In the solemn calm of the royal sanctuary, Priestess Aurelia stood alone, hands clasped before the grand stained-glass window.
The rays of the setting sun pierced through the colored panes, painting her face with reflections of gold and crimson. Each gleam of light seemed to float in the air like a silent prayer.
Her gaze, lost toward the bustling capital, betrayed a quiet worry.
"The world is changing… too fast. Even prayers seem powerless against what approaches."
She slowly closed her eyes, a soft breath escaping her lips.
Then, a faint step echoed behind her, fragile in the vast hall.
Aurelia turned gently—and saw a young girl with pale pink hair, wearing the white tunic of a hero.
"…Yuki?" she murmured, a touch of surprise in her voice.
The young heroine stopped a few paces away, her eyes tired, a faint smile on her lips.
"Forgive me, Priestess Aurelia. I didn't mean to disturb you."
Aurelia shook her head gently, her expression warm.
"It's nothing, my child. But you should still rest. The dungeon of Narhok always leaves scars… visible or not."
Yuki's gaze drifted toward the orange light of evening.
"I can't sleep…" she murmured.
Her voice trembled with an unease she seemed almost afraid to understand.
"Since our return, I've had this feeling… that we're being watched. Even here, in the capital. As if something… is still following us."
Silence thickened.
Aurelia studied her for a long moment, golden eyes half-closed, filled with anxious wisdom.
"The shadows of the past often leave traces on the soul, Yuki. But… what you feel may not be fear alone."
"What do you mean?" Yuki asked, her voice tense.
The priestess stepped closer, placing a light hand on her shoulder.
"Sometimes the threads of fate cross between beings who should oppose each other. And sometimes… the gods themselves watch through the eyes of mortals."
Yuki remained still, troubled by these words. Her gaze wandered across the shifting reflections of the stained glass.
A breeze stirred through the hall, lifting a strand of her pink hair.
And, for a fleeting moment, she thought she glimpsed a dark silhouette in the glass—perched on a distant rooftop, motionless, its face turned toward her.
She blinked. The vision vanished.
"…Probably just my imagination," she whispered, more to herself.
Aurelia said nothing. Her gaze darkened, as if a secret already weighed on her heart.
"No. It is not your imagination, child of heroes. The eye of fate has already opened."
---
The sunset bathed the hall in an amber glow.
Shadows from the stained glass danced across the marble floor, almost alive.
Yuki stood straight, hands folded, watching the sun sink behind the rooftops of the kingdom.
Aurelia remained beside her, silent, arms crossed in her white robe, like a statue carved from ivory.
A long moment passed before Yuki broke the silence.
— "…Priestess Aurelia, may I speak frankly?"
— "Of course, Yuki."
Her fingers clenched nervously.
"Since I arrived here, I've tried not to think about my old world. We are told not to look back… but sometimes, memories return. Like whispers that cannot be silenced."
Aurelia nodded slowly, her eyes glimmering with almost maternal kindness.
Yuki took a long breath. Her voice grew softer.
"I had a brother. Haro Yukihara. He was… incredible. Always ready to help, always the first to defend someone. He had this gift of making everything seem simpler, even when all hope seemed lost."
She closed her eyes. A warm gust of wind made her pink hair flutter.
> — "Yuki, you mustn't skip breakfast! You'll never beat your record otherwise!"
— "Mmmh, I know, big brother… but I don't like eggs."
— "Then I'll make you sweet ones tomorrow, alright?"
A fragile smile brushed her lips.
"He always kept his promises…" she murmured.
The silence thickened, sacred. Even the candles seemed to listen.
"One day, he fell in love with a girl. Her name… was Amane Seiren. His childhood friend. They had known each other forever, and when they started dating, I thought it was obvious. They understood each other without speaking."
She let out a small, trembling laugh.
"I remember the day he introduced her to me. After school, it was raining. He held an umbrella over her, and she laughed, saying he was overdoing it."
> — "Yukihara, be careful, you'll get sick."
— "You too, Amane."
— "You worry too much."
"They looked so happy… so real."
Her voice softened.
"Amane was kind, a little reserved, but polite and attentive. Later, we ended up in the same class, and we quickly became friends. She often spoke to me about him… things even I didn't know."
> — "You know, Yukihara wakes up early every morning just to buy your favorite bread."
— "Huh?! But… he never told me that!"
— "He wanted you to discover it yourself."
A smile… then silence.
The evening light dimmed further.
"And then… the accident happened."
The world seemed to stop.
"It was a Saturday. It rained. I remember the sound of sirens… the overturned umbrella on the road… the blood on the pavement.
