After the great war of heaven, the superpowers had formed alliances.
Heaven had lost its champion.
Hell was under the orders of God, just like the Abyss. However, the Abyss gave room and lodging to the new residents: the fallen. The entire universal order had been spun out of control. There was no way for the son to return to the father.
In Hell, there was talk of new alliances. The Abyss had its new residents. Heaven had won the war... but it had lost the son. The Father tried to make the son return, but the son, out of pride, chose not to.
Thus, the Abyss, Heaven, and Hell were different worlds—different planets, far from each other, yet all under the dominion of the Almighty Father. Obviously, each had a king. In Hell, Satan ruled; in the Abyss, the Legionnaire commanded; and in Heaven, the Almighty ruled.
Then there were the angels: Michael, Gabriel, and his most powerful angel... who was no longer there. Still, God always had angels guarding His gates and the doors of the throne.
But there were many problems with just mentioning the son's name. Minds went blind, and gazes pointed, marking the actions of disobedience.
Then, an alliance between the Abyss and Hell began. The superpower of Heaven ignored and looked away from the great plans of Hell against a planet—the only planet, at that time, that held life in the entire universe.
The planet was called Jetris.
This world was home to thirty-seven races, each distinct and unique. There were humans, elves, and dwarves. One race consisted of geniuses; another, humans of vast knowledge. There were also many different tribes of beast-kin: half-panthers, half-tigers, half-wolves, and half-foxes. There was even a race of vampires and those who sailed the seas as pirates.
Yet, these races barely knew of each other's existence. Some had formed alliances, while others didn't even suspect that anyone else lived on the planet. Jetris was massive—so vast that it was three times the size of Jupiter.
Hell wanted to dominate it. Not for resources, nor simple ambition, but to send a message to Heaven. They wanted to prove that even if the Almighty claimed Hell and the Abyss were under His rule, they still held leadership. Conquering Jetris would show the Father that they, too, possessed true power.
The plans were about to begin.
Jetris was an impossible world. A colossal rocky planet with gravity thirty times that of Earth, where every step demanded sheer will and every breath was a conquest. Even so, it was the first place in the universe where life didn't just emerge—it thrived.
The thirty-seven races lived under the same sky, but the world was too ancient and vast for them to meet. Jetris was divided into three great continents.
On the third continent dwelt the Divine Dragons, an ancient race as old as the planet itself. It was said that the Dragon Emperor had been created by the Lord Himself—a primordial guardian, almost like a divine pet.
There were also the Crowned Beasts, races born from a forbidden heritage: descendants of fallen angels who, in forgotten eras, took wives from various beast tribes. From these unions came the half-angels—often called demigods—beings of mixed blood and uncertain destinies.
Most civilizations lived in a stage comparable to the Middle Ages. The Kingdom of Knowledge, dedicated to preserving the wisdom of Jetris, possessed almost no military power. In contrast, the Kingdom of Geniuses had advanced beyond their time, wielding firearms, complex mechanisms, and war golems. Along with the Kingdom of Knowledge, they were the most developed on the planet. The rest were only just beginning to emerge from the darkness of ignorance.
Siris watched over Jetris.
She had been an angel of Heaven. She fell, she repented, and she asked for forgiveness. But God did not allow her to return. Thus, Siris—an angelic female of serene beauty and eternal sorrow—was condemned to guard that world. She never imagined that her punishment would be to witness its annihilation.
Because Hell attacked.
Hundreds of portals opened simultaneously, tearing through reality across the three continents. In the territory of the dragons, the invaders were repelled with divine fury. But on the other two continents, the catastrophe was absolute.
The races were taken by surprise.
Each portal had a gem at its top: if it was destroyed, the portal would close. But the invaders were not simple demons. They were Heralos—creatures born from a common origin with demons, yet distinct, more ancient, and more powerful. To defeat just one, ten knights were needed.
Half of the population of Jetris was reduced to ashes.
High-ranking Heralos could not pass through—only soldiers and some captains... except in one single place: the Peninsula of the White Warlocks, where a General of the Heralos appeared.
The war lasted one hundred and fifty years.
One hundred and fifty years of fire, blood, and resistance.
