Episode 9: A Small Reward and Parents' Words of Caution
Leon received a modest commendation from his commander—a small wooden plaque inscribed with his achievement. It was in recognition of his bravery during the skirmish at the outskirts, when he narrowly dodged the golem's massive fist and managed to wound the corrupted elf's arm, turning the tide of battle. Though to others it was but a minor award, to Leon it meant the world.
"Leon, we all made it out alive because of you. Well done!"His comrades clapped him on the shoulder as they celebrated, but Leon's heart was already racing ahead toward home. He could hardly wait to tell his family. Bursting through the door with a beaming face, he shouted:
"Mother, Father! I received an award!"
His mother's eyes widened with surprise and joy as she reached out to touch his face, while his father simply gave a quiet smile filled with pride.
"To think you've accomplished this much… We're so proud of you, Leon," his mother said, grasping his shoulders. "You must be starving. Tonight, I've made your favorite dishes."
At the dinner table, the warmth of a simple home-cooked meal wrapped around him. Bite after bite, memories of his childhood surfaced—the day he first declared he wanted to become a warrior, the countless hours he'd spent dreaming of making his parents proud. And now, though it was only a small award, being able to share it at this very table filled him with joy.
"Remember how I always said I wanted to be a warrior? One day, I'll make the name of Elysium shine with my deeds too," he said with confidence.
His parents listened quietly, their smiles gentle but tinged with concern. After a pause, his father spoke:"Leon, we're grateful and proud of your hard work to follow your dream. But you know well how dangerous the path of a warrior can be. If you come home safe—that alone is our greatest reward."
His mother squeezed his hand."Your safety is what matters most, Leon. Even if the road is hard, don't drive yourself too far. To us, it is enough that you live, steadily and in good health. That is a parent's heart."
Hearing their words, Leon felt warmth spread through his chest. Their love and worry soothed him more deeply than any award. Perhaps he might never be hailed as a great hero of Elysium, but with their love and support, he resolved to keep giving his best. That night, he realized how much of his journey had been carried by his family's love—and prayed they would always be watching over him.
**
Episode 10: The Day of Origins—Becoming One with Nature
Each spring in the continent of Luminaria, people celebrated the Day of Origins—a tradition where all returned to their truest selves, seeking union with nature. For Leon, this was not merely a festival, but a sacred day that he observed with reverence every year since childhood.
As dawn broke, villagers gathered on the grassy hills, shedding the trappings of daily life to stand as their primordial selves. Clothing was set aside, and in the sanctity of the moment, each person regarded the others with respect, meeting not as citizens or soldiers, but as beings of nature itself.
Leon looked across the meadow, where sunlight and wind mingled over the gathered crowd. At the center, priests began chanting blessings, their voices carried by the breeze like whispers of the divine. Leon closed his eyes, softly echoing the prayer, and felt as if he were cradled within the embrace of the earth itself.
Soon, the sacred dance began. Men and women, unclothed and unburdened, joined hands in a circle. Their movements were fluid, gentle, and harmonious—like a river flowing through the valley. The dance embodied the union of body and spirit with nature, and though Leon's eyes could not help but notice the beauty of the forms, he reined in his thoughts, reminding himself of the solemnity of this ritual. Here, it was reverence, not desire.
As the dance concluded, the festival spilled into laughter and community. Traditional foods were shared—breads of grain, fruits of the trees—and Leon found solace in their simple flavors mingled with the scents of grass and wind. Children laughed as they tasted the feast, their eyes wide with the wonder of their first Day of Origins. Watching them, Leon smiled; they too were learning to cherish the essence of being.
By evening, the final rite commenced: the Offering of Songpyeon to the goddess Aria. Using rice flour and forest fruits, each villager crafted dumplings imbued with gratitude. Leon shaped his carefully, adding delicate patterns, his heart full as he placed it upon the altar.
"Do you think the goddess will like these?" a child whispered beside him.Leon smiled. "Of course. She will love them, because they carry our thanks."
As twilight deepened, the offerings were made, prayers whispered, and peace settled over the meadow. Leon took a quiet bite of his dumpling, savoring the humble taste. In that moment, he felt his place in the world—not as a hero or legend, but simply as one who lived, breathed, and belonged to the harmony of Elysium.
