Elian had already been in Caerum Central for a year and four months—although he himself couldn't say exactly how much time had passed. His stay at the fortress had hammered him into a survival shape: he moved like someone crossing a minefield—alert, silent, always watchful.His days boiled down to a few tasks repeated until nausea: trying to sleep—which was almost impossible after his time in S's Fortress, where insomnia had become his closest companion; if sleep failed, looking for food; avoiding fights; avoiding talking to people; finding a corner to spend the day; scrounging enough provisions for the week—something he rarely managed; and, in general, trying to find somewhere to rest… or at least pretend to rest. With that, and with nothing else, Elian earned a nickname among the few who saw him more than once.
"Hey, little ghost… if you find something give me half and I'll pay you," a man once offered him while Elian rummaged through scrap."Little ghost… if you want, today I'll give you some of my supplies… but you give me half of what you find," another woman insisted when she saw him dragging corrugated sheets for his makeshift bed."Little ghost… if you want I can give you a place to live…" someone else began, and Elian cut them off by flinging a stone, then running away with a nearly expired can of soup as if it were gold. Since what happened with Salvart a year earlier, he'd learned to distrust "kindness" in that city.
They called him little ghost because he was small, quiet and pale—hereditary traces of his mother, Carol. Elian didn't care. If you left him alone, he'd leave you alone; and if you spoke to him, most likely he wouldn't even look at you or answer."Seems we're famous in this shitty place now, HAHAHA," the demon in his head mocked whenever someone called him that."What nonsense…" the angel muttered, displeased by the nickname.
So went the "peaceful" days of the little ghost… until the ever-present rumor found a way to scratch his routine. The story of the "Cursed Girl of Caerum Central" grew and fed on fear. For Elian, as long as that girl didn't bother him, he had no reason to intervene. But fate likes to deal its grand moves: one hand that would soon ignite a chain of events capable of dragging all of Lirium into war.
On June 19, 292 D.G.C., the world would witness a unique encounter. That dawn, as always, Elian couldn't sleep and went out to look for food. He scoured everywhere without luck. His stomach growled and the chorus in his head—those two discordant voices—didn't spare insults.
"Ha, another day you'll die of hunger… you're as miserable as shit," the demon sang with sadistic glee."You're truly useless," the angel retorted angrily. "It's the third day you haven't eaten. I'm getting tired of keeping us alive.""Ugh… shut up… aren't you bored of pestering me? The only unusual thing today is that you two aren't fighting to take control of my body," Elian muttered as he walked.
In the distance came a cluster of voices—shouts from a ruined alley. Could be a fight over food. Could be another misfortune. Elian moved closer and hid behind rubble.Three boys jeered. They mocked someone—or something.
"What are you going to do, piece of shit? If you can't speak you're nothing… Tom, better not let her open her mouth," one voice said."Don't worry, Fiódor, I won't let her speak," another replied, clutching the victim tightly."And what are you thinking, Fiódor? I doubt we can steal anything from her… she only has that stupid bag of stale bread," the third said."Ummm… I know…," Fiódor said cruelly. "Let's play target practice. This little bitch's mouth has had food for two weeks while we starve… Tom! Open her mouth so wide she can't move her jaw.""Ha… as you wish, Fiódor," Tom replied, squeezing the girl's cheeks until she was forced to open her mouth."Jacques… you always say you've got golden aim. Put five stones in the girl's mouth from over there. If you do it, you get the biggest share of whatever food we find," Fiódor grinned."One week!?" Jacques shouted in surprise. "Deal!" he said excitedly—then prepared to throw the stones at the terrified girl, who writhed and cried.
Elian thought: not my problem. I'll steal the bag and run. But the voices inside him shifted tone: the angel roared with indignation; the demon salivated at the morbid possibility of violence."Those scum must be judged," the angel thundered. "Whoever dares harm another living being… must die. It sickens me that you thought to wait, little one. You're worse than I thought.""Those bastards look strong! I want to kill them… I want to toy with them until they stop breathing," the demon delighted. "HAHA, I didn't know you feared fighting people, idiot… in the fortress you faced kids their age like nothing," it mocked.
Elian hesitated. If he intervened and the girl died? He didn't want more blood on his hands. Then he heard the dull thud—Jacques had thrown the first stone and it hit the girl on the head.
In a flash, both presences in his head tensed. He did something different: he refused to pick one."I won't choose either," he murmured. "Both options are stupid. Give me your strength."
There was an internal tug. Elian began to absorb, crudely at first, the energies of both entities; it was raw and primitive, but enough to alter something subtle in his eyes. A flash: his right iris turned feline red; the left became blue with a golden ring. He activated, without understanding, the Divine Vision.