The Demon King fought with his entire army and died closing his nation's portal. The elves deployed ancestral magic and were still nearly exterminated. The human kingdom fell into ruins. The vampires fought until their last breath. Each race fought alone, isolated in its own corner of the world.
The geniuses sent weapons, golems, and support, but even their ingenuity could not save entire cities. Jetris was on the brink of extinction.
Siris observed it all. Every death, every scream. Her anguish was immeasurable.
Only one portal remained open.
The Sacrifice of the Last Five
The last portal of Jetris roared like an open wound upon the Peninsula of the White Warlocks. The air, once pure and brimming with magic, now reeked of sulfur and charred flesh.
Inside the smoking ruins of the great castle, the silence was more terrifying than the screams outside. There, amidst rubble and shadows, the last five stood their ground: Duke Fausto Moreno, his wife Marion, little seven-year-old Luna, and their faithful servants, Paola and Ernesto. They were all that remained of a millennia-old race of sages and warriors. The others—their brothers, sisters, and friends—were already nothing but ash beneath the feet of the Heralos.
Suddenly, the ground trembled. A visceral roar caused the stones of the last bastion to groan. The beast had arrived.
It was a colossal chimera, a monstrous aberration with three heads—boar, lion, and hyena—its shadow towering five stories high. Obsidian claws scraped against the wooden gate, which was reinforced with spells that were now flickering out. Fausto spat through gritted teeth, feeling cold sweat race down his spine. He knew that if that door gave way, there would be no quick death. Luna would be devoured, Marion violated, and he... he would have to witness the end of his bloodline before being executed.
Marion, pale with the calm of one who has already accepted her fate, looked at Fausto one last time. There were no words, only a shimmer of infinite love and a terrifying determination in her witch's eyes.
"No!" Fausto managed to scream, but it was already too late.
Marion threw herself against the gate just as the chimera shattered it. In an act of absolute sacrifice, she unleashed her vital essence. It was no common spell; it was the explosion of a pure soul. The white blast enveloped the beast and disintegrated the vanguard of the Heralo army, leaving only a crater of silence and ash where his wife had once stood.
Fausto fell to his knees. His fingers clawed at the scorched earth.
"MARION!" His cry was a gut-wrenching wail that seemed to stop time itself.
But war has no mercy. From the smoke emerged the General of the Heralos. He walked with an insulting calmness. With a mocking smile, he rested the icy edge of his black sword upon the Duke's shoulder, forcing him to feel the weight of his own defeat while thousands of red eyes waited in the darkness of the portal behind him.
It was then that Luna, her heart in pieces and her eyes burning with a crimson light that did not belong to this world, stepped forward.
"Father..." the girl whispered.
Fausto watched in horror as his daughter's body began to turn translucent, dissolving into particles of light that danced in the air. Paola and Ernesto, in an act of loyalty that defied death, merged into that same glow. Fausto reached out to hold his little girl, but his fingers only passed through a comforting warmth.
Where his daughter had stood, three objects now floated, imbued with divine energy: a crimson ring, a sword with a solar gem, and a shield that seemed to breathe. Luna's sacrifice had shattered him completely, but her voice, clear and serene, resonated directly in his mind:
"Father... I will protect you. Let me fight for you."
A metallic armor emerged from the ring, covering his body completely. Fausto, at forty-eight years old and with a shattered soul, stood wrapped in dark steel and a tattered black cape.
He moved forward, each step heavy with the weight of his fallen world.
"Wait, father," Luna's voice whispered in his mind. "I have a solution. Take the sword with both hands, leave the shield upon the earth, and release its power."
"What power…?" he asked, his voice trembling with exhaustion and grief.
"Solar Flames," she replied.
Fausto obeyed. He dug his feet into the scorched earth, raised the blade toward the gray sky, and cried out the name of the incantation.
From the blade erupted a solar explosion. It was not mere fire, but pure, burning energy—the brilliance of a dying star. The Heralos were incinerated in an instant; the earth carbonized, the stone melted like wax, and the portal was destroyed from its very core.
In the midst of the devastation, only the General remained. The last open gateway to Jetris had been closed. The hundred-and-fifty-year war was reaching its end.
