REBORN

Darkness.

That was the first thing he noticed.

Not the peaceful kind, either. It wasn’t the quiet sleep of dreams or the gentle black of closed eyes. This darkness pressed in on him, heavy and suffocating, like being wrapped in thick velvet that stole sound, time, and thought.

Am I… dead?

The last thing he remembered was pain—sudden, sharp, and unfair. Then nothing.

And then—

Warmth.

A strange warmth surrounded him, rocking him back and forth. Muffled sounds echoed around him: voices, heartbeats, a deep rhythmic thump that felt comforting in a way he couldn’t explain.

His thoughts were slow, scattered, like trying to run through water.

This… feels wrong.

Suddenly, light burst through the darkness.

He cried out.

The sound startled him.

That was… my voice?

Hands lifted him gently. Air rushed over his skin, cold and new. Shapes formed above him—faces, blurry but smiling. A woman with long silver-blonde hair cried tears of joy. A man with sharp features and kind eyes laughed deeply, his voice full of pride.

“A son,” the man said. “He’s strong.”

“A miracle,” the woman whispered, holding him close.

As the newborn’s cries echoed through the chamber, something impossible happened.

Memories flooded in.

A life before.

A world without magic.

A boy who had dreams of adventure—but never got the chance.

And now…

I’ve been reborn.

Twelve years passed quickly.

The boy—now known as Prince Aetherion Valerion Aurelion—stood on a high balcony overlooking the capital city. White marble towers rose into the sky, glowing under the golden sun. Floating crystals drifted lazily above the streets, providing light and magical protection. Airships hummed softly in the distance.

This world was called Elyndor.

A world of magic.

Aetherion’s white hair fluttered in the breeze, shining almost like freshly fallen snow. His face was calm, but his eyes were anything but ordinary.

His left eye was a soft rose-pink, glowing faintly when magic stirred nearby.
His right eye was a clear sapphire blue, deep and sharp like the ocean.

Heterochromia was rare in Elyndor.

Royal heterochromia? Almost unheard of.

Whispers followed him wherever he went.

The Twin-Eyed Prince.
The Blessed Child.
The One Touched by Mana.

Aetherion sighed.

“Still staring at the city like it’s going to disappear?” a small voice teased.

He turned to see his little sister, Princess Lyra, standing behind him. She was eight years old, with black long straight hair and bright blue eyes full of mischief. She held a wooden practice wand that was clearly too big for her.

“Just thinking,” Aetherion replied with a smile.

“Thinking is boring,” Lyra declared. “Come train with me!”

Before he could answer, the balcony doors opened.

“Aetherion,” came a regal yet warm voice.

The King of Aurelion, his father, stepped out. Tall, broad-shouldered, with black hair , King Aldric radiated authority. At his side stood Queen Selene, her presence calm and powerful, her mana so refined it felt like a gentle ocean tide.

“It’s time,” the king said. “Your departure is today.”

Aetherion nodded.

He had known this day would come.

In Elyndor, magic users were ranked:

F Rank – barely able to sense mana

E–D Rank – common citizens

C–B Rank – trained mages and knights

A Rank – elites

S Rank – legends

Above that?

Myths.

SSS Rank.

Officially, SSS Rank didn’t exist.

Unofficially… Aetherion was living proof.

From the moment he could walk, magic responded to him. Mana bent willingly, like an old friend eager to help. He could cast spells without incantations. Control multiple elements. Shape raw mana into constructs.

It terrified the court.

So his parents made a choice.

They sealed most of his power.

Only King Aldric, Queen Selene, Lyra, and one other person knew the truth.

Aetherion kept his strength hidden, pretending to be merely A Rank—already impressive for his age.

“Remember,” Queen Selene said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “At the academy, do not stand out too much.”

Aetherion smiled. “I’ll try.”

The king chuckled. “That’s what worries me.”

The Royal Magic Academy of Astraea floated above a massive lake, held aloft by ancient enchantments. Its towers spiraled upward, connected by glowing bridges of mana. Students from every race and kingdom gathered here: humans, elves, beastfolk, dwarves, and more.

Aetherion stood at the academy gates, dressed in a simple noble uniform rather than royal robes. Only a discreet crest marked him as a prince.

Freedom, he thought.

For the first time, he wouldn’t be surrounded by guards every second.

Inside, excitement buzzed through the air.

“Did you hear? A prince enrolled this year!”

“I heard there’s an elf prodigy too!”

“Look at his hair—wait, his eyes are different colors!”

Aetherion pretended not to notice and made his way to the central hall.

That’s when he felt it.

A presence.

Soft—but ancient.

Mana unlike anything he’d felt before.

He turned.

Across the hall stood a girl about his age.

She had emerald-green hair, long and flowing like leaves in spring. Her ears were unmistakably elven, elegant and pointed. Her eyes shimmered gold, filled with curiosity rather than fear.

She noticed him at the same time.

Their gazes met.

The mana around them stirred.

Not violently.

But warmly.

Like two melodies finding harmony.

The girl smiled first and walked over.

“Hi,” she said cheerfully. “You’re new too, right?”

Aetherion blinked—then smiled back.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m Aetherion.”

“I’m Elara,” she said, extending her hand. “Want to explore the academy together?”

He shook her hand.

And just like that—

The prince found his first friend.

End of Chapter 1