The Holder of Light

"After the bath, you look much better. Please, come in," said Zayyan, standing beside the large chamber door, gesturing for Arion, Aria, and Nari to enter first.

As they stepped inside, Archer lit up a series of crystal lamps along the room's walls. The soft glow reflected off glass and metal surfaces, revealing something previously hidden in darkness.

Eight glass cabinets stood tall in a half-circle formation—each one like a revered tomb for legendary armor. Yet only five of them were occupied: Neren, Naathan, Nate, Pandora, and Kapel—names that felt unfamiliar, yet radiated an aura of deep history.

The two remaining cabinets were empty. Silent.

As if awaiting something... or someone.

At the very center of the room stood a black stone altar, carved with intricate patterns that glowed faintly. Archer turned to Arion and gave a subtle nod.

"Embed the sword. As commanded by the King."

Without hesitation, Arion stepped forward and drove the Champion Sword into the altar.

In an instant, a low rumble shook the floor. The room's walls began to pulse with golden light, and Wastu—the old fortress full of secrets—seemed to take a long, drawn breath.

"Good," Zayyan murmured. "Now this fortress has its energy source once more."

Archer stepped toward one of the empty cabinets.

"This one," he said, pointing, "was meant for Gavrilo. We've searched for it for years, but it was never found."

He glanced at Arion.

"But in the end, it chose its heir on its own. And we're pleased with the choice."

Zayyan interrupted, his gaze now shifting toward the other empty cabinet.

"And this one... belonged to Azard. Like Gavrilo, it vanished long ago. But unlike him, not a single trace was ever left behind."

At that moment, the room fell silent.

Then slowly—all eyes turned toward Aiden.

Aiden's expression turned flat, mildly annoyed. He inhaled sharply, then exhaled in a loud, irritated sigh.

"Okay, okay... I'll explain."

"Our goal in gathering them," Aiden began with a dull tone, "is to ensure this power doesn't fall into filthy hands… and to hasten the prophecy."

"Prophecy?" Arion asked, eyebrows furrowed—clearly clueless. Aria and Nari exchanged confused glances as well.

Seeing all three of them lost, Aiden let out an exaggerated snort, his expression growing more frustrated. He rolled his eyes, then leaned back with arms crossed.

"Open your ears and listen closely," he said seriously, then began to recite:

"There shall return the ancient children who once roamed the land and sailed the seas.

They shall come back to the promised soil—to reclaim what is rightfully theirs.

With them comes destruction... enslaving all living beings.

The cries from every corner shall flood the world.

Irminsul shall fall by a shattered heart,

and mankind's belief will wither beneath the sacred tree's decay..."

A heavy silence blanketed the room.

What once felt majestic… now felt ominous.

Aiden continued,

"That's from the first stone panel."

Then he took a breath, and began to recite the next part with a weightier tone.

"The second panel reads:

We bestow a gift as salvation for you.

Only the chosen one may possess it.

The sun of seven angles shall be the sign of the savior's arrival,

the champions shall merge into one,

becoming the relic that will end the chaos.

Rejoice in this message,

and in the protection sent from the heavens,

for the law of the sky must not be broken.

Such is the decree of fate, already written..."

"In short," Aiden said with a long sigh, "we just need to find the chosen ones—those who have been selected by the armors. And the Champion Sword... will guide the way."

But as he looked back toward the kids, his brow twitched.

Arion, Aria, and Nari weren't listening at all.

They were huddled around the cabinet where Nate's armor was displayed—completely mesmerized by its design and aura.

"You little brats!" Aiden snapped, utterly exasperated. "WERE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME JUST NOW!?"