The distant memory rose again, clawing its way to the surface of my consciousness—not as a gentle recollection bathed in nostalgia, but as a nightmare I had begged myself to forget. Houses burned with flames that seemed to reach the very heavens, their orange and red tongues licking at the twilight sky. People screamed as they ran in blind terror through smoke-filled streets, their voices raw with desperation. Some parents lost their children in the chaos, calling out names that would never be answered… and some children lost their parents, left alone in a world that had suddenly turned into hell.
At the centre of it all stood a lone figure—a girl no older than five. Small, fragile-looking… yet somehow powerful enough to wipe out an entire town on her own. Her tiny frame seemed impossible to contain such devastating force.
Inside her mind, a desperate plea echoed: Please… stop! I don't want this! I don't want to hurt anyone! Let me go! Please, someone… anyone… help me! But on the outside, her face remained expressionless, a blank mask that betrayed nothing of the torment within. Her eyes held no colour—no warmth, no life, no humanity—only a hollow void that seemed to go on forever. Purple light burned fiercely in her small hands, crackling with malevolent energy. A black robe, far too large for her tiny body, fell over her frame like a shroud. A deep hood cast dark shadows over her head, obscuring most of her face.
In front of her, a man laughed—low, cruel, sinister. The sound cut through the screams like a blade. "Alisia! Finish them!" His command echoed through the burning air like an ancient curse, reverberating with dark power. The crystal orb clutched in his gloved hand pulsed rhythmically with dark purple light, each pulse amplifying the oppressive darkness that surrounded them, feeding the nightmare.
Her small body trembled violently with an inner turmoil that threatened to tear her apart, but her eyes remained empty, distant, as though her soul had been locked away somewhere unreachable. Against her will, she raised her glowing hands toward the smoke choked sky, her fingers splayed wide. The words came unbidden, forced from her lips by a power she couldn't resist.
"Ice Blossom… burst!"
The spell's whisper started soft, almost gentle, then turned into a roar that drowned out everything else. Frost devoured flame. Heat gave way to bitter cold.
The raging inferno that had consumed the town froze in an instant—mid-air embers that had been drifting like deadly fireflies suddenly crystallized, transformed into glittering fragments of ice suspended impossibly in the air. For a single heartbeat, there was perfect silence. The world seemed to hold its breath.
And then—
A deafening crack split the air!
Thousands upon thousands of razor-sharp ice shards exploded outward in all directions, piercing through wooden walls, stone foundations, and flesh with equal ease. They tore through hearts and screams alike, indiscriminate and merciless. The world turned deathly still, engulfed in glistening ruin that sparkled mockingly in the fading light. Beautiful and terrible.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
I jolted awake with a sharp gasp, my chest tight and painful, and my entire body trembling uncontrollably beneath the thin sheets. Cold sweat plastered my hair to my forehead and neck. Tears streamed down my cheeks before I could even properly process what had happened, before I could even draw a full breath. My throat felt raw, as if I'd been screaming.
"Alisia…"
The name escaped my lips in a broken whisper before I could stop it, before I even realized I was speaking. That name—the one I had buried deep within the darkest corners of my past, locked away behind walls I'd spent years building. The name I wished I never had. The name I wished I had never known. The name I wished never to remember again, not for as long as I lived.
"Aria, was it the same nightmare again?"
Sister Maria's gentle, concerned voice broke through the lingering fog of terror, pulling me slowly back to reality. She appeared beside my bed, her eyes filled with deep concern and compassion. She reached out with her hand, resting it softly on my shoulder to comfort me, to anchor me to the present.
I nodded weakly, unable to speak yet, still trying desperately to catch my breath. My lungs felt like they'd forgotten how to work properly. She knew these nightmares were a recurring torment for me—they had been for years. Her expression softened further with understanding and compassion that only someone who had witnessed my suffering many times could offer.
No matter how many times I tried to forget, no matter how hard I worked to bury those memories, that past—the one drenched in innocent blood and suffocating darkness— always found its way back into my dreams like an unwelcome ghost. It haunted me relentlessly, refusing to let me go.
Sister Maria stayed with me for a while longer, murmuring soft prayers and words of comfort until my breathing steadied and the trembling subsided. But even after she left, the images remained, burned into my mind's eye.
***
I glanced around the hallway for what felt like the tenth time, my eyes scanning the empty corridor stretching out before us. The torches mounted along the stone walls flickered quietly, casting restless shadows that danced across the floor. I caught the increasingly restless look on Grey's face—his jaw was tight, and he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"Yo, bro, Ay still isn't here," he said, breaking the silence we'd been holding for the past few minutes. There was a hint of genuine anxiety threading through his voice, something I didn't hear from him often. "Should we go look for her? Maybe something happened?"
I shook my head gently, though I understood his concern. I'd been wondering the same thing myself, but wandering around aimlessly wouldn't help. "How would we find her in this place? We already talked about it yesterday—you know we can't just go searching. This place is huge, and we barely know our way around. We'd probably get lost ourselves."
