turn them into husks for her to rule over. Yet as devilish as she is, she too is an anchor of Phantasus and cannot be slain... only contained. Aetu sealed her in the depths of this realm using his very lifeforce to contain her."

The weight settled heavier on Mael's shoulders. Sacrifice. Aetu had given everything.

"But she is an avaricious foe," Celestia’s light flickered with ancient weariness.

"Just as Aetu reincarnated into you, every 400 years she returns, clawing her way back from the containment."

"The Solstice," Mael whispered, remembering the ancient festivals, the rare celestial alignment that happened once every four centuries. It was approaching. Imminent.

[Mael Hellgate]

"What you must do, Sovryn,"

Celestia's voice resonated, a symphony of distant nebulae and forgotten melodies, "is embrace that which flows within you. Phantasus is not merely a city of dreams; it is the source of Astral presence, the crucible where thought and emotion take ephemeral shape before echoing into the waking world. It is the reason, your mind is so ineffably powerful."

"The psychic might you wield has the potential to force planets to bond, puncture space time rewrite the very laws of reality...but you must cease this trepidation. You must find the courage needed to push beyond your limits..."


Celestia's form shifted slightly, an elegant ripple through the stardust and vapor. "The dark one," they continued, their voice darkening like a swift-gathering storm cloud, "seeks to corrupt this source. She seeks to twist the very essence of this realm, turning the vast panorama of possibility into a monochrome landscape of terror, a breeding ground for creatures born of primal dread. And she needs your connection to this place, your inherent link to its core, to fully anchor her dominion and unleash that torrent upon the material world."

The vast, shimmering realm around them seemed to pulse with a subtle unease at Celestia's words. Mael felt the weight of them settle upon him, a pressure building not just around him, but deep within his very core, a strange, unfamiliar hum.

"The Solstice of Awakening you spoke of... it is a celestial alignment," Celestia explained, gesturing with a hand that trailed glittering motes of light. "It is a moment when the veil between Phantasus and Thelmora becomes gossamer-thin. For the Awakened Queen, it is the hour of her greatest potential, when she can extend her influence most powerfully, attempting to tear down that fragile barrier entirely. For you, Mael, as the Slumbering Sovryn, it is the critical moment to fulfil your purpose. To stand as the barrier. To solidify your dominion, not through force, but through the very essence of light and hope this realm embodies."

Mael's gaze flickered over the ancient runes carved into the dais beneath his feet, a faint, warm light pulsing within their grooves. "Anchor of light... solidify my dominion... but how?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper against the cosmic hum. "I don't even know how to feel this power, let alone use it. And the Mayor... he just vanished."

Celestia's merged eyes, depthless pools reflecting uncountable stars, focused on him. "The Mayor's presence here was merely... a guide. He is of the waking world; this realm is fluid, non-linear for those unbound to its core. He is safe, merely returned to where he belongs. Your focus must now be here, on your place within this tapestry."

They inclined their head towards the runes. "Your power, Mael, is not something to be learned through incantation or study. It is something to be felt, remembered, unlocked. To become the unyielding heart of Phantasus, repelling the rising tide of night."

Celestia's form solidified slightly, becoming more defined, yet no less filled with radiating power. "The Solstice is upon us, Mael. The stars turn. The time for slumber is over. The time for the Slumbering Sovryn to awaken his true strength, and defend the heart of dreams, is now. When the stars align...call upon them...they will answer you..."

With that a blinding light appeared and when it fade Mael was back in the waking realm standing before the statue of Aetu. He still had so many questions but for now he would have to focus on what was in front of him. Dealing with the Nightmares and preparing for the solstice. He just hoped he could live up to everyone's hopes...to let them down mean dooming them to a fate worse than death.

[Mael Hellgate]

His mind reeled as he returned to the Waking World. The transition was always jarring, like surfacing from a deep ocean dive, but this time it was different. His body felt heavy, slightly lethargic, as if every muscle and sinew was catching up, adjusting to the sheer weight of what he had learned. So... Celestia truly existed. A realm of starlight and cosmic will, and what's more, it had informed him of a sacred charge: to stand as a beacon against the very void of emotion, the encroaching entropy that threatened the end of autonomy as they knew it.

The Dream Realm had always been his sanctuary, a space where the crushing pressures of his bloodline—his family's suffocating obsession with the succession of the Holgurd crown—could not reach him. It was his haven.