The General attacked. He was more powerful, a creature of ancient darkness. His blade pierced through the dark armor and deep into the Duke's chest. But Fausto, gathering every last ounce of strength he had left, commanded the shield to "bite" and lock the enemy's arm. With a cry of agony and fury, he drove his sword through the demon's throat, forcing the tip to emerge from the top of its head.
The blade did not just cut; it burned from within. The Heralo disintegrated into ash, scattered by the wind.
Fausto collapsed to the ground, bleeding out. He had lost his wife. He had lost his daughter. He had lost his world.
Then Luna's voice whispered again, soft and loving, like a lullaby:
"Daddy… don't worry. I will take you with me. I will save you."
The ring glowed with a blinding intensity. The armor, the sword, the shield… everything began to turn into eternal stone. All four—father, daughter, and faithful servants—were sealed within the crimson gem, preserved in a silent, rocky embrace.
And silence returned to the land of the White Warlocks. A silence that was absolute.
Aquí tienes la traducción completa y fiel al inglés, manteniendo cada escena y el tono épico de tu narración original para que encaje perfecto en el editor de Webnovel.
Prologue: The Angel's Prayer
It was an eternal silence.
Then, behind the shimmer of a small portal of light, a woman appeared. Her green hair fell like a mantle over her shoulders. It was Siris, the angel who had guarded those lands since time immemorial.
The last portal had been closed at the highest price: an entire family, an entire nation, erased from the world. Siris moved forward a few steps, contemplating the devastation, and finally fell to her knees upon the scorched earth. There were no flowers. There was no water. There was no life. Only dried blood, death, and ashes scattered everywhere.
Siris lowered her head and prayed.
"Why do you punish me like this, Father...?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Why?"
There was no answer.
Tears began to fall, one after another, vanishing into the ash. Her pain was immense, too great even for a celestial being. Then, a light tore through the darkness. The sky opened, and the sun descended with implacable clarity, illuminating that field of death.
Siris looked up. Gabriel, the mighty Angel of God, stood before her.
She looked at him with eyes full of tears. Gabriel held her gaze without harshness, but without compassion.
"Everything that has happened here," he said, "is a consequence of your disobedience, Siris."
She did not turn her eyes away.
"The Father did not protect this planet because it was your responsibility," he continued. "You fell. You disobeyed. And you did not have the power to defend it. All these people have died."
Siris took a deep breath before responding.
"I was forbidden to interfere, Gabriel," she said with contained firmness. "And even if I had... I would not have had the power to face what came."
Gabriel remained silent for an instant. Then he spoke with a solemn voice:
"I bring a message from the Lord. For your suffering, the Lord shall grant you two gifts. The war is over, but the mortals who were under your protection have lost too much. He will reward those losses. Still, remember this, Siris: you remain the one responsible."
The angel paused.
"The first gift is this: your sun shall be eternal. Jetris shall live forever. Its star will not change; it will never fade."
Siris closed her eyes.
"The second gift..." Gabriel continued, "the Lord wishes to hear what it is that you desire."
She remained silent for a few seconds.
"I desire nothing," she finally said, her voice trembling. "But if the Lord wishes to reward me for my suffering... I want to know love, Gabriel."
The angel watched her closely.
"I know it is a sin for me," Siris continued. "I know I shouldn't even think of it. But I have seen mortals love, be mothers, form families. I have seen how they give themselves to one another without reservation. I want to feel that... just once. I am a female, and only God can authorize me to love."
Gabriel nodded slowly.
"Very well," he said. "But your husband has not yet been born. When he is born, he shall be led to you. Remember this, Siris: You are forbidden from joining with a mortal. You cannot belong in the world of men."
Siris frowned.
"Who, then...?"
Gabriel answered without hesitation:
"The Father commands that you take the son of the Legionnaire. The one who carries his name."
Siris lowered her gaze.
"Legion will give me nothing," she said in a low voice. "And he has no sons."
"Not yet," Gabriel replied. "But he will. His son is already on his way. Legion disobeyed the Lord and formed alliances with Satan. Even so, he was forgiven. His punishment will be to surrender his son to you."
Silence enveloped everything once more. Siris bowed her head.
"Thank you, Father... for all You do for me."
Gabriel vanished. The figure of Siris slowly faded into the wind and the ashes that rose slowly over the dead earth.