"But she said we'd meet in the storage room," Grey replied quietly, his voice dropping as he tapped his foot against the stone floor in a nervous rhythm. "Same place as yesterday. We've been waiting a while now, and she's still not here. What if something's wrong?"
I could see the worry creasing his forehead, and I wanted to ease it somehow. I gave him a small, playful smile—the kind I'd use when trying to lighten the mood between us back home. "We haven't been waiting that long, Grey. Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes at most. Besides, we should look for some training materials anyway while we're here. Let's do that for now, until she arrives. Make the time productive instead of just standing around."
Grey's face brightened noticeably at that suggestion, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Yeah, good call. I got my actual gear yesterday, but we need practice versions to train with, right?"
"Exactly," I said, relieved he caught on so quickly. I thought it over for a moment, running through what I'd read in novels that related to the training stuff. My hand came up almost unconsciously to rub my chin as I considered our options. "Wooden practice weapons, training armor that won't actually hurt us if we mess up. You know, safe versions of what we'll actually use in real combat."
His eyes lit up with understanding as he nodded, that familiar spark of energy returning to his expression. "Makes sense. Can't exactly spar with my real spear and shield on day one—we'd kill each other." He paused, already scanning the storage area with that analytical look he got when he was problem-solving. "Alright, let's split up and cover more ground. I'll find training versions that fit the role I picked, you grab whatever matches yours."
"Sounds good," I said, feeling relieved that he'd taken the initiative. Grey always had a knack for cutting straight to the efficient solution. "Just look for stuff that's similar to what you picked yesterday—practice spear, training shield, that kind of thing."
He smirked at that, that familiar confident grin spreading across his face. "Please, bro. I already know what I need. Besides, I picked my real gear pretty well yesterday, didn't I?"
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, you did. Aria seemed impressed with your choices too."
"Of course she was," Grey said with a laugh, already heading toward one section of the storage area where training equipment was likely stored. "You're the Chosen Hero with the fancy god-tier Holy Sword, but I've got pretty good taste. See you in a bit, number two!"
"Number two?" I called after him.
"I'm number one, obviously!"
I shook my head with a quiet chuckle and turned toward my own section to search. At least his spirits were up again. That was something. Though I had to admit, watching Grey work through problems always made things feel more manageable. He just had that way about him—seeing solutions where I'd still be stuck analyzing the situation.
As for me, I needed to figure out what training weapons would work best. The Holy Sword was my main weapon—the real one given to me as the Chosen Hero—but I could use whatever I was comfortable with for training. Maybe I should look for a practice sword similar in weight and balance, or try different styles to see what felt natural…
As I began sorting through the equipment, running my hands over wooden practice swords and testing their weight, I couldn't help but glance occasionally toward the hallway entrance. Where was Aria, anyway?
After spending what felt like hours rummaging through the cluttered storage area—our hands covered in dust, our shoulders aching from moving heavy crates and bundles—we finally gathered in front of the hall adjacent to the storage room. The corridor was dimly lit by torches mounted on iron brackets, their flames casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Grey had managed to find equipment that would definitely suit him, pieces that seemed almost tailored to his build and fighting style.
His weapon of choice was a spear and shield, classic but reliable. So he had focused entirely on finding the best combination he could. And I had to admit, he did a great job selecting them. The spear was sturdy oak with a dulled iron tip for training, and the shield— though worn—had good weight distribution and a reinforced center grip.
"So, what do you think about my stuff? Pretty solid, right?" Grey asked, his voice swelling with pride as he held up the spear, letting it catch the torchlight.
I didn't want to admit to him that he really had done great, because… well, he'd teased me so many times before. Normally, I'd deflect or throw something sarcastic back at him. But this time, I didn't want to. Because of our situation—the uncertainty, the danger, the weight of what lay ahead—I felt like I had to give even a small amount of praise, encouragement, anything I could offer him. We needed to keep each other's spirits up.
So I told him exactly how I felt, pushing aside my pride. "You did great, Grey!"
His eyes widened theatrically. "WO…WO…WO… A praise from our sir hero! This is a historic moment! Great job, me!" He patted himself on the shoulder with exaggerated ceremony.
I wanted to say something as a counter attack, something to knock him down a peg, but I held my tongue. The smile on his face was genuine beneath the teasing, and I didn't want to ruin it. "Now, let's sort things out," I said instead, keeping my tone even.
"Yes, sir hero!" Grey replied with a mock salute, his grin widening.
"Drop it! Just speak normally." I could feel the corners of my mouth twitching. "I can't hold back my laughter anymore!"
"Ok, ok. I'll stop," Grey chuckled, lowering his hand. "This type of teasing is getting old anyway. Let's go look for—speak of the devil! She's here!" His expression shifted suddenly, brightening as he spotted someone approaching down the corridor.
"Hey, Ay!" I exclaimed, turning to see her walking toward us.
"Yo, Ay! It's about time you show up," Grey called out, leaning casually against his spear.
"We waited for ages and now we're old farts!"
I shot him a look. "Don't speak indecently in front of others, Grey! Especially a girl."
Aria reached us, her footsteps soft against the stone floor. "No need to worry, Sir Kaito. I don't mind." Her voice was gentle, almost apologetic. "And sorry for the wait."
