The sun was warm over the Alexandros estate, bathing the marble corridors in gold. The air was calm, filled with the gentle rustle of banners and the distant laughter of young attendants.
Inside the grand hall, a knight knelt before the throne, his armor gleaming in the afternoon light.
"Lord Heitr," the man said, his tone reverent. "Is something amiss?"
On the throne sat Heitr Alexandros, his long, black hair falling like a lion's mane over his shoulders. Heitr's golden-brown eyes flickered with quiet confusion.
"…Caldwell." he murmured, his voice low and uncertain. "I thought you had died."
The knight lifted his head, puzzled. "My lord? Have I done something to displease you?"
For a long moment, Heitr simply looked at him. The man who, in his memory, had fallen years ago. Yet here he stood, alive and breathing.
Heitr rose from his throne, his expression softening into a faint smile. "No, you've done nothing wrong, Caldwell. I just need a moment to walk."
"As you wish, my lord."
Heitr left the hall and stepped into the sunlight. The warmth touched his face, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he felt…peace. The world was alive around him, birds singing in the gardens, the hum of distant sparring in the training fields. But beneath that serenity was a single, unshakable truth.
Something has changed.
He paused at the edge of the training grounds, watching the swordsmen practice. Then, among them, he heard a voice that was bright, clear, familiar.
"Father!"
He turned toward the sound. A young lady ran toward him, her silver hair catching the sunlight, her white training garments fluttering like feathers.
"…Luna" Heitr said, the name escaping him as both breath and realization.
She stopped before him, smiling up with eyes full of happiness.
It struck him then, how different she looked. His eldest daughter, his firstborn who had scars all over from countless battles...and yet, here she was...no scars, face clear, smiling at him.
"Father, are you feeling unwell?" she asked, tilting her head. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Heitr shook his head slowly. "No, I'm fine. You just…surprised me." He paused curious on why everything looks fine he asked a question. "Luna, what is today's date?"
The question drew a puzzled look from her. "January twenty-fifth, year three thousand." she answered. "Why do you ask?"
Heitr forced a calm smile. "Just making sure I still remember things properly."
As Luna returned to her training, Heitr's gaze lingered on her, the sunlight haloing her form. "Ten years." He thought. "I've gone back ten years…but why do I still remember what hasn't happened yet?"
He turned away, deep in thought.
The succession war, the countless deaths...Caldwell's death in the fight against devils. The fall of his house into endless conflict. But now, here they all were, alive. Breathing.
And today…today was the Coming of Age Ceremony.
Heitr remembered it well. The day his youngest son, Saron, and the wolf-beastkin twins, Mael and Rain, would awaken their Numa. It was a sacred ceremony shared by all Alexandros children, a step toward power, identity, and destiny.
The Coming of Age was the moment when one's soul resonated with the Source, the eternal flame from which all creation was born. Every being carried within them a spark of that origin, called Numa.
The stronger the resonance, the closer one stood to divinity itself.
There were three recognized forms of Numa. Arcana, the disciplined, rational shaping of Numa through symbols and knowledge. Essentia, the instinctive, physical manifestation of will and vitality. Divinitas, the spiritual channeling of Numa through emotion, faith, or enlightenment.
As Heitr entered the Hall of Awakening, murmurs rippled through the gathered knights and scholars.
"Lord Heitr? You're here? I thought you wouldn't attend this year."
Heitr smiled faintly, taking his seat upon the elevated throne prepared for him. "I came," he said, voice calm but deliberate, "because I expect something…impressive to happen today."
As the hall settled and the light from the grand flame in the hall shined in a hundred colors, Heitr folded his hands, watching, waiting.
He didn't come seeking answers from the Source itself. He came to see whether the future he remembered was bound to repeat…or whether it would finally change.