He had protected a little girl. He pushed her out of the way… before the car…"
Her voice broke. Aurelia looked away, throat tight.
"He didn't move. And Amane… she was there. Soaked. Silent. Her eyes empty."
> — "He's going to get up… right, Yuki? He'll get up!"
— "Amane, I…"
— "Tell me! Tell me he'll get up!"
The cry of memory echoed through the sanctuary.
A tear fell on the marble, shattering like crystal.
"After that, she never smiled again. She stopped going out. Her room remained lit every night, but no one saw her."
She clenched her fists.
"I wanted to help her. I wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault. But she refused to see anyone."
Time seemed suspended.
"Three months passed. Then… the summons. The light at school, the collapsing floor… and this new world."
Yuki slowly lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with an old light — part pain, part nostalgia, part foreboding.
And Aurelia knew, in that instant, that this meeting was no mere coincidence.
Her gaze drifted toward the crimson sky behind the stained glass.
— "Since then, I often think… if she were here, she would know what to do. But Amane… she was taken with us. Yet she died so quickly."
The words fell into the silence like a stone into calm water.
Aurelia lowered her head, hands clasped, her expression suddenly grave.
"Yuki…" she said softly, in a voice almost inaudible—the name only Amane had once used.
Yuki flinched, surprised, then offered a melancholic smile.
"That's how she called me. 'Yuki.' She said it sounded prettier than 'Yukihara.'"
A breath of air swept through the hall, making her pink hair dance in the purplish evening light.
In the reflection of the glass, a fleeting shimmer took form—a young girl with silver hair, standing in the shadow of another world.
Her gaze seemed to reach across time.
Aurelia lifted her eyes, frozen.
But the illusion vanished immediately.
> The thread of fate has just tightened again… she thought.
And the dead do not sleep forever.
A heavy silence settled.
Yuki, confused, bowed her head slightly, then inclined herself respectfully.
"Thank you, Priestess Aurelia. I… I think I need a bit of air."
Aurelia nodded slowly.
"Go, child. The evening wind will soothe what weighs on your heart."
Yuki gave a final smile before turning away.
Her steps echoed softly on the marble tiles, fading into the corridor's shadows.
The sanctuary doors closed slowly behind her, a quiet, almost solemn click.
Then… silence.
A deep, vibrating silence, as if even the walls were holding their breath.
---
Aurelia remained motionless before the grand window, now alone.
The twilight bathed the hall in shades of red and gold.
The stained glass cast incandescent reflections across her face, tracing a line between sanctity and gravity.
For a long moment, she did not move.
Then her fingers clenched on the stone ledge.
Her lips moved, almost in prayer.
"…Haro Yukihara. Amane Seiren. Even their names… are bound by the thread of fate."
A wind slipped into the room, gently lifting the white curtain.
It carried the scent of incense and distant rain, like a breath from another world.
The priestess closed her eyes.
She felt again the vibrations buried beneath the capital—the remnants of the ancient spell she had sealed,
and that pulse… that distant rhythm, barely perceptible,
like a divine heart awakening somewhere beyond the mountains.
"The absolute aura…" she murmured.
A golden spark flickered in her gaze.
"Even sealed, it manifests. That means… the time is near."
She turned from the window, her footsteps echoing faintly through the nave.
Each movement seemed deliberate, almost ritualistic.
Her silhouette reflected on the black tiles, seeming to float—spectral, solemn.
Before the main altar, she knelt and clasped her hands.
Her lips whispered a prayer in a forgotten tongue, each syllable vibrating with ancient power.
A symbol briefly ignited above her hand:
a circle of golden light, marked with an open eye and three intertwined runes.
Then the glow vanished, swallowed by darkness.
Aurelia slowly lifted her head.
Her gaze had hardened, icy, imbued with divine conviction.
"The heroes have returned… the dragon has awakened… and the shadows move once more."
Her voice, soft yet cutting, resonated through the empty sanctuary.
She rose, straight-backed, eyes fixed on the grand doors.
The torch flames flickered, as if stirred by an invisible wind.
"It is time to prepare."
Her eyes gleamed with a golden, almost celestial light.
"The war… can no longer be avoided."
She took a step.
Her shadow stretched across the floor, elongating until it merged with the temple's darkness.
"My goal is nearly complete," she murmured.
A faint smile curved her lips—a calm smile, yet one of cold majesty.
"Then the whole world will finally know… to whom it truly belongs."
The last flame died.
And only the golden glow of her eyes remained, suspended in the sanctuary's darkness.