The only daughter of their neighbors in the village of Stoneford , she was twenty-five, graceful and strong.
Leon had always called her big sis, and she had always treated him as her own younger brother. Their parents were close, sharing harvest feasts and festival nights, bound together through trust and hardship.
Her father was no ordinary villager; he was a cultivator of note, ranked high among Frostholm's guards. Amelia inherited his talent and surpassed expectations early on.
By the age of twenty-five, she had already climbed to Stage Four Spirit Warrior, a feat that earned her the title of genius within the village. Elders whispered of her bright future, saying she might one day leave Frostholm and bring honor to their forgotten northern home.
Leon admired her deeply. She had been his shield in childhood, the one who scolded him when he was lazy and encouraged him when he faltered. To him, Amelia was strength wrapped in kindness, someone whose presence could steady even the coldest winter night.
But fate was cruel.
Her gift — the very flame that made the villagers proud — also drew shadows. Assassins came for her, blades flashing under moonlight. Envy and fear struck her down before her future could unfold. Stoneford mourned for its fallen genius, and Leon's heart cracked with it.
So when his mother's gentle voice floated up the stairs, calling, "Leon, come down. Amelia has come," his chest tightened.
He knew the truth. Amelia was gone.
And yet… here she was.
Leon slowly stood, each step down the stairs heavy with dread and disbelief.
As Leon descended the stairs, the familiar murmur of voices reached his ears. His mother was seated at the table, her posture relaxed, speaking warmly with someone across from her.
And then he saw her.
Amelia.
She sat there like a vision — graceful, radiant, her beauty refined by maturity yet untouched by time. She was twenty-five, but her presence carried the elegance of a goddess sculpted by the heavens themselves. Her long hair shimmered in the lamplight, cascading over shoulders that bore both strength and gentleness.
Her figure was flawless — every curve balanced in harmony, her posture exuding natural poise. A slim waist framed the generous swell of her hips, her form both powerful and alluring. Her chest rose with steady breaths, full and proud, while her long legs crossed with the easy grace of someone entirely at home in her skin.
There was nothing crude about her beauty; it was the kind that drew eyes without effort, the kind that silenced a room when she entered.
And her smile — that warm, familiar smile that had once soothed Leon's bruises and scolded his laziness — shone as she chatted lightly with his mother. For a fleeting moment, it was as though nothing had ever changed, as though the night of blood and assassination had never stolen her away.
Then their eyes met.
Her laughter died mid-breath, her gaze locking onto Leon's tall, transformed frame. Her pupils widened in shock, lips parting as though words had been torn from her throat.
The sudden silence made his mother, Emma, turn in her chair. She followed Amelia's line of sight — and her jaw dropped.
Her eyes swept over her son, disbelief carved into her face. The frail, lazy boy who had entered his room hours ago was gone. Standing there now was a young man — taller, stronger, sharper — his very presence commanding attention.
The room froze in that instant: Amelia staring wide-eyed, Emma struck dumb with shock, and Leon caught in the storm of their disbelief.
Emma's hand froze midway to her cup, her eyes never leaving her son. Her voice trembled, filled with confusion and maternal worry.
"Honey… what happened to your body? How did you grow so much?"
If it had been anyone else, they might have doubted who stood before them, might have thought this young man was some stranger wearing her son's face. But a mother's eyes never failed. Emma knew. No matter how much taller, sharper, or stronger he had become — this was Leon. Her Leon.
Her question cut straight to the truth, leaving no room for denial.
Amelia's gaze followed close behind, though hers carried a different weight. Her eyes lingered on him, tracing the sharp lines of his face, the lean muscle of his frame, the way his obsidian eyes seemed to draw her in. Curiosity glimmered there… but so did something else.
A quiet pull, a hesitant attraction born from the undeniable charm of the boy she once called little brother, now standing before her as a man.
Leon's heart tightened at their stares, but he forced a calm smile. He stepped forward, gently placing both hands on his mother's shoulders. The warmth of his touch steadied her trembling.
"M… Mother," he began softly, his voice low but firm. "First, calm down. I'll explain everything. Just sit, and let me tell you."
Emma blinked, lips pressed tight, and gave the faintest nod. Amelia, too, lowered her gaze slightly, a silent signal that she would listen.
The room, once filled with light chatter, now felt heavy with expectation. All eyes were on Leon, waiting for the truth he was about to spin.