And so, under an eternal sun, a story began that no god could stop.
Esta apertura es perfecta. El contraste entre la "tierra herida" de la península y la "luz dorada" del hogar de los Killerman establece el tono ideal para comenzar la aventura.
Aquí tienes la traducción al inglés épico para el editor de Webnovel:
First Arc: The War Arc
Chapter I: The Valley of the Locusts
A thousand years had passed since the last portal was sealed, leaving behind a scar that time itself could not erase. On the border separating the Kingdom of the White Mages from the ancient Peninsula of the White Warlocks, the world seemed divided in two.
The peninsula remained a wounded land. For centuries, its ruins knew only the language of ash and silence. Over time, twisted undergrowth and shadows gave refuge to beasts and monsters; only the Crowned Beasts—warriors of terrifying power—dared to claim dominion over that cursed soil. No one else lived there. No one else dared to defy the memory of annihilation.
Right at that limit, where life struggled to endure against what had died a millennium ago, lay the Valley of the Locusts. And in its heart, the village of Langar.
In Langar, time flowed differently. There lived a couple who represented the hope of the entire community: Horacio Killerman and his wife, Celeste.
Celeste, who had taken her husband's surname, was a wind mage from the distant Wind Empire. She had left her homeland behind to build a simple but fulfilling life. Horacio, for his part, was the captain of the local guard. Alongside a small group of soldiers, he served as the village's shield against wandering monsters and bandits who occasionally descended from the ruins of the peninsula.
Their house was small and humble, but within its walls, the air felt different, filled with a vitality that was contagious to the neighbors. While Horacio protected the walls of Langar, Celeste dedicated her days and her magic to caring for the elderly and healing the sick. They were more than neighbors; they were the guardians of the village's soul.
However, behind their smiles lay a longing that had haunted them for years: the desire to have a child.
Pregnancy seemed like an impossible miracle. Horacio was not a human being; his origins traced back to another world, a distant planet, and the love for a mortal does not usually bear fruit under the laws of nature. But the love between them was a force that did not understand the word "impossible."
Until the miracle happened.
When Celeste found out she was pregnant, Horacio's joy was something never before seen in the valley. He, a being from another world who thought his lineage would end with him, felt the weight of eternity in his hands for the first time.
One afternoon, as the golden light of that eternal sun streamed through the window, Celeste gently took her husband's hand and guided it to her womb.
"My love," she whispered with a smile that lit up the room. "Inside this belly, our great treasure is growing."
Horacio leaned in and rested his face against his wife's womb. He closed his eyes, letting the silence of the home envelop him, until he felt a small movement beneath his cheek. A little kick. An excited, almost childlike laugh escaped his warrior's chest. In that instant, between the border of death and the future of his son, nothing else existed but the beauty of life.
¡Claro que sí! Aquí tienes la traducción al inglés. He mantenido el tono dramático y directo de tu narración, respetando el orden de los hechos de la versión editada.
English Translation
But the universe is vast. And while hope was being born in Langar, on another planet, far away from there, tragedy began to brew.
On a planet called Earth, in a continent its inhabitants called America, there existed a country called Argentina. In the city of Rosario, Santa Fe province, lived a man with his wife and two children. He was Santafesino. An orphan. He had been raised by nuns and in orphanages, within Catholic schools. Since he was a child, life had been a constant struggle. He studied, he strove, he moved forward. He was a scholar. A genius.
Despite having had an early marriage at eighteen, he had formed a family. He was twenty-eight years old. So was his wife. They had two children: a twelve-year-old boy, who was his world, and a ten-year-old girl, who was his treasure. They were the light of his eyes.
He worked with his best friend at the company belonging to the friend's father. He decided to stay in his country despite having received scholarships from all over the world and having obtained five university degrees—medicine, law, accounting, business administration, and metallurgical engineering. That friend was his first friend, almost a brother. He had no family.
His wife had become pregnant in her adolescence and he took responsibility. She also finished her studies. He, ambitious and brilliant, continued accumulating knowledge. But he was naive. Too naive.
One night, after returning from work and having had a few drinks with his friend, he entered his house and went straight to the bedroom. He found his wife sitting on the bed, crying. His children were playing in the backyard. Tears fell in silence. He approached and tried to hug her, sitting by her side. She pushed his arm away.