**
Episode 11: Leon the Prison Guard, and the Wrongly Accused
After the Day of Origins festival, Leon returned to his daily routine. This time, his duty was prison guard duty—an assignment he never particularly liked. The place was filled with suffocating walls, damp air, and the constant smell of rot. Hours dragged on endlessly until the next shift, and the worst of it was enduring the ceaseless cries and curses of the prisoners.
Leon walked the rows in silence, checking each cell one by one. Most inmates either sat quietly in the corner or dozed, waiting out their time. But then a desperate voice rang out.
"Please! Someone listen to me! I've done nothing wrong!"
At first, Leon paid no mind. Most prisoners claimed innocence, and guards usually dismissed such pleas as routine noise. But that day, perhaps out of sheer boredom, Leon stopped and turned toward the voice.
A man clung to the bars, eyes burning with fear and desperation. Leon studied him and finally asked with cautious curiosity:"What exactly happened that makes you claim you're innocent?"
The prisoner seized the chance as though he had been waiting for it. "I was merely passing by that night! Someone set me up for murder! They never gave me a fair hearing—just declared me guilty! My whereabouts and their accusations don't even match!"
Leon looked away, his eyes drifting to the narrow window. Normally, he would have walked on. Yet strangely, something in this man's desperation compelled him to listen.
"So… if what you say is true, the whole case was staged?" Leon asked flatly. "Then you must have evidence."
"I do! There's proof!" the prisoner cried, gripping the bars. "The evidence at the scene doesn't match my position. But the inquisitors and investigators ignored me—they had decided my guilt before the trial even began."
Leon fell silent. He didn't know why, but he wanted to dig deeper. Over the next days, during his watch, he began reviewing records of the case. He compared testimonies with the prisoner's words. Slowly, discrepancies began to surface—details that hadn't fit suddenly clicked into place.
Something's off… Leon thought, remembering the man's earnestness.
Sharing what he found with a few trusted comrades, Leon discovered they too felt the story smelled of corruption. Together, they pushed for a formal re-investigation. Elysium was founded on justice and fairness, and Musling's vision for the kingdom left no room for wrongful convictions.
Days of inquiry followed, and the rot began to show. The investigators' corruption was exposed, and the man's innocence proved undeniable. He was released, and word of justice restored spread quickly, even among the prisoners.
Watching it unfold, Leon felt an unfamiliar pride. He was only a guard—yet his decision to listen, to act, had tipped the scales of justice. His comrades honored him for his courage.
"You've done Elysium proud," one said, clapping his shoulder.
From that day, Leon carried a deeper conviction: even the smallest voice, even the most ordinary guard, could uphold justice and shape the fate of a kingdom.
**
Episode 12: The Accidental Amulet
On the battle-scarred hills of Luminaria, Leon and his unit finished their drills. As they dispersed, a comrade spotted something glimmering in the grass: an old, tarnished golden necklace.
"Looks like gold. Might fetch a decent coin," the soldier grinned, half-joking as he offered to sell it off cheap.
Leon hesitated. It wasn't something he needed, but as the necklace caught the light, he thought of his mother. Would she like it? With a small smile, he agreed to take it.
That night, after returning home, he found his mother already asleep. Alone in his room, he pulled the necklace out and studied it. Its faint golden glow stirred something strange. He traced the metal with his fingers—and suddenly felt a tingling surge run through him.
A magical aura?
Focusing, he pressed it gently again. The world blurred—and in an instant, he found himself standing several paces away from where he had been. Heart pounding, Leon stared around the room.
"Did I… just move?"
Testing it again, he concentrated, and once more his body flickered to another spot. The thrill of it coursed through him. For a moment, it felt like the childhood dream of wielding magic was alive again.
But when he tried a third time, nothing happened. The amulet lay dormant, silent in his hand.
So… there's a limit? Once or twice a day?
No longer thinking of it as a trinket, Leon decided not to give it away after all. This was more than a necklace—it was a key to possibilities.
As he lay back, staring at the faint glow of the charm, excitement buzzed within him. He imagined the ways this small, strange gift could alter his path. Perhaps fate had placed it in his hands for a reason. Tomorrow, he would test it again.
And for the first time in a long while, Leon fell asleep with a restless smile—wondering what new doors this amulet might open.