The three of them sat around the table — Leon beside his mother, Amelia directly across from him. The air was heavy, expectant.
Leon inhaled slowly, then spoke with measured calm.
"Actually… I awakened beforehand. Just a few hours ago."
The words struck like lightning in Emma's and Amelia's ears. Their eyes widened in unison. Awakening before the ceremony was not unheard of, but it was exceedingly rare. Only those with overwhelming elemental affinity could trigger such a phenomenon. And those who did… often walked the path of prodigies. Their growth was accelerated, their potential far greater than ordinary cultivators.
Emma pressed her lips together, struggling to absorb it. Amelia leaned forward slightly, her elegant black hair sliding over her shoulder, catching the lamplight as it brushed against the table. Her gaze was sharp, but beneath it shimmered awe.
"So…" she asked softly, her voice carrying both disbelief and fascination, "you're saying you awakened beforehand — and that's what caused you to change this much?"
Leon met her eyes and smiled faintly, his tone steady.
"Yes. That's exactly what happened."
Though the explanation was difficult to fully accept, it was the only thing that made sense. No other reason could explain such a drastic transformation in both body and aura.
Amelia's lips parted again, curiosity shining in her eyes. "Then tell me, Leon… what element did you awaken?"
Emma's gaze joined hers, her expression trembling with both pride and anxious anticipation.
Leon leaned back slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting. His obsidian eyes glimmered with a quiet intensity as he answered with deliberate calm:
"Darkness."
The word fell into the room like a stone into still water, sending ripples through the silence.
It was evident from Amelia's sharp gaze that she understood the weight of Leon's words. Being a cultivator herself, she knew far more than most. And even Emma, though not a cultivator, had read enough stories and listened to enough whispers to grasp the truth.
Darkness.
Among the elements, few carried such rarity and danger. Light, space, gravity, time — and darkness. The village had never seen anyone awaken them, not even in ancient records. And now her son sat here, smiling as though it were nothing.
Amelia broke the silence first, her voice low and urgent.
"Listen to me, Leon. Though you've told us you awakened Darkness… don't tell a single soul besides your mother and father. Not even those you trust most. A rare element like this can bring you great power… but it will also bring you great trouble."
Emma's fingers, trembling with worry, clutched Leon's hand tightly. Her eyes searched his face, fear and pride mingling in equal measure.
Leon turned to her, laying his other hand gently over hers, steadying her. Then he looked across the table at Amelia. His lips curved into a calm, almost mischievous smile.
"I know, big sis."
The way he said it — confident, charming, no longer the frail boy she remembered — sent an unexpected heat to Amelia's cheeks. She blinked, her composure faltering as a faint flush spread across her face.
Leon noticed instantly. His obsidian eyes glinted with sharpness as he leaned back, his tone carrying a quiet promise.
'I'll have you in this life, my lovely big sis.'
He thought.
Amelia folded her arms lightly, her eyes narrowing in thought before she spoke.
"Since you've already awakened your element… are you still planning to attend the ceremony?" Her tone carried both curiosity and a hint of concern.
Leon leaned back with a small smirk.
"Well, of course I'll go. Who knows—maybe I can awaken more elements."
His casual response landed like a stone in water, leaving Amelia and Emma momentarily dumbfounded. For most, awakening even a single element was life-changing. To hear Leon speak of awakening more as if it were nothing left them both staring at him in disbelief.
Recovering, Amelia let out a soft laugh, though her eyes still shimmered with surprise.
"Well… I suppose you should. Though it's rare, there are cases of people awakening more than one element. And if you do, it would be the perfect cover for your… darkness element." Her lips curved into a smile, both proud and protective.
Emma rose from her seat then, smoothing her apron with a gentle sigh.
"You kids chat. I'll go make lunch." She cast Leon a knowing glance, then shifted her gaze to Amelia with an understanding smile before turning toward the kitchen.
The warmth in Emma's expression made Amelia's cheeks flush instantly. She lowered her head, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear to hide the heat rising in her face.
Because Emma knew.
She had always known.
From childhood, Amelia had spent more time in Leon's home than her own. She had scolded him, cared for him, guided him — but
as they grew, her feelings had changed. Affection had deepened into something more, something harder to hide. And now, with Leon no longer a boy but a man radiating strength and charm, her heart betrayed her more than ever.