Chapter 3

James crossed the portal. For a few brief moments, his vision was a chaotic explosion of colorful lights; then, an intense vertigo churned his stomach; and finally, the sensation of firm, almost solid stability beneath his feet.

He had arrived.

The first thing he registered was that the place looked like a village, but it was ten times larger than Asmalia. The houses were not wooden cabins, but robust, modern, and resilient structures built from dark stone and thick wooden beams. And then, the people...

"There are no commoners here. Are they all nobles?" James thought, feeling the contrast of his simple clothes against the better-quality outfits the others wore.

Yet what was most striking was not the attire, but the subtle yet constant sound of metal against leather, a symphony of danger. Turning his head, he saw that most of them carried swords, bows, or even strange staves strapped to their belts. Serious tools of war.

"What place is this? It's incredible! I've never seen so many people like this."

Galen, who was now walking with his hood down revealing his weathered and tired face, smiled as he heard him. His expression was not one of joy, but of soft resignation.

"You're right, lad. This place isn't just anywhere. Several beings like myself are gathered here. People with supernatural gifts, fighting to reclaim justice in this realm."

James's excitement was palpable, a small spark of hope after the ashes. But the tragedy could not be forgotten.

"What would happen if the Zarion reach this place?"

"Even if they wanted to, they can't right now. This site is hidden by magic. They haven't been able to find it."

As they walked further in, James felt that something fundamental didn't fit. The people didn't just dress differently; they were different. Some had features that definitely weren't human. Others exhibited notable variations in size and build.

Galen, noticing James's perplexity, smiled.

"This place isn't like Asmalia, kid. Here live those who have decided to stop hiding."

James stopped in his tracks, open-mouthed. He saw a tall man with horns sprouting from his forehead and a small woman with pointed ears. The air, James noticed, smelled of wood, humidity, and a strange metallic essence, the magic.

"Looks like you've already met our friends," said Galen warmly, giving James no time to ask. "In Wisteria, humans aren't the only race. The Zarion have forced us all to live in the shadows, to hide who we are. Here, in the Refuge City, we are all free."

"What did you say?" James was completely dazed. "Are there other races besides humans?"

"Exactly. You lived your entire life in a small, isolated village. I'm not surprised by your confusion. For their own safety, the villagers would never speak of it."

Suddenly, a loud voice cut through the conversation.

"You finally arrive, Galen! We've been waiting all day."

A girl approached. She had long black hair and gave off a strong scent of jasmine and, perhaps, impatient authority. Her voice cut through the street bustle like a whip. Amelia. At her side, another boy of mixed heritage followed her with a friendly expression.

"That's right, I'm so sorry, Amelia. Things got a little complicated," responded Galen, observing James.

Amelia studied James intently, her piercing eyes.

"So this boy went through the same thing too, no?"

Galen nodded. "Exactly."

"Right, let's head to the base to continue the topic."

Upon arriving at the base, James felt a twinge of nervousness. In the room there were already several kids. Including Amelia and her friend, they seemed to be seven in total.

Galen entered immediately, drawing attention.

"Correct. It seems you are already complete," said Galen, reviewing each one with his gaze. "It's time to tell you the reason why you are here."

The kids looked at him, expectant.

"It's about time!" said the tall, blond boy with hair that shone under the light.

"Listen attentively, because this information is very important," continued Galen, with a seriousness that dissipated the atmosphere. "You are our only hope."

"What are you trying to tell us?" asked Amelia.

"It's understandable that everyone has had unpleasant experiences with the Zarion. But you are not here just because we rescued you from danger."

"Are you hiding something from us, old man?" The tall, blond boy interrupted with a voice that, although young, was authoritative.

Galen went straight, without flinching:

"What I mean is that... you will help us defeat the Zarion, definitively."

The room stayed in a sepulchral silence. Then, the tension exploded.

"Are you playing with us? Those monsters almost killed us!" shouted Amelia, furious.

"Sure, we are simple people without any type of power," said another girl. She had well-kept brown hair and looked frightened.

"I am very scared, I don't like to fight," said the third youth, smaller and with Asian features.

James, for his part, felt the air leave his lungs. The memory of blood on the floor of Asmalia burned his eyes. His legs trembled, a reaction of terror he could not suppress. Face the Zarion? It was a paralyzing thought.

"Shut up everyone!"

Silence returned. Everyone stayed petrified. The boy who had spoken was Axel. He was the biggest of all (he was fourteen years old), with dark black hair and a piercing gaze.

"Let's not rush to hasty conclusions," said Axel, with surprising maturity. "Let Galen finish speaking. Please, continue."

Galen nodded. "Thank you very much, Axel. As I was saying... Right now you are no rivals. But we have a strategy."

Galen raised his hands. A circle of energy of a deep purple began to form. It was not explosive, but a constant pulse that filled the air with a vibrant hum.

All the youths, including Amelia and the silent Axel, felt a strange energy traverse their bodies, like an icy discharge followed by an interior fire.

James felt an unusual warmth in his right arm, as if a tiny star ignited beneath his skin. The warmth grew, until a luminous mark with the shape of a lightning bolt was drawn on his skin, shining with an intense yellow brilliance.

Galen smiled, lowering his hands slowly as the glow of the marks settled.

"What are these things?" asked Amelia, astonished, looking at the mark that now adorned her forearm.

"Spiritual Manifestation," explained Galen. "It will allow you to acquire powers. A long time ago, the Erion existed. Legendary warriors who protected the realm, even from the Zarion. But they disappeared."

Galen looked at the marks with a mixture of respect and hope.

"You have inherited their powers. You are the new generation of Erion that will protect the realm."

"Are you sure about what you're saying, old man?" asked the blond boy, doubt still palpable in his voice.

"I still don't think some simple marks will give us powers," added the frightened girl.

Galen, noticing James's confusion, touched his shoulder firmly.

"Calm down. Everything will be fine now."

The mixed-race boy, Chard, who seemed to be the most relaxed, asked: "What should we do now?"

"Now comes the second step: controlling your powers. However..." He made a brief pause. "We will do that tomorrow. Now you will rest. You have had a very intense day."

"Where will we sleep?" asked Axel.

"Follow me."

James ended up sharing a room with Chard. Upon entering, he let himself fall onto his bed, head down, the expression depressing.

"What's wrong with you, friend?" asked Chard, sitting on the opposite bed.

"Nothing, I'm fine," answered James, his voice muted.

"That's not what I see," said Chard calmly. "I could swear you were about to cry. Tell me something: Did you lose a loved one?"

James startled, lifting his head abruptly.

"How do you know?"

Chard approached to sit by his side.

"Don't think you are the one. I also lost someone valuable. I hate those Zarion with the same intensity as you."

"But..." James hesitated. "You were very calm. I didn't think you also..."

Chard turned his gaze toward