Time moved like the wind in the World of Jade.
What once felt like a fantasy quickly became Elijah's reality. Under Alaric's watchful eyes, he had learned to cook meals from magical beasts, fight with both fists and blade, read ancient runes, and even speak fluently in the language of Jade.
"Slice the root counterclockwise," Alaric would bark while stirring a glowing pot.
"If you boil soul herbs clockwise, it turns into poison."
"Again," he'd command during combat training.
"Don't just swing the blade. Let the blade become your will. If you hesitate—you die."
At first, Elijah had thought he was just living a quiet, peaceful life. He'd laugh while burning soup, cry after dislocating a shoulder in training, and smile when an old villager waved at him during his trips into the village.
"Oi! Elijah! Don't forget to bring some sky potatoes next time!"
"You've grown strong, boy! Stronger than your age!"
The village accepted him. Kids played tag with him. Elders shared stories. Shopkeepers taught him how to trade.
This was the life he never had.
And slowly, a full year passed.
The stars shone brighter than usual. The floating islands cast long shadows, and the air carried a strange melancholy.
Inside their humble cottage, Alaric sat at the desk, silently flipping through a pile of glowing documents. Elijah entered, sweat still on his brow from a solo training session.
"Still working?" Elijah asked.
Alaric didn't look up. His voice was steady.
"Come here. It's time."
Elijah blinked and stepped forward. Alaric handed him a bundle of scrolls bound by golden string and a wax seal marked with a crescent moon.
"These are your property documents. Land ownership. Tax exemption papers. Weapon registration. Identity mark. Put them safe."
Elijah opened his mouth to ask a question, but stopped.
Something was different tonight.
Alaric stood slowly and faced him, eyes serious.
"I've given you everything you need. Shelter. Skills. A name. A chance."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a metallic card, etched with blue glyphs. It gleamed faintly in the lantern light.
"This is a student card for Constantine High, the most dangerous—and prestigious—academy in this realm."
Elijah's eyes widened.
"Dangerous…?"
Alaric nodded.
"You'll enter in four days. From then on… you're on your own."
He placed a neatly folded a neatly folded black-and-gold uniform on the polished wooden table.
The jacket caught the glow of the firelight — its fabric gleaming like obsidian silk, trimmed with regal gold at the cuffs, lapels, and hem. Sharp lines ran down its length, tailored to perfection, evoking the image of nobility and discipline. It didn't just look like clothing — it looked like a statement.
Embroidered on the left shoulder in intricate golden thread was the crest of Constantine High:
A majestic lion, eyes burning with determination, stood upright on two legs — one paw gripping a silver sword raised high, the other braced against a shield of runes. The detail was so fine, the lion almost looked alive.
Now Alaric went to the door.
Elijah frowned.
"Wait… You're leaving?"
Alaric didn't answer right away. He looked at the lantern, then exhaled softly.
"It's time. I've stayed longer than I should have. My role was to prepare you—not to walk beside you forever."
"I don't know your destiny, Elijah Everhart. I don't know what awaits you—whether glory or ruin. But I will always appreciate the effort you gave. The boy you were. And the man you're becoming. Always follow the will to of Everheart. This is the name you have carried since birth."
Elijah stood frozen. His throat tightened. A dozen words wanted to come out, but none made it past his lips.
Instead, he stepped forward.
And hugged him.
"Thank you… for everything."
There was a long pause.
Then Elijah felt Alaric's arms return the embrace, firm and warm.
"You did well, boy."
When they finally separated, Alaric smiled—just a little. His voice cracked, but he masked it quickly.
"Your journey starts now."
He turned toward the door.
"Live well, Elijah. And… don't die too easily."
Then he walked into the night, his long coat fluttering behind him.
But just before he crossed the garden path, he paused.
Elijah saw it—Alaric lifting his hand and wiping something from his face.
He didn't turn around again.
Elijah stood at the doorway long after Alaric disappeared.
He looked down at the Constantine High card, then at the uniform, and finally at the glowing sky.
"So this is it, huh?"
He clenched his fists. His reflection stared back at him in the window glass—no longer the scared, ragged orphan of Earth.
But a trained survivor.
"Alright… Let's see what this new world throws at me."