Prologue
What exactly are stories? Are they simply the fables we tell our children before they go to sleep? Are they imagination given shape? Are they pieces from a history long since passed? Or are they cautionary tales, warnings from those who walked before us? Whatever they may be, whether they be sad or happy, everyone has a story they wish to tell—some more than one.
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Once upon a time, in a boundless expanse of nothingness, an old god awoke.
They were the first, and for a time, the only.
Before them stretched an eternal, silent void—so empty it seemed even time had forgotten to tick.
To ease their loneliness, the god decided to tinker, crafting a little something to pass the endless ages. At first, it was a simple pastime. Yet as eons pirouetted by, their creation grew, blossoming into something truly wondrous. When it was finally complete, it shimmered like a thousand rainbows trapped in a single drop of dew—a gem so magnificent it became the god's greatest treasure.
For a long while, this gem was their joy—their comfort—but one fateful day, it slipped through their fingers and vanished into the unknown.
Now, light and shadow, laughter and sighs, have always existed in a delicate duet. But when one dances too long without the other, the world falls out of step.
And on the day the cosmos were cast into disarray, the old god's treasure was lost.
Heartbroken, the god wept rivers of sorrow. From each tear, a star twinkled to life, dotting the void with tiny beacons of hope.
Determined, the god began their search, traversing the vast abyss for countless centuries, until, at long last, they stumbled upon a single fragment of their lost treasure, still untainted by the chaos that had consumed the rest.
Though relieved, they knew in their heart that they could not risk losing it again—so they set to work once more.
From this tiny shard, they spun something entirely new. In seven days and seven nights, they wove together a world brimming with wonder—a world they named Machie.
In celebration of their creation, the old god was gifted a new name—Amari, the Divine Architect.
Yet, even a god cannot do it all alone. To protect their delicate creation, the Amari brought forth young gods—celestial beings called Elysians. Each carried a sliver of the Amari's own essence, and together, they formed the Elysian Brotherhood, the guardians of Machie…
"ALL ABOARD!" the conductor's voice echoed through the station.
The woman's tale concluded just as the train's horn blared, its sharp sound cutting through the air. She and the little girl next to her glanced up from their bench, their eyes drawn to the billowing steam escaping the train's smokestack.
"Huh…" The woman muttered, adjusting her glasses. "What perfect timing…"
"LUNA!" The woman turned to see a woman with short black hair and violet eyes waving at her from the platform. "It's time to go!"
Luna waved goodbye to the little girl and her mother and went to join her companion.
"Where's Kouga?" Luna asked as the two boarded the train.
"Hopefully up a crick…" the violet-eyed woman replied snarkily.
"You wish!"
They turned to find a man, laden with suitcases, stepping onto the train, holding her ticket in her teeth.
"You can't get rid of me that easily, Trix!" he declared, glaring at the woman.
A smirk played on Trix's lips.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Kouga…" said Trix, her tone dripping with insincerity.
Luna sighed.
This is going to be a long trip…
The trio pushed through the crowded train aisle, finally reaching an empty cabin, the noise of the station fading as they closed the door. The horn blared again, and with a piercing screech, the train lurched forward, leaving Aje station behind. Trix, slumped against the cabin wall, snored loudly, much to Kouga's annoyance.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was the one who was part dragon…" he huffed, slamming his book shut.
Kouga looked at Luna. She was idly fiddling with her amber pendant, her gaze fixed on the changing scenery outside the window. As the train moved farther from Ije, the familiar woods of the Achebe Province were replaced by open fields, distant forests, and mountains, all painted in hues of green and gold by the rising sun.
"The story you were telling that kid back there…" Kouga began. "That was one of Hen's stories, wasn't it?"
Luna chuckled to herself.
"What's the point of having a good story if you can't share it?"
Kouga scoffed, leaning back in his seat.
"Even I could tell you the moral of that story," he said. "'Something once lost can always be found!' A beautiful tale of perseverance and resilience—"
"Stop."
Luna's calm eyes studied Kouga through her glasses, her expression dismissive.
"I know what you're doing and it's not going to work," Luna warned, her voice low and firm. "The decision has already been made."
Kouga clenched his teeth as his fists trembled.
"So after all we've been through, you're just giving up?!" Kouga exclaimed, standing up abruptly. "Where the hell is your pride?!"
Luna met Kouga's frustration with a calm smile.
"When have I ever been prideful?" she asked. "While I appreciate how passionate you are about this, this is not up to you."
With his anger deflated, Kouga sat back in his seat with a huff.
Luna turned back to the window, her gaze fixed on the shifting landscape as the train left the forest and wound its path along the coastline. Far beyond the waves, a massive tree loomed on the horizon, its towering base dominating the landscape. Its sprawling branches stretched beyond the clouds, vanishing into the sky. Even from this far away, its peak remained unseen, disappearing into the sky.
Luna couldn't help but stare up at it in wonder.
'What do you want, Ezili?'
Luna's eyes shifted to the figure now reflected in the glass.
To anyone else, the space beside Luna appeared empty, but she could see the spirit clearly, as though she were flesh and blood. The woman sat with effortless grace, her translucent hair rippling as if touched by a wind that no one else could feel, and her glowing eyes carried an otherworldly wisdom. As if responding to her presence, all movement around them ceased as if time had stopped.