"Don't touch me."
He frowned, worried.
"What's wrong? What did I do? Why are you crying?"
She took a deep breath.
"I need to talk to you."
"All right," he replied. "I'm listening. What's going on?"
She hesitated for a few seconds.
"I need you to know the truth."
"What truth?"
"A truth I have hidden from you for twelve years."
The man's heart raced.
"Twelve years…" he repeated. "That's how long we've been together. Why are you telling me this now?"
Fear took hold of him.
"Is something wrong with our children?" he asked. "Are they okay?"
"No," she replied. "Nothing is wrong with them… but it involves them too."
Rage began to grow, but he remained calm.
"Tell me what's happening."
She looked down.
"They are not your children."
The world stopped.
"What do you mean they aren't my children?" he said, trembling. "They are my children."
"They are mine," she corrected. "But you are not the father of either of them."
The man's body began to shake. Tears flowed uncontrollably.
"What do you mean I'm not the father…?" he whispered. "You got pregnant in high school…"
She closed her eyes.
"Our eldest son belongs to your best friend. I approached you because I wanted to be with him… but I got pregnant. By you and by him, at the same time. He didn't want to take responsibility. My parents kicked me out for lying to you."
"You lied to me…?" he said. "Is Lucios the father? Lucios, who is a millionaire, didn't take responsibility? I always hated your parents for throwing you out on the street…"
"They didn't kick me out because of the pregnancy," she replied. "They kicked me out for lying to you."
Rage pierced through him.
"And my daughter?" he asked. "Why do you say she isn't mine either?"
She looked up.
"Because I never stopped being with Lucios. We were lovers all this time. I was always in love with him."
The man was breathing with difficulty.
"And why are you so sure?"
"Because I had tests done on you, Kai," she said. "You can't have children. You are sterile."
The pain was unbearable.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, devastated.
"I want you to leave," she answered. "These children are not yours. Lucios is going to separate from his wife and he is going to take care of us. He already showed me the divorce papers."
He looked at her with eyes full of tears.
"You are despicable to the core, Mariela."
He stood up.
"I will leave," he said. "And I will never come back."
He walked out the door. She didn't even look at him.
Kai walked aimlessly through the streets of Santa Fe. He had no cell phone. He had no ID. He had no wallet. He had nothing. He had left his house without looking back. He hadn't even looked at his children when he crossed the door. The pain was too great. He was devastated, destroyed inside, as if something essential had broken forever.
He walked until he reached a Santa Fe highway. And he kept walking. Each step was a mixture of emptiness and ire. Dark thoughts piled up on one another. He wanted to end it all. He wanted to end his life. He wanted to confront his friend, demand an explanation for the betrayal, stab him with a knife if necessary. The image of his wife and his best friend together haunted him relentlessly. He imagined them in bed, laughing, lying to him for years.
Rage dominated him.
He walked for hours. The sky grew dark. Night fell without him noticing. By the time the clock struck around eleven-thirty, he no longer knew where he was. He only knew he kept walking.
Then, looking toward the other side of the road shoulder, he saw a small food stall lit by dim lights. There was a woman with a baby in her arms. A boy of about fourteen. Another woman behind the stall. And two other men. And there was a drunk man.
The man was screaming. He had a gun in his hand.
"You cheated on me, damn you!" he shouted. "I'm going to kill you!"
The woman at the stall and the other two men tried to calm him down, to intervene, to protect the mother and the children. The woman with the baby began to cry. The man raised the gun and fired into the air.
The thunderous sound broke the night. Everyone threw themselves to the ground, terrified. The woman with the baby fell to her knees. The fourteen-year-old boy, however, stood up. With desperate bravery, he stepped between his mother—at whom the gun was pointed—and his father, drunk and hurt by the infidelity.
The others remained on the ground, paralyzed by fear. Kai didn't think. He didn't hesitate. He ran.
The boy tried to snatch the gun from his father at that very moment. Kai arrived just in time. He pushed the boy hard, moving him out of the line of fire. The shots rang out almost at the same time. Three hits to the chest. Three shots.