"Hey!" he shouted, stepping from behind the rubble just as Jacques raised the second stone."And who the hell are you?" Fiódor barked, startled.
The three boys noticed his eyes—something animal, something strange. Before they could react, Elian moved. He was too fast for them: a blow sent Fiódor crashing into a pile of rubble unconscious; an upward kick slammed Jacques into the ground; and with surgical precision—guided by the Divine Vision—Elian struck the Elyth channels of Tom until the boy fainted. The girl fell free to the ground for the first time.
Elian couldn't believe what he'd done. For the first time he had overcome someone older than him."I'm incredible! I'M AMAZING!" he shouted, euphoria breaking him."They were nothing but shit," the demon sniffed, slightly disappointed at how easily they fell."Rough… but useful," the angel admitted grudgingly.
The girl, trembling, got up slowly. Her hands went to the bread."Come closer," she whispered, and the bag of stale loaves slid toward her. Her eyes ignited. A purple hue steamed across her gaze, and the tips of her hair gleamed violettish.
Elian heard the sound and turned toward her—she trembled when she saw his face backlit, the only thing shining being his mismatched pupils."Hey… I saved you… the least you can do is give me half your food," Elian said, taking a step forward. The girl shrank back, afraid.
"Stop," she said aloud, and Elian froze, his body refusing to move."W-What?" Elian stammered, struggling to move.
"Don't come near me," the girl whispered. "I'll give you half, but don't hurt me," she added, looking at him with fear and caution—she feared him because of how he'd struck the attackers.
Elian realized then that maybe she was frightened of him. He thought quickly: damn… I have to avoid scaring her or I won't get food."Hey, chill, okay? This first meeting wasn't great, but how about we start again?" Elian said, nervous and shy. "My name is 131… I mean— Elian… Elian Graves."
He nearly ruined it by saying a number—old habits die hard. He cursed inwardly."What's your name?" he asked.
The girl hesitated, but something in Elian's words—and the way he had stopped moving—made her answer, timid."L-Lucia… Lucia Ravenhall. Aren't you afraid of me?" she asked, watching his every movement.
"Why would I be afraid?" Elian answered honestly. "You're amazing. Controlling objects… that sounds incredible.""People call me 'the cursed girl' because of my Elyth—it's the one that stops you from moving," Lucia replied.
Elian stood stunned a moment by his own stupidity and incredulity: he had faced the so-called cursed girl. She didn't look evil or merciless; she looked like an ordinary girl. Then he remembered she'd said her power immobilized him."Wait… your Elyth was what kept me still?" he asked."Yes—my Elyth is called Domination… it lets me give orders to any object… or person," she said, then deactivated it; her purple eyes dimmed and her hair returned to black. "But I don't like using it on people," she added sadly, closing her eyes like someone who doesn't want to recall.
When he realized he could move again, Elian rushed forward, grabbed Lucia by the shoulders and, smiling wide with curiosity and astonishment, cried:"THAT'S AMAZING! How do you do it? Does it work on animals? Can you modify people if you want? Can you make everyone shut up?" He bombarded Lucia with questions; she stared, bewildered, but not frightened—she seemed excited.
"Back off!" she shouted, and he fell flying onto a pile of rubble near the still-unconscious Fiódor."Don't you fear me?" Lucia asked when he rose as if nothing had happened and came toward her again."Not at all. I think you're incredible—being able to control everything. That sounds… amazing," Elian smiled at her.
Lucia blushed without meaning to; the gesture was human, natural. She turned away, embarrassed—Elian gave her space, not wanting to be hurled aside again. For her, it was the first time in a long while someone looked at Lucia Ravenhall with wonder instead of terror. Someone saw Lucia, not the cursed girl.
"Hey… instead of giving you half my food, I can offer you a place to sleep," Lucia offered, not looking at him.
Elian hesitated: the last time he accepted help from a stranger he nearly became prey. But he didn't sense malice in Lucia's voice."Sure… Just to be safe… you're not crazy, right?" he asked skeptically and with a comic face.
"Hahaha… No," Lucia replied with a laugh. "Well, I don't think so," she added with a warm smile. "Come with me," she said, looking back and beginning to walk.
Elian stood for a moment, then ran to catch up."Hey, wait for me!" he shouted as Lucia took off. She led him to the place she'd called home for four years. Thus was born, that dawn among ruins and dim stars, the beginning of something larger: the origin of the legend of a lonely queen and an almost-divine human.