But if the Awakened Queen had her way, that haven would become an anchor for desolation, a virtual wasteland of shadow and dominance, enslaving every dreamer to her nihilistic will.

He could not let that happen. He wouldn't.

A memory surfaced, his father’s voice, calm and steady as the mountains surrounding their kingdom.

"Courage is the magic... that turns dreams into reality."

That statement now held the weight of mountains. A person's dreams were their hope, the light of their imagination, their aspirations. Not some toy to be broken. His mind buzzed with questions. Who did he inherit this from? His father, the stoic noble? The mother he had never known, whose portrait was the only proof of her existence? Though Celestia had explained a great deal, there was still so much more he didn't understand. And whatever power they believed he held, this cosmic starlight, had yet to manifest. It was a promise whispered in a dream, with no proof in the waking light.

For now, he would have to focus on the present. Trust that when the time came, he would know what to do. At this moment, his duty was clear: protect Leia and the others from the Nightmare prowling the forest. He would have to rely on what he could do, not what he was supposed to be.

And then... a ghastly roar shook the very stone beneath his feet, a sound that felt like it clawed its way up from the bedrock. His eyes shot open, his chest tightening into a knot of ice.

"Hey kid... There you are!"

It was one of the villagers, Morwen, his face carved with panic, flesh pale but for two flushed spots high on his cheeks.

"It... It's the S-Class... It's here!"

"What?! It came to the gates?" Mael was on his feet before the question was fully formed, the last vestiges of lethargy burned away by a surge of pure adrenaline.

"Leia and the others have been fending it off, but... its power, that thing ain't normal!"

His heart felt like a battering ram against his ribcage. And yet... he had given his word. His father had always taught him that one's word was one's bond. He would not see their faith in him sullied.

"Get all the villagers inside, bar the doors... I'm going to help them."

The villager nodded immediately, sprinting to rally the others. Mael broke into a desperate run for the north gate, his boots pounding a frantic rhythm against the packed earth. He rounded the last of the wooden longhouses, and the scene exploded into his senses.

The north gate, a massive structure of iron-banded oak, was splintered and groaning, great gouges torn from its surface. Before it, three figures stood their ground in the flickering torchlight. He recognized Leia immediately, her silver staff a streak of light in the chaos. Her magic blossomed in plumes of resplendent energy, scathing the beast with every arcane blast. Two village guards flanked her, their shields battered, their stances wavering but unbroken.

And the thing they faced... it was a blasphemy of nature. The S-Class Nightmare was a creature of writhing shadow and jagged bone, a quadrupedal horror whose form seemed to shift and boil, never truly solid. Its roar was not just sound; it was a physical force, a wave of crushing despair that washed over Mael even from a distance, a simmering dread that sought to leech the fight from his very bones.

"Leia!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the effort.

Her head snapped toward him for a fraction of a second. Relief warred with terror in her eyes. "Mael! Get back! It's too—"

A shadowy tendril, thick as a tree trunk, lashed out in a devastating swipe. The air whistled as it cleaved the space where she’d been a moment before, forcing her to leap back. The ground erupted in a spray of dirt and shattered stone. One of the guards wasn't as quick. The clawed appendage caught his shield. It didn't just break; the wood and metal seemed to unravel, dissolving into wisps of grey smoke. The claw continued its arc, aimed to cleave the man in two.

Instinct took over. Mael's hands glistened with a faint, psychic energy. He traced a square in the air before the guard, carving the shape with his mind. Ava, the Holgurd seals of his house. As he thrust his fingers upward, a barrier of interlocking, translucent hexagons manifested in the path of the claw. This was his anthem, Hellaguard—the inherent trait of the Holgurd bloodline to produce barriers of fortified energy. The attack slammed into the shield with the force of a landslide, throwing cracks across the hexagonal lattice, but it held.

Mael's blood ran cold. This wasn't a beast to be fought with steel alone. This was an incarnation of the void Celestia had warned him of. It didn't just kill; it erased. Had he been a second too late, that guard would have ceased to exist. If he wasn't careful, he could be next.

His supposed power remained a sleeping giant within him, deaf to his frantic, silent pleas. He didn't feel like a celestial savior. He was just Mael. Just one guy, with one trick, standing before the end of everything.