Kai fell to the ground suddenly. The man, realizing what he had done, dropped the weapon and ran away, lost in the darkness. Screams, crying, pleas for help. Someone called the police. Others tried to approach.
Kai was bleeding out. The blood gushed out fast, too fast. The hits were lethal. He barely registered the physical pain; his mind was already far away. He felt the cold of the night, the weight of his body against the asphalt.
And in that final instant, as life escaped him, he only managed to think… or to say:
"Thank you, Father… for everything you have given me."
A white light flooded his mind. It illuminated his eyes.
Chapter II — Beautiful Aliarda
Horacio and Celeste had a daughter. They named her Aliarda. She was a beautiful girl. She had blue eyes, white skin, and a soft, almost fragile smile that seemed to light up the room even on the greyest days. To them, Aliarda was a miracle; the fruit of a love that had defied different worlds.
But there was a problem: Aliarda was born sick. Her skin changed color for no apparent reason: sometimes it turned reddish, other times as pale as wax. She suffered episodes of fever, sudden vomiting, and a deep exhaustion that did not belong to a newborn. This filled Horacio and Celeste with anguish. The joy for their daughter lived alongside a constant fear.
They visited doctors in different towns, healers, and minor mages. Nothing seemed to explain what was happening to her. Finally, they traveled to the capital of the Kingdom of the White Mages, where the most experienced professionals examined the girl for entire days. The diagnosis was baffling. Aliarda did not suffer from any disease.
"Her body consumes energy at an unusual speed," they told them. "It is not a lack of magic or health… it is her nature."
The cause was clear and, at the same time, impossible to remedy. Horacio was not from that world. The mix of races—the union between a being from another planet and a mortal—had caused the girl's body to spend vital energy at an accelerated rate. She was in no immediate risk of death, but she would always be weak, delicate, and dependent on the constant care of her parents. There was no cure. There was no solution.
Six months passed since her birth. The house remained full of love, but also of silences heavy with fear. Many nights, Horacio and Celeste sat by Aliarda's crib, holding hands and crying in silence. They prayed. They begged God for a miracle. They feared losing her because of that strange, incomprehensible condition.
One afternoon, Horacio went to the forest to chop wood. While he worked, he heard a cry. It wasn't a loud cry; it was weak, almost muffled. He stopped. He listened carefully. He thought it might be a lost child. He set his axe aside and began to search among the trees, through the snow and the frozen mud. He found nothing. The crying ceased.
He returned home restless and told Celeste about it. She listened with concern, but they both thought the same thing: their daughter's illness was affecting his mind. Fear was starting to play tricks on them.
But Horacio had heard something real.
In the very same place where he had searched, the earth began to move. Slowly, two tiny hands emerged from the ground, like petals pushing their way through the snow and the mud. A dark, deep energy covered the entire area, enveloping the trees, the air, and time itself.
The crying returned. A baby. He played with the snowflakes, taking them between his tiny fingers, laughing and crying at the same time. Despite the extreme cold, his body did not shiver. He was not sick. He was not frozen. The dark energy dissipated, and the world fell silent.
It was a miracle. This child had not been born from a womb. He did not come from the union of a couple. He had no mother or father in the mortal sense. He had been born from Mother Earth. His birth was extraordinary. The earth trembled. Time stopped. The white light of the snow received him. Between the mud and the cold, a little one was born who, without anyone knowing it yet, would change the history of the entire universe.
While Celeste and Horacio slept in their small cabin, far from the village, the night moved restlessly in the forest. Among the snow-covered grasses walked a powerful beast. He was a huge wolf, with thick fur and ancient eyes. His name was Fenris, a crowned beast, guardian of those lands for generations. His paws sank into the snow with a firm weight as he advanced among the trees, attentive to every sound.
Then he stopped. He sniffed the air. He had never felt that before. A dark, dense, absolute energy. Pure evil, spreading like an invisible tide among the trunks. The entire forest was permeated with that aura. Fenris tensed his body.
"A Heralo..." he thought. "Have they returned?"
Or perhaps something worse. A creature from the underworld. He took his humanoid form and advanced with caution, following the trail until he reached a clearing. There, a powerful black aura enveloped a tiny creature. A baby. The newborn played with the mud and the snow, laughing and crying at the same time, oblivious to the cold and the danger. The dark energy surrounded him like a living mantle… and, suddenly, it dissipated.