"What happened?" he asked, studying her face more carefully now that she was close. "You look tired and kind of… dull?"
Grey had picked up on the change in her mood so easily. It really surprised me—he could be surprisingly perceptive when he wanted to be. When I saw her up close, I realized it too. Her usually bright eyes seemed clouded, and there was a heaviness in her posture that hadn't been there before. So we waited for her answer, the silence stretching between us.
"It's nothing," she said after a moment, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I did some chores yesterday that kept me up longer than expected. That's why I'm late. Nothing to worry about, Grey."
"Oh!" Grey's expression relaxed. "Then it's fine. Now, what's our plan?"
Aria straightened slightly, slipping back into her role as our guide. "In this village, there are two main buildings. Where we are now is the Tower of Heroes, and the other is the Cathedral. The rest are residential areas for the nuns and priests who serve here."
She gestured vaguely toward another part of the compound. "We have a common food storage and preparation area that also serves as a canteen. We can go any time to eat there—breakfast, lunch, dinner, or even just a snack. No one will turn any of you away. You're honoured guests here."
"That sounds good!" Grey said enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up at the mention of food. "I must check that out later!"
My mouth opened to tease him about his bottomless stomach, but Aria continued her explanation with a quick, knowing smile and a small nod in Grey's direction. I lost my chance.
"The Cathedral is the place where prayers and rituals take place," she explained. "It's the spiritual heart."
"Obviously!" Grey interjected with a knowing nod, as if he'd understood everything already.
Aria smiled patiently and continued. "The place we're currently in—it's the Tower of Heroes."
"Hey, Ay," Grey interrupted again, his brow furrowing in confusion. "You said 'Tower of
Heroes,' but it looks more like a castle. Just… without its luster, I guess?"
"That's because it was originally built solely to summon the heroes," Aria explained, a hint of pride entering her voice. "The tower itself is still inside here, at the center of the complex. But when the heroes came—the first ones, many years ago—they asked for places to stay, to train, to rest. Things like that. So we built additions around the original tower, and it grew bigger and bigger over time, until it became what you see now."
"So that's the story behind the Tower of Heroes?" I asked, genuinely curious now. The place suddenly felt more significant, knowing its history.
"Yes, Sir Kaito," she confirmed with a nod. "We built several facilities over the years—the living areas with rooms to stay for the hero's, the training ground where you can practice combat, a bath house with hot springs, and of course… the storage room you just came from."
"So now we're going to the training ground?" Grey asked, shifting his spear from one hand to the other.
"Yes, Grey. You two can train there today. I'd recommend starting with the basics— footwork, weapon handling, maybe some cooperative techniques if you're feeling confident." She paused, glancing away briefly. "I have some errands to finish, but I've brought some books about warfare and combat strategy to help guide you."
"Alright, let's go," I said. Grey and I agreed readily, eager to begin despite our inexperience.
As we started walking, Grey glanced at the stack of leather-bound books Aria carried under her arm. "You're also a book worm, Ay?" he asked with genuine curiosity.
My ears perked up at that question. I often read books myself—fiction, history, philosophy, anything I could get my hands on. But I wasn't sure I'd call myself a book worm exactly. It felt like too strong a label.
Grey turned to me with a mischievous grin. "Good thing our Kaito here is a book worm. You two will get along great."
"Hey! Who asked you?" I shot back, feeling blood rush to my face, heat spreading across my cheeks. The embarrassment was instant and unwelcome.
"Oh! You like books too, Sir Kaito?" Aria asked, genuine curiosity showing on her face as she turned to look at me.
I didn't want to blow things out of proportion or make it awkward. So I just nodded, scratching the back of my head self-consciously, avoiding direct eye contact. She smiled softly—a real smile this time—and turned her head back towards the path ahead, her hair swaying gently with the movement.
Grey leaned in close and nudged my back lightly, whispering near my ear, "Why didn't you strike up a conversation? That was the perfect opening!"
I just looked at him and shook my head firmly, giving him no opening whatsoever to let his teasing spree begin. I knew how he operated.
He pulled back with a disappointed expression, letting out a quiet sigh. "Looks like I won't be able to become a wingman any time soon," he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for me to hear.
Aria slightly turned her head, and with a subtle side glance, she looked at me for just a moment. But then she turned straight ahead again, her expression neutral and unreadable. Her face showed no hints, no clues to what she might be thinking. So my thoughts are probably right, I told myself. She has no interest in me like that. Strangely, I didn't feel disappointed either. It was just a fact, nothing more.
After a short walk through winding corridors and across a small courtyard, we arrived at the training grounds. The space was more impressive than I'd expected—spacious and circular, shaped like a small arena. The ground was packed dirt, well-worn from countless training sessions. Wooden posts stood at intervals around the perimeter, some with targets attached, others scarred with weapon marks. The walls rose high on all sides, open to the sky above where clouds drifted lazily past.
Grey didn't say anything for a moment, which was unusual for him. But I noticed his face had tensed slightly, his jaw set with determination. Finally! He's getting serious, I thought to myself, feeling a spark of respect.