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The moment Stella wrapped her fingers around the hilt of that sword—forgotten by time, but alive in its essence—something shifted.
It wasn't just the feeling of cold metal against her skin.
It was as if the world itself stopped breathing.
As she drew the blade within the silent mansion, the air trembled. A wave of energy spread like a scream contained for centuries, flooding the room and Stella's very bones.
The sword was not common. It recognized Stella.
And Stella... was overtaken.
Memories not her own invaded her mind like fragments of a shattered mirror reassembling. Scenes, voices, emotions—all colliding in her chest.
She wasn't just seeing images.
She felt everything.
It was like being in two places at once.
As if her soul was intertwining with another's.
As if...
As if she was connecting to someone.
Just as it happened with Tekio and Yara.
She saw Jade.
Not as a legendary warrior from ancient tales.
But as a child.
Solitary.
Cold.
Born into a clan where spilled blood was an acceptable price for power.
A temple with dark corridors.
Halls full of statues.
No smiles.
Only goals.
She saw the bodies of Jade's siblings.
One by one.
Buried in silence.
She saw Jade at nine years old, sitting in the rain, fists covered in dirt, crying over the grave of a sister who never had a chance to grow up.
She cried.
And cried.
And screamed.
Then...
She trained.
She fought.
She swallowed her tears until the pain became armor.
Jade grew up with anger.
With purpose.
She defied her father—the clan leader—before everyone.
He crushed her.
Exiled.
Wounded.
Alone.
But not destroyed.
It was there that she vowed:
"I will no longer fight to survive... I will fight to create a place where no one has to go through what I did. Where no one dies for pride. Where children can smile."
And with her, Ronan departed.
They were not siblings by blood, but fate bound them as if they were.
Ronan—the silent observer, the scholar.
He saw everything. Learned everything.
And beside her, he grew as a shadow grows with light.
An old friend bid Jade farewell with a promise:
"I will grow strong. When the right time comes, we will create that world you dream of together."
Time passed.
And the reunion happened.
But he…
was no longer the same.
Dante.
The name echoed in Stella's mind like buried thunder.
Jade recognized his face…
but not his eyes.
The light of before had been devoured by something dark.
Dante had been corrupted by indescribable forces.
Too powerful.
Too ancient.
They faced each other.
But Jade could not save him.
Not then.
And so he built an empire.
A throne of corpses.
A kingdom of fear.
With demonic experiments, living weapons, children transformed into horrors.
While the world fell silent, Jade wandered it.
Gathering allies.
Mending broken hearts.
Giving purpose to the disillusioned.
And that was how she met Yara.
Yara...
The lightning before the storm.
The pain before the healing.
Stella saw her eyes.
Blue like the sky after mourning.
She saw the invisible chains on her hands.
She saw her wounded soul.
She saw the love she held for her sister, Amara—the one who was condemned from birth.
She saw the burden.
She saw the hope.
She saw the fall.
Jade, Yara, Ronan, and others prepared for years.
And then...
the war began.
It was brutal.
Impossible.
Apocalyptic.
Stella saw.
She felt.
She lived every instant.
Jade fought with everything she had.
Tore destiny apart with her own blade.
Destroyed monsters, faced kings.
Survived death.
But...
It wasn't she who saved the world.
It was Yara.
In the final moment.
When all seemed lost.
When even Jade had fallen to her knees...
Yara had died, yet... she rose.
The only one capable of conquering death.
Something had reanimated her.
A blessing or a curse.
Eyeless.
Armless.
With blood streaming from what remained of her face.
Three bolts of lightning fell before Jade.
Three lines.
The world stopped.
Time trembled.
Yara charged forward, screaming.
Fighting with her chains of electricity made of pure soul.
Challenging Dante alone.
She had no strength left.
But she had faith.
Faith that her struggle would not be in vain.
And she delayed him, creating an opening for a final attack that Jade delivered, erasing Dante from existence.
Yara died.
Her soul was disintegrated along with her body before Jade's eyes.
Definitively.
Her soul was unmade.
But not forgotten.
Jade represented her; the three bolts became the three lines.
Before disappearing, Yara said:
"I will return. Somehow. Whenever you need me, I will be there."
And she returned.
In Tekio.
In that boy who carries lightning in his eyes.
Jade survived.
She split her soul.
One part became the barrier that protects humans from demons.
The other...
Was sealed within the sword.
The one Stella now wielded.
When Stella returned to herself, she was crying.
Without realizing.
Tears streamed from her eyes as if they had traversed centuries.
She gasped.
The blade in her hand trembled, but not from fear.
From connection.
From belonging.
The sword recognized in her the echo of Jade.
The spark of the future.