Fenris took a step forward.
"You are just a child..." he murmured.
He reached out his hand to touch him. The pain was immediate. His skin burned upon contact. He withdrew his hand with a stifled growl. He then took a cloth he had with him and wrapped the baby carefully. That way, he could hold him. He didn't know what to do. He knew that creature was dangerous… but he could not abandon him. Nor kill him.
Looking up, he discerned a small cabin among the trees in the distance. With his keen sense of smell and sight, he perceived two humans inside… and another baby. He understood. This child needed mother's milk. He moved with stealth. In the middle of the night, without making a sound, he approached the cabin. He placed the baby at the door, knocked once… and disappeared into the forest before being seen.
As he ran, a thought pierced him: That child is dangerous… but he doesn't deserve to die in the snow.
Inside the cabin, Horacio woke up suddenly. He jumped out of bed, his heart racing. They lived alone, in the middle of the forest. He took his sword and approached the door with caution. Upon opening it, a gust of freezing wind hit him in the face. And he saw him. A baby. Wrapped in a cloth, covered in mud.
Horacio stood petrified.
"Celeste...?" he called. "Come quickly."
He picked him up carefully and took him inside, closing the door immediately.
"What do you have there?" she asked, alarmed.
"It's a baby," he replied. "They left a baby at our door."
Outside, Fenris watched for a moment longer… and then lost himself among the trees.
Celeste wasted no time. She heated water, took clean cloths, and began to clean him delicately. The child was not cold. He was not shivering. He was smiling. She immersed him in the warm water. The baby laughed softly, as if it were a game. When Celeste took him in her arms, the child smiled again… and for a moment he wore a serious, deep expression, as if he could see her, as if he were watching her. She did not notice it.
She dried him, placed him near the stove, and then held him against her chest.
"How is he?" Horacio asked, restless.
"He's not frozen. He isn't cold," she replied. "He's fine. Don't worry… I'll let him nurse."
The baby latched onto her breast. He drank calmly and, before long, fell asleep. Celeste carefully settled him next to her daughter Aliarda's crib. Both looked at him in silence.
"How can they be so brutal...?" Celeste whispered. "To abandon a baby in this blizzard…"
"There are very evil people," Horacio responded. "I don't understand how someone can do something like that."
Celeste looked down.
"Let's sleep," Horacio said after a moment. "Tomorrow we will see what we do with this child."
Celeste hugged him. She kissed him gently. And together they fell asleep, holding each other in their small bed, without knowing that that night they had opened the door to a destiny that would be impossible to close.
Chapter III — The Beginning
The following morning, Horacio and Celeste woke up early. Both babies slept peacefully, with serene expressions. Kai breathed softly, and Aliarda smiled in her dreams. Celeste was the first to notice it. She approached her daughter's crib… and stood motionless.
Aliarda was not pale. Her skin had color. She was not burning with fever. Her tiny lips were not bluish. Celeste widened her eyes and watched closely. Her daughter's little eyes had recovered their lost brightness.
"Horacio..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "Come... please."
He approached immediately.
"What's wrong?" he asked, worried.
"Look at her," Celeste said. "She's smiling... she's fine. She's really fine."
"What is different about her?" he responded, not understanding.
"No... look at her closely. She isn't sick. She isn't weak."
Horacio took her in his arms. And then he opened his true eye. The eye that sees everything. The eye of the Legionary, King of the Abyss. He saw the energy flowing inside his daughter. Complete. Stable. Healthy. Aliarda no longer lacked anything.
Horacio held his breath. Then he looked at the other baby: Kai. When he tried to observe him with the same eye, he saw nothing special. He was, to the naked eye, a normal human. No marks. No visible aura. But his mind understood before his reason did.
"This child is magical," he thought. "He healed my daughter."
Aliarda smiled at him and made little faces, as if she felt his joy. Horacio laughed. A laugh charged with relief, with pure happiness. An old, deep suffering had just disappeared.
"She is healthy, my love," he said, his voice breaking. "Our daughter is healthy."
Celeste placed a hand on her chest.
"How do you know?"
