Huff… huff…" Caspian's breath was heavy as he finally collapsed onto the ground.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, soaking his clothes.
He had tasked himself with running 10 kiloters and completing a rigorous set of basic training.
{Good work Child,}
"150 points…" Caspian muttered to himself as the system displayed the reward.
---
(The Next Morning)
Caspian stood in his small room, adjusting his clothes in the mirror.
His mask lay on the table.
Today marked the first ti he was leaving the Arcwright estate.
"Let's go," he said, his voice resolute as he picked up the mask and secured it over his face.
Stepping out of the estate, a sleek black car awaited him at the mansion's gates.
The driver gave a polite bow before opening the door for him.
"Young Master," the driver greeted.
Caspian nodded wordlessly, climbing into the backseat.
The car doors closed with a soft thud.
{Hey, child, how much longer will it take to reach the church?}
'It'll take us about three hours,' Caspian replied. 'The church is in the center of Nyxoria City.'
The car sped through the vast landscape. Caspian's gaze was fixed on the world outside the window.
This was his first ti seeing Nyxoria beyond the estate's walls.
The cityscape grew denser as they approached Nyxoria.
Towering skyscrapers of glass and tal stood alongside ancient structures adorned with carvings and gold-plated spires.
The streets were bustling with people, carriages, and advanced vehicles, blending dieval charm with futuristic technology.
"This world… It's just as described in the novel," Caspian muttered. The thought left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
"Young Master, we've arrived," the driver announced as the car pulled up in front of the grand church of Nyxoria.
Caspian stepped out, pulling his hood tighter over his head.
The church was a breathtaking sight, a towering structure of marble and gold.
{This is the famous Nyxoria Church?}
Ignoring the comnt, Caspian climbed the wide stone steps. The enormous double doors stood ajar, revealing the church's magnificent interior.
As Caspian entered, the vast hall stretched before him, with rows of polished wooden pews and golden chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling.
At the far end, an altar shimred with divine energy.
A robed priest approached him with a warm smile.
"Welco, child. How may I assist you today?"
"I need a private room for worship," Caspian said.
The priest studied him for a mont.
"You seem… new here. May I ask why you require seclusion for your prayers?" Priest asked.
Caspian hesitated. Bloodmoon spoke up in his mind, {Say sothing convincing, child. You're already suspicious enough with that mask.}
"I prefer solitude during my prayers," Caspian said finally. "It helps connect better to the divine."
The priest nodded slowly.
"A personal way to commune with the gods is always respected. Follow ."
Caspian followed the priest through the massive hallways.
They passed nurous smaller chapels and rooms filled with worshippers.
'So many people,' Caspian thought.
{Yes, and every one of them is probably stronger than you right now,}
"System I am sacrificing this swo....," Caspian muttered under his breath.
{Sorry Child,}
The priest opened a heavy oak door, revealing a small, quiet chamber.
The room was dimly lit by a few candles and centered around a simple altar.
On the altar rested a crystal sphere, faintly glowing with an inner light.
"This room is for those seeking divine guidance or undergoing personal worship," the priest explained.
"Take your ti."
Caspian gave a slight bow.
"Thank you."
As the door closed behind him, Caspian took a deep breath.
Then he approached the altar, staring at the glowing crystal sphere.
"Now what?" he muttered.
{Touch it, obviously. — It's not going to awaken your blessing by staring at it.}
Caspian hesitated.
His heart pounded in his chest as he reached out.
"Here goes nothing," he whispered, placing his hand on the sphere.
The faint glow intensified, filling the room with a brilliant light.
...
Caspian's vision blurred, and the golden light of the church dissipated.
When his sight returned, he stood amidst a quaint village bathed in sunlight.
Lush fields stretched far and wide, and children laughed as they chased each other through the adows.
A small boy, no older than five, ran barefoot through the dirt roads, his face bright with joy.
Caspian realized he wasn't just a spectator; he could feel the emotions of this boy—Arthur.
His happiness radiated like the sun as he reached his modest ho, a small cottage with a thatched roof.
A woman, likely Arthur's mother, stood outside, kneading dough.
Her face lit up at the sight of him.
"There you are, you little rascal," she said, wiping flour on her apron and scooping him into her arms. "Were you off chasing frogs again?"
Arthur giggled. "I caught the biggest one, Ma! I'll show you later."
His mother's laughter was warm and comforting, a sound that seed to fill the entire village with life.
Caspian felt Arthur's imnse love for her, the kind of love that cos from knowing you are cherished unconditionally.
The scene shifted.
Arthur was older now, perhaps ten, working in the fields beside his father.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with hands calloused from years of labor.
He taught Arthur how to till the soil, how to plant seeds, and how to care for the earth that fed them.
"Rember, son," his father said, placing a strong hand on Arthur's shoulder, "hard work and honesty are what make a man."
Arthur nodded, absorbing every word.
Caspian felt the boy's admiration for his father, a man who was the very embodint of strength and wisdom in his eyes.
The mory darkened.
Arthur was now a teenager, his once-vibrant village shrouded in gloom.
A plague had swept through, taking many lives.
Caspian felt Arthur's fear as he watched his mother coughing violently on her deathbed.
"Arthur," she whispered, her voice weak, "promise … you'll take care of your father. Promise you'll stay kind."
"I promise, Ma," Arthur choked, clutching her hand as tears stread down his face.
Days later, his father succumbed to the sa illness.
Arthur was left alone in the world, a boy with no family and no ho.
Caspian felt the crushing weight of his despair, the way his chest felt hollow, and the way tears burned his eyes.
But Arthur didn't let grief consu him.
He worked tirelessly, doing odd jobs for the villagers who had once been his neighbors.
He rebuilt his ho with his own hands, planting crops to sustain himself.....
Reviews
All reviews (0)