The land of Verdelle was beautiful — peaceful, and far removed from the reaches of war. In the southern stretches of Aleusimai, people lived as they pleased, untouched by the conflicts tearing the continent apart.
Dijio was one of them.
At twenty-two years of age, he bore the mark of Aldorion—God of courage and war—chosen as his vessel despite Verdelle's oath of neutrality. An oath the nation had upheld, even as civil war brewed across Aleusimai.
For now, it remained unbroken.
Soon, it would not.
Dijio walked the carved stone paths of Verdetta, the heart of Verdelle and its imperial capital. High walls encircled the city, and deep within them stood the royal castle. By tradition, Aldorion's Summoner was granted chambers within its halls—a reminder that even in peace, the gods still watched.
His fame had grown since his reveal as a Summoner—eclipsing even his reputation as the finest blade across the six realms of humanity.
Children admired him. Civilians gazed.
Dijio didn't mind. In truth, he liked it.
"Dijio! Our champion!" they would shout, and he'd offer a small wave in return, confidence worn easily. He tried to bury his pride beneath humility, but every now and then, it slipped free.
Beneath the admiration, however, doubt lingered.
To be a Summoner was an honor—a nation's final safeguard in wartime, especially as Aldorion's chosen.
Yet Dijio despised conflict. All of it.
It had shaped him into the man he was, but now he avoided it whenever he could—even as the world seemed determined to drag him back in.
One darker night, when the stars hid behind the coat of clouds, Dijio stood on his balcony within the palace. His blonde hair shone from the limited moonlight that simmered through the cracks of sky. He had softer crimson eyes that stared out into the horizon. Street lamps were dulled at dusk in Verdelle, as the people preferred the natural lunar beams instead of the flicker of flames. It was nights like this, however, where Dijio wished the lanterns flicked.
He spoke in a whisper with no audience, and yet he was heard.
"Verdelle is the pinnacle of peace… of the prosperity of neutrality. But the civil war of Aleusimai grows its borders with every passing day. I fear for our nation's oath, and our people."
Moments passed as Dijio's eyes remained above. Eventually, a voice answered.
"The prosperity of neutrality you say? And what of the loss of hesitation? The grief following the choice to restrain from a fight? One you could've changed?"
The voice spoke like an essence, not there in reality, but within his mind.
"Verdelle has no reason for battle," Dijio continued, his head lowered now. "I have no reason for battle."
Another moment passed. The figure chuckled.
"How fitting… I picked a pacifist to wield my powers in reality. I always knew you were soft."
Dijio laughed under his breath.
"I only wish to fight for my people. Not for glory. Not for other's ambitions. So I can bleed on my own terms… and make others bleed on theirs."
"How honorable, my chosen Dijio. Honorable indeed. Fear not, your time for such matters is near-coming. Something much larger than a mere civil war will threaten the doorsteps of humanity… one which I can not say for certain as of yet.
Dijio's eyes widened in the thought.
"I only know… that you will serve your part, or fate will instead. Farewell for now, Dijio. May you rest well."
Panic filled Dijio's voice as he reached for the moon.
"Aldorion! What do you mean? Answer! Answer!"
No response came. The shock alone left the young man in disbelief.
A war… bigger than the Civil War of Aleusimai? How?
The question remained unanswered. How could it be?
Dijio lowered his head to the ground with a sigh. The gods left many things in uncertainty, and for good reason, for the choices that could make such things reality—could be altered with a single decision. He knew that, but the cost of unknowing was concerning.
He stepped back to his candlelit room, with the aroma of flowers floating out into the balcony. His room was heavily decorated with swords of many kinds—some forged in ancient times, a few from right down the road.
He made his way to his circular bed, covered in new sheets topped with a single pillow. He flopped onto it, laying a hand over his face as thoughts of the conversation consumed him.
Time passed, and eventually he fell into slumber.