"I can see it," he replied. "And I believe this child..."—he looked at Kai— "...has healed her."
Celeste burst into tears. She took the baby carefully and held him against her chest.
"It is a miracle from the Lord," she whispered. "A gift for us."
"He must have a name," Horacio said. "A strong name."
Celeste smiled through her tears.
"You shall be named Kai."
Horacio nodded.
"And he will carry my last name: Guillermo. It is my reward for saving my daughter."
The two of them were immensely happy.
They did not know they had just bestowed that last name upon a being whose destiny they did not yet understand.
Kai grew alongside Aliarda. But Aliarda did not grow. Time passed. Kai turned one year old. He walked, he babbled, he laughed. Aliarda remained small, fragile, the same.
One night, Celeste asked:
"Horacio... why is Kai growing and Aliarda is not?"
He hesitated for a moment.
"She needs much more energy to grow," he replied. "My species consumes a lot. Don't worry… it could take centuries."
Celeste looked at him.
"Centuries...?"
Horacio took a deep breath.
"My species is immortal, Celeste. You are mortal. You must understand this."
She hugged him tightly.
"It's okay," she said. "I won't ask anymore. I will always take care of her."
As they spoke, someone knocked on the door. Celeste was startled.
"Who could it be at this hour?"
Horacio felt the presence before opening. He opened the door. A woman with green hair was standing there. Beautiful. Serene. Ancient. Horacio stepped out and closed the door behind him.
"What do you want, Siris?"
"Legion," she replied. "I have come because the Father has promised your son to me as a husband. He shall be mine."
Horacio grit his teeth.
"I only have babies here."
"I know," Siris said. "That is why I have come. I will take your firstborn."
A pang of pain shot through Legion's chest.
"And who told you that I had to hand my son over to you?"
"The Father," she answered. "Gabriel informed me. It is your punishment for abandoning the throne of the abyss to live here… like a mortal in love."
"Leave Celeste out of this," Legion growled.
"I have no interest in your life," Siris said. "I am taking the child, and you will never see me again."
"Wait here."
Legion went inside. Celeste looked at him immediately.
"Who is it?"
"Siris."
"And what does she want?"
"She wants our son."
Celeste stood up.
"What do you mean, our son? We only have Aliarda! Kai is not our son!"
"I will not give her Aliarda," Legion said. "I must hand over my firstborn."
"I will not give my daughter to anyone!" Celeste shouted.
"I know. She will not touch her. We will give her Kai."
Celeste froze.
"What do you mean, Kai?"
"She wants a boy with my last name. Kai has it. It is the only thing I will give her."
Celeste looked down.
"Then… do it."
Legion took little Kai, who barely spoke.
"Come, boy."
He took him outside to a rock, under the moon. It was midnight. Siris appeared from among the trees. She tried to touch the child. Her hand burned. But in that instant, the bond was sealed. The Creator's pact was fulfilled. The child's energy was too dark for a being of light.
Siris could not move any closer. She smiled sweetly.
"When you grow up… I will return, my love."
She disappeared.
Legion, hidden behind a tree, went and grabbed Kai. He returned with him in his arms.
"We must leave now," he told Celeste. "She will realize he is not my son. She will come for Aliarda. She won't care about anything."
"Where will we go?"
"To my kingdom. I will return to the throne. You will be my queen."
Celeste hugged him.
"And Kai?"
Legion looked down.
"We cannot take him. He is a magnet for her. We must leave him in some village."
"Are you going to abandon him after he saved our daughter?"
"I gave him my last name," he replied. "He is male. He is my heir. I owe him nothing more."
That same night, Horacio—Legion—took a cart and rode to the center of the village. He entered the church.
"I found this child in the forest," he told a nun. "I cannot take responsibility for him."
She took him in her arms.
"Do not worry. We will take care of him."
By the next day, the captain of the village had disappeared. Horacio and Celeste left with Aliarda. Legion reclaimed the throne of the abyss. Celeste became his queen. And Aliarda, the first princess of the abyss.
And Kai… Kai was left behind.
While Legion and his family enjoyed their kingdom, far from there, little Kai grew up in an orphanage in that humble village near the border. The first seven years of his life were, in many ways, happy.