Light.
It poured through his closed eyes like molten gold — warm, blinding, alive. The air smelled of lilies and violets, yet faintly of metal. When he tried to breathe, the world itself seemed to inhale with him.
"Chosen one," a voice said — soft, deliberate. "You must save this world."
He opened his eyes. White stone. Golden sky. A ring of figures in prayer. He smiled, because this was what he was destined for.
"The Savior has returned!" voices rose in unison. "We will no longer suffer the demons' wrath!"
The altar erupted into cheers. Through it all, Cael Ardent looked pleased with his new life. His heart beat in rhythm with the chants. Every pulse echoed the same divine truth: he had been chosen.
One of the robed figures approached, trembling, and offered him somethinglong, wrapped in white cloth.
"Your sacred blade, my lord," the voice whispered.
Cael took it reverently. The fabric was still damp — holy water, perhaps, or something warmer. The weight of the object felt comforting in his hands. He unwrapped it slowly. A glint of steel. The smell of metal. Salvation itself.
"I will cleanse them," he said. "Every last demon."
The crowd bowed lower, their hoods brushing the marble floor. From somewhere far away, a bell tolled — deep and resonant, like a heartbeat.
Cael stepped down from the altar. The temple doors yawned open, revealing a vast plain of silver mist. In the distance, shadows writhed and flickered unnaturally. He could almost hear them whispering, pleading, waiting to be purified.
He smiled again, a calm, gentle smile. "Don't be afraid," he murmured to no one. "My rebirth begins with mercy."
When he walked forward, the figures' voices rose into a hymn. The melody followed him into the fog — soft, sweet, and just slightly off-key.
A woman kneeled before him, eyes shining with devotion. "Greetings, Holy Lord. I am Serah Vale. You may call me Serah, the village healer. I am honored to aid you in your journey."