"Who am I?"
That was the question he asked himself as he drifted aimlessly in that dark world devoid of substance.
As he flowed through the emptiness, his mind would often flash back to a time before he was plunged into the shadows.
Then he saw a glimmer in the distance, and a voice echoed through his mind. He reached his hand out to it, but that was all he could do. It flickered, then vanished, leaving him alone in the silence.
He closed his eyes and hoped for a dream, any dream. A dream of the sun, a dream of hope, anything to save him from his despair.
What difference was there whether his eyes were shut or not? It wasn't as if he could see anything in that void.
But he did it anyway because it gave him solace. He rolled his tongue around in his mouth as he imagined the taste of food, but that void had deprived him of even the hunger that would force him to eat.
Suddenly, he felt an odd warmth, not the kind one could get from heat, but that of familiarity.
He opened his eyes but squinted at the sunlight. He looked ahead of him to see an abundant forest with large walls visible in the distance along with several buildings at the base of a large mountain.
"Are you okay?" a voice asked him as a large, firm hand rested on his shoulder.
He looked to his side to see a man sitting beside him on a log of wood. He was wearing an incomplete suit of purple armour with black garments underneath that were streaked at the edges with that same shade of purple.
He had a small but evenly spread black beard across his chiseled jawline. His jet-black eyes seemed to swallow the light into them with how dark they looked.
He had a dual-bladed sword sitting at his waist in a scabbard. The scabbard, along with the hilt, was coloured in a patterned mixture of black and purple.
The base of the hilt, where the scabbard reached, was designed in a shape similar to four sharp flower petals that protruded outward as they curved down toward the blade.
At the end of the hilt was a small crystal-shaped tip that bore a shade of deep purple.
"Hey, you seem delirious. Was it too hard on you?" the man asked in a soft tone.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he found himself looking down at his bruised tiny palms, and suddenly it all clicked.
It was the year 5987 C.C., in the northern subcontinent of Magnia, inside the city of Argon, the last remaining stronghold of Novaria.
And his name was—
"-Lloyd!"
The man shook him back to reality, saying, "If I was too rough on you during our training, you could have just said so."
"No, I'm fine," he replied as he sat up straight. "I was just dizzy for a second there."
"Well, next time answer when I talk to you," the man said as he turned away, facing in front of him.
"Right, sorry for that," he said before turning and facing ahead too.
For a moment there, he felt scattered, but now he had all the pieces back in his hands.
He turned his head slightly, glancing at him with a thin smile across his puffy face.
That wasn't just any man. No, that was his father. How could he have forgotten? Was the beating disguised as training so brutal that it twisted his mind?
Despite that momentary lapse, he had it all together now, so he turned completely to him and, after a long sigh, asked him a single question.
"Why is it that I can't ascend and become a warrior like you and the other Nova Knights, Father?"
"You're being too hasty, Lloyd. You're only seven years old," he replied as he turned to face him. "And besides, it takes more than ascension to become a full-fledged Nova Knight."
"I know that, but still," he shot back. "I heard Mother say that you ascended and awakened your Rebel Eyes when you were my age, so why can't I do it?"
"Everyone has their own time, and besides, you just started your combat training," he replied calmly. "What you should be stressing about is whether yours will come, not when."
Lloyd immediately turned downcast, which made the man quietly add, "Maybe I used the wrong choice of words there, but what I'm saying is be patient, and one day you will also awaken the eyes that can peer through the shadows and start your journey of being a Nova Knight."
That lifted his spirits a little, but he still looked troubled.
"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing his look.
"I'm fine," he replied. "It's just that I've been wondering, why is it that we have the Rebel Eyes and not any other groups of people across the world? What makes us so special?"
"It's not that we're special in that we are above them, but we are different in that the very nature of our ascension is out of the ordinary."
"How so?" Lloyd asked.
"For normal warriors, ascension means gaining the ability to make use of the latent source energy being exuded from the soul in its entirety, but for us our ascension is completely different."
The boy shuffled closer in anticipation.
"You are aware of the nature of source energy?" he asked.
"It is the energy of life that is interwoven into and shapes the reality that we live in," he replied. "At least that is what Mother taught me."
"You're spot on," the man said with a smile. "But what if I told you that there was more to it than that?"
"Really? What more is there?" he asked, his eyes beaming with curiosity.
"Source energy isn't singular. Instead, it exists in two forms, Vora and Orfix," he said while Lloyd inched even closer. "They are words in the old tongue that translate to dark and light."
"What about them?" he asked.
"The mixture of these two gives form to the source energy that occurs naturally, with them mostly being considered one and the same," he continued. "That's where we come in. The Nova Knights, through our Rebel Eyes and our counter-evolved souls, are able to separate and make use of Vora by itself."
Lloyd's expression immediately twisted into one of confusion.
"I thought that source energy was what helped make up matter, so how is it that we can just separate one of its component forms like that?" he asked.
"Well, aren't you a sharp one, coming up with a question like that right after I explained it to you," the man said as he patted his head of soft black hair.
"You're right. Source energy does help make up matter, and if one of its forms were to be separated, then the matter wouldn't be able to maintain its structure, causing it to collapse," he said as he took his hand off his head.
"That is why we can't extract energy from our surroundings. Since we are adapted to solely controlling Vora, we can only extract it from the source energy produced by our souls since it isn't tied to any matter."
A faint flame-like energy in the shade of purple enshrouded his gloved hand, fluttering in the wind.
"This is what it looks like in its raw state."
He stared in awe as it fluttered before it faded away, then he asked, "How did we become like this? Is this because of some special training we developed?"
"No, that's not it," he replied. "The reason we are like this is because of something that happened to our ancestors."
"What happened?" he asked.
"I don't know for sure," he replied as his hand rested on the blade, "but whatever it was, it was drastic enough to change our fates forever. Now anyone with Novarian blood can awaken this power and become a Nova Knight."
He turned slightly and looked ahead. "It's a blessing and a burden that we must carry until the end of our days. Or else all of our people who died in this war will be forgotten."
"That is why I'm telling you not to be in such a rush," he continued, his expression turning serious. "If it was up to me, then I would never burden you with this curse. I would be much happier if you lived your life the way you want."
"But I do want to fight, to protect you and Mother and all my friends," Lloyd shot back. "That's why I want to become a Nova Knight too."
"Of course," he replied while still looking away. "Maybe one day you'll change your mind and walk away from this cycle of violence while you still can."
The young Lloyd stared at him, his eyes distant, and wondered why he would say something like that.
He didn't have the chance to ask him though, because in the next moment, four men wearing the same armour as him appeared before them.
One of them spoke up, saying, "Lord Aaron, we need to speak with you. It's urgent."
He took one look at their worried expressions and stood up.
"Lloyd," he said, prompting him to stand, "I'm sending you back home, so don't wander away."
He nodded silently and stood still until one of the four men took his hand and started walking him away.
He looked back to see them talking about something, but they were too far away to be heard. So he turned back ahead and looked toward the mountain.
Though he couldn't explain it, he sensed the smell of ash but dismissed it as just dirt on his shirt.
"What do you mean just a single battalion?" the man asked the Knight. "What are they thinking?"
"I'm not sure, sir, but their arrival is imminent."
He sighed and asked, "How long do we have?"
"Two or three more days."
Hearing this, he turned to the direction Lloyd and the guard had headed, their silhouettes barely visible in the distance.
"Two or three more days, eh," he said. "There's nothing to worry about."
"We'll overcome this just like we always have."