'In the ever-shifting landscape of life…' the spirit spoke in a soft, melodic voice, 'embracing change provides us with the resilience to adapt and succeed. Was that not the truth hidden in your tale?'
Luna's fingers tightened against the windowsill.
'I didn't ask for commentary…' said Luna, her mind's voice seemingly echoing off the walls.
'Yet here I am,' Ezili replied, her tone tinged with amusement. 'Because you always summon me with your doubt.'
Luna's jaw tightened.
'I don't need your cryptic riddles today. Go haunt someone else's conscience.'
The spirit tilted her head, her expression serene.
'My purpose is not to interfere…only to remind,' said Ezili. 'The choices you make now will ripple through the paths ahead…shaping the conclusion of your story.'
Luna's lips pressed into a thin line, frustration burning in her heart.
Then—
A hand waved in front of her face.
"Hey, are you even listening to me?" asked an irritated Kouga.
Luna blinked slowly, her gaze retreating from the window. With a composed breath, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, the glint of glass masking whatever thoughts still lingered behind them. The spirit had already faded, leaving no trace of her presence.
"Did you say something, Kouga?" she asked.
Kouga narrowed his eyes.
"You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"
"Not a single word…" Luna crooned, the corners of her lips curling into a unapologetic smile.
Kouga slumped back in his seat with a grumble.
"Whatever…but this isn't over!"
"Of course not…"
But in truth, Luna's thoughts were elsewhere, the spirit's words echoing in her mind, refusing to be ignored.
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She opened her eyes to a sky not her own as she lay there, feeling the weight of unfamiliar grass beneath her. As she watched the clouds drift by, something flew overhead. It looked like a bird, but it was big and appeared to be made of iron, splitting the air with a distant hum..
'A plane…'
Rising slowly, she took in her surroundings.
The trees around her stood in perfect lines, too precise, too manicured. Not a forest—a park. Just ahead, a stone path curved gently out of sight.
She followed it.
At the edge of the trees, the world opened. Towering structures of glass and steel clawed toward the heavens, casting sharp shadows across the pavement below.
'Skyscrapers…'
She took a cautious step forward when something roared past her, wind trailing in its wake, followed by a sharp honk. She caught a glimpse of the strange machine before it vanished.
'A car…'
She hardly had time to process before someone bumped into her hard.
'Hey! Watch it!' the man barked without stopping.
She barely registered the words—her attention snagged on his bizarre attire—a shapeless shirt, pants like loose sails. And he wasn't alone.
Everywhere, people dressed in clothes too tight, too loose, too short, or too loud. Some stared into glowing rectangles cupped in their hands.
Then she saw him.
Across the street stood a man with dark skin and gray hair, youthful yet ageless. A crow perched on his shoulder, still as a shadow. Both watched her.
There was something uncanny in the stillness of the bird—and something even more unsettling in the way the man met her gaze.
His coat was tailored, black from collar to cuff, his top hat pristine. He held a bronze pocketwatch in one hand, an ornate cane in the other.
He clicked the watch shut.
Their eyes met—his were crimson. Deep. Unblinking.
'Young lady…' the man said.
His voice cut through the noise like a whisper against glass.
'I'm afraid it's not yet time…'
She blinked.
'Time?' she said. 'Time for what?'
"Your Highness…"
The voice bled in from somewhere far away.
"Your Highness…Princess Jeanne!"
Jeanne's eyes shot open, and she sat up with a start.
Composing herself, Jeanne turned to stare at her companion. Sitting beside her in the carriage was a young lady with short orange hair and bright blue eyes.
"Is something the matter, Clara?" Jeanne inquired.
The woman frowned.
"I should be asking you that, Your Highness," said Clara. "You were talking in your sleep! Something about a plane, skyscraper…and a car, I believe?"
"Did I now…"
It was only a dream… but it felt like something more. Like remembering someone else's memory.
Something about that place felt familiar, but at the same time, alien to her.
"You didn't wake me just to say that, I hope."
"O-of course not!" Clara said quickly, pointing out the window. "We've arrived."
The carriage rolled into the courtyard of Jeneva Palace, its wheels softly clattering over cobblestones as it came to a stop in front of the palace steps. Its lacquered doors gleamed in the coastal sunlight, marked with the golden symbol of the sun.
The silver-haired driver stepped down with practiced precision and opened the carriage door.
As Jeanne emerged from the carriage, her bright pink hair cascaded over her shoulders like silk. Her flowing gown trailed behind her, whispering over the steps as she accepted the driver's hand with quiet grace.
"Thank you, Astor," she said.
"My pleasure, Your Highness," Astor replied with a respectful bow, adjusting his glasses.
At the foot of the grand staircase, Jeanne paused, gazing up at the majestic white walls of Jeneva Palace, standing proud against the seaside town's backdrop.
A faint smile curved her lips.
"Now then…" said Jeanne. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"
And so begins our tale.
In a world forever changed by centuries of conflict that began with a senseless act of violence.
Two girls who had walked different paths in life would soon find themselves walking side by side towards a future wrought with unseen dangers and treasures more precious than either could ever imagine.
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