Courage is the magic that turns dreams into reality.

His father's voice was a calm anchor in the storm of his panic. He couldn't manifest starlight. He couldn't weave celestial magic. But he could be courageous. He could give them a dream of victory to hold onto.

The Nightmare seemed to sense his defiance. Its many tendrils writhed, coalescing as a black, fearsome energy gathered in its gaping maw—a living malice charging up for something truly deadly.

[Mael Hellgate]

"Stand back, everyone," Leia commanded, her voice strained but firm. She planted the butt of her staff into the earth and jumped in front of Mael, a wall of fierce determination. "I won't let this thing harm my family!"

Her magic, born of will and life, bloomed into a brilliant display. A myriad of radiant orbs materialized around her, each one etching a complex arcane insignia into the very air before converging at the head of her staff. The beast fired. A torrent of burning darkness, a beam of pure annihilation, shot towards them. Leia met it with a deafening cry, unleashing her own concentrated beam of pure, white light.

For a heart-stopping moment, the two forces met in a screeching, violent equilibrium. But Leia was tiring. Her knuckles were white on her staff, sweat beading on her brow. The Nightmare's power was raw, endless, drawn from a well of pure despair. Her light, however brilliant, was finite. The beam of darkness began to push back, inch by agonizing inch, the edges of her spell starting to crack and fizzle.

She was being overpowered. She risked a glance back at Mael, and a small, sad smile touched her lips. It was a smile of farewell, a final, silent plea for him to live, to run, to fulfill the destiny she was giving her life to protect.

Seeing that smile—that acceptance of her own erasure for his sake—caused something to snap within him.

It was the ultimate violation. The Awakened Queen sought to destroy all dreams, and right here, Leia's dream of protecting her home, her family, was about to be extinguished. To let her die was to let the void win. His father's words roared to the forefront of his mind, no longer a gentle memory but a thunderous command. Courage is the magic that turns dreams into reality.

His dream—his sacred charge—was to protect their dreams. His courage, then, had to be the catalyst.

"No," he whispered, a sound lost in the din, but a declaration that shook his own soul. "I won't let you."

A sense of duty, deeper than a king's and older than the mountains, erupted from within. It wasn't a thought; it was an event. A brilliant flash of starlight burst from his chest, so bright it bleached the world white for a second. A spectral crown, woven from constellations and nebulae, blossomed into existence above his head. The air around him shimmered, turning a deep cherry pink as he was enveloped in an aura that weighed down on the world with the gravity of the divine. His hair and eyes mirroring that aura.

As the blinding light receded, he stood transformed. The beam of darkness was inches from consuming Leia. Mael raised a hand. A new barrier manifested—not the practical hexagons of Hellaguard, but a smooth, immense shield of pure psychic power, shimmering with cosmic energy. It slammed against the dark beam, stopping it dead.

"You will not have your way... beast," his voice boomed, deeper, resonant with a power that was not his own and yet entirely his.

His hand widened, and the barrier expanded with his will, growing to over three times its original size, covering the entire width of the village gate, shielding Leia and the guards completely.

"Now... begone."

A cerulean glimmer of starlight began to weave itself into the seams of the psychic shield. It started to hum, a vibrant, celestial blue hue pulsing from its core. Mael's gaze was fixed on the S-Class Nightmare, his expression one of cold, absolute judgment. He closed his hand into a tight fist.

The barrier did not shatter. It collapsed inward, imploding with impossible force, the gravitanoil force of a collapsing star snapping shut over the beast. The Nightmare struggled, writhing in silent agony as the pure light of Mael's power seared its shadowy flesh. For a moment, it was trapped in a sphere of shimmering starlight, a star being born and dying in a single second. Then, with a final, silent pop, the barrier, the Nightmare, and the beam of darkness vanished, erased from existence not by a void, but by an overwhelming, absolute reality.

Silence fell, broken only by the crackle of torches and the ragged, disbelieving breaths of Leia and the guards. Mael stood in the quiet aftermath, his aura slowly fading, the spectral crown dissolving like smoke. He lowered his arm and stared at his hand, which still tingled with the memory of starlight. The lethargy was gone, replaced by a terrifying, exhilarating clarity. He finally understood. The power wasn't a weapon to be wielded. It was a truth to be declared. And he had just spoken his first word.