And there, in the silent mansion, surrounded by echoes of the past, Stella understood:
She wasn't just a piece in the game.
She was part of the legacy.
Part of the lightning.
Part of the hope.
Energy flowed through her arms.
Her eyes shone gold.
And there.
With unique generational talent.
The spiritual heir of Jade.
Stella wielded her sword.
Tekio's body, still fragile and covered with scars from a battle that transcended the physical, was slowly beginning to regenerate. The spiritual flames enveloping him were faint but persistent, like embers refusing to die. Stella was by his side, in silence. Or perhaps it wasn't just Stella—Jade was there too, awake within her. And Jade... she knew.
Or rather, she saw.
Jade possessed a rare gift, beyond light or matter: the gift of seeing the invisible paths that connect souls. She saw the lines that bound hearts, the intertwined destinies, the echoes of past lives. Nothing escaped her spiritual sight. When she looked at Tekio through Stella's consciousness, she didn't see just a wounded boy. She saw something far greater. Something ancestral.
— Yara would never have reincarnated in just anyone, — Jade's voice murmured within Stella's soul. — She was a force of destiny, and destiny does not choose lightly.
A doubt grew within Stella—a question she couldn't contain. Who, or what, was Tekio?
Jade had wondered this herself for a long time. But now, observing through Stella, she was certain. And the answer echoed like silent thunder within the girl's chest:
Tekio was a Tsuki.
Yara Tsuki.
Amara Tsuki.
And now, Tekio Tsuki.
Stella felt her world spin. — But how…? — she questioned in her mind. Tekio was born to common parents. From the Senhir family. Nothing in his apparent origin indicated such a lineage.
And besides, Tsuki is a name, she didn't know it was a lineage.
Stella thought Tsuki was how Yara was represented in Sif history.
She and Tekio had discussed this days ago.
It was then that Jade began to show her the truth.
The Tsuki family had fragmented in the past. Corrupted from within. Betrayed by their own fears. Some of its members yielded to Dante's influence, who, with cruel cunning, manipulated and destroyed ancient pillars of the lineage. Amara—still young—was the key Dante desired, for reasons unknown to this day. He heard the rumors. Investigated the marked and powerful child. And took her by force.
He separated her from Yara, erased her memories, and raised her as his own daughter. A puppet molded by darkness. Jade tried to warn Yara about this, but... she was her sister. And Yara, even knowing everything, could not stop loving her.
Over time, Amara took the name Karmore, and the Tsukis who had surrendered to Dante became soldiers loyal to her. A new name was born among them: Tsukiuhays—an attempt to keep their lineage "pure," but already poisoned by Dante's demonic influences. An impure lineage, but terrifyingly powerful.
Meanwhile, the other part of the family—those who fled—blended with the common people. And little by little, their spiritual strength diluted. Thus was born the lineage that would later be called... Senhir.
Stella, astonished, connected the dots rapidly. — That's why, from time to time, the Senhir family produces extraordinary warriors... like Fenra.
And the more she thought, the more pieces fell into place.
— Tsukiuhays... Uhays... Nuhay...
And then, a light exploded in her mind.
Mei Nuhay.
The Empress.
A peerless warrior, whose spiritual energy was from another era. Another essence. A hurricane of fire and raw power. Stella choked on the idea.
— Is she a Tsuki too…? — she asked the voice of Jade within her.
But Jade hesitated.
— I don't know. I never saw her in person. I couldn't see her soul... But Tekio, yes. He carries the blood. The mark. A distant relative of Yara. They are connected.
Yet, even so, something still unsettled Jade. And Stella felt it: Yara's presence in Tekio was powerful—yes—but there was something more. Something hidden. Ancient. Deeper than Yara herself.
— There is something within him… at the core… that even I cannot comprehend, — Jade confessed, almost in a whisper. — Older than anything we know.
Stella then tried, for a moment, to access that vision—that level of perception. She wanted to see what Jade saw. But what she felt was an enormous, crushing weight. The air around her seemed to grow dense, as if an invisible abyss was opening.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
A sound echoed inside her. A clock. An omen. Stella felt her body tremble. The sensation was bad. Ominous. Unnatural.
She pulled back.
— It's too much for me… — she murmured, clutching her chest. — I'm sorry.
Jade respected her limit. — It's alright. But now, we need to focus. We must heal him.
— Let's go, Yara, — Stella added, turning back to Tekio's weakened body.
And then, united, Stella, Jade, and Yara—three spirits in one heart—channeled their energies. The healing began from the inside out, and slowly, very slowly, Tekio began to recover.
There was still a long road ahead.
But now, Stella knew who he was.
And perhaps, just perhaps… she was beginning to understand who she herself was, too.
To be continued...
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