The library of Althra was a cathedral of silence—its towering shelves filled with ancient tomes, their spines cracked and faded with age. The scent of old parchment lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hum of preservation magic. Sunlight streamed through the arched windows, painting dust motes gold as they drifted lazily through the still air.
The hero sat at one of the long tables, surrounded by open books and scrolls. His brow furrowed as his eyes traced lines of elegant script written in a language he could barely understand. Hours had passed, yet the answer he sought remained elusive.
Every record he found spoke of the same thing—the death of the last King six thousand years ago, his decree that the High Priestess would inherit the throne once she had "achieved something greater than any mortal could."
But none said what that "something" was.
The hero exhaled heavily and closed the last book, leaning back in his chair. "There's nothing," he muttered under his breath. "Not even a clue."
At that moment, the sound of boots echoed softly through the hall. Sir Aldren approached, his armor gleaming faintly in the filtered light.
"You've been here since dawn," the knight said, folding his arms. "Still searching for answers, I see."
The hero looked up, a mix of frustration and curiosity in his eyes. "Sir Aldren… can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
The hero hesitated, then spoke carefully. "What exactly did the Queen—back when she was still the High Priestess—achieve to become the ruler? The records don't say anything. They all stop right before that part."
Aldren tilted his head slightly. "You've been reading the royal archives, haven't you?"
"Yeah," the hero admitted. "But every book just repeats the same story. The King died, and before that, he said she would become Queen if she achieved something great. But then… nothing. No description. No history. Just blank space."
Aldren's gaze turned distant, his expression unreadable. "You're not the first to ask that question," he said after a moment. "Even among the knights, none know the full truth. The Queen's ascension is… a mystery that even the gods seem to have forgotten."
The hero frowned. "So no one knows? Not even you?"
The knight shook his head slowly. "If you wish to know about her past, you should visit the Church of the First Sun. The priestesses there preserve what little is remembered of her time before the crown. Perhaps they can offer you more than dusty records can."
The hero nodded thoughtfully. "The Church of the First Sun… got it."
---
The grand cathedral stood at the heart of the capital—a structure of white stone and golden glass that seemed to hum with divine energy. Inside, the air was cool and filled with the faint sound of distant chanting. The hero made his way down the long aisle, passing rows of statues depicting angels, saints, and heroes of old.
At the far end, he saw a young woman kneeling before the altar. She wore the robes of a novice priestess—white and blue, simple but elegant. Her silver hair caught the light as she turned, startled by his footsteps.
"Ah, forgive me," she said softly, rising to her feet. "I didn't hear anyone come in."
"It's fine," the hero said, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, I was hoping to ask a few questions. The knights told me to come here."
The young woman smiled gently. "Then you must be the summoned hero. I am Sister Lulu. What do you wish to know?"
He hesitated only a moment before asking, "Do you know what the Queen achieved six thousand years ago—before she became the ruler?"
Lulu blinked in surprise, then lowered her gaze, her expression thoughtful. "That question… has been asked for generations," she said quietly. "But the truth is, no one knows."
The hero frowned. "No one? At all?"
She shook her head. "The records from that time were sealed or lost. Even our oldest texts speak only of the King's final decree, not of the Priestess's achievement. Some believe it was an act of divine intervention. Others think it was something too terrible—or too sacred—to be written down."
The hero's brow furrowed. "So it's like everyone just… forgot?"
"In a way, yes," Lulu replied. "The Queen herself never speaks of it. When asked, she only says, 'It was the will of the gods.'"
He crossed his arms. "Could it be that she summoned the most powerful hero back then? One strong enough to destroy the Demon King once and for all?"
Lulu smiled faintly, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "That would be impossible."
"Why impossible?" he asked.
"Because the first Demon King appeared five thousand years after the Queen's ascension," she explained softly. "For an entire millennium, there was peace. No monsters, no demons, no darkness. The Queen ruled a world untouched by war."
The hero blinked, confused. "Wait—so there wasn't even a Demon King back then?"
"None," Lulu said. "The first Demon King rose long after her coronation. Which means… whatever she achieved had nothing to do with the Demon Wars."
He stared at her, his thoughts spinning. "Then what could she have done that was greater than any mortal act?"
Lulu shook her head slowly. "That, no one knows. Perhaps only the Queen remembers—and perhaps even she does not."
The hero stood there for a long moment, the silence of the church wrapping around them. Finally, he nodded. "Thanks, Sister Lulu. I appreciate your help."
"May the light guide your path, hero," she said with a small bow.
---
That night, back in his chamber, the hero sat by the window, gazing out at the distant palace spires glowing under the moonlight. The city was peaceful, but his thoughts were anything but.
Six thousand years of mystery. An immortal queen who could not—or would not—speak of her past.
And a legend that began a thousand years before the first Demon King even existed.
"What did you do…" he whispered to himself, "to earn eternity?"
He clenched his fists, determination flickering in his eyes. Whatever secret the Queen carried, it was the key to understanding not just her—but the endless cycle of war that bound this world.
When dawn came, he rose early and returned to the courtyard, where Sir Aldren awaited him with sword in hand.
"Ready for another day, hero?" the knight asked with a faint smile.
The hero nodded, gripping his training blade. "Yeah. More than ever."
And as the sun rose above the palace, their blades clashed once again—echoing through the air like the heartbeat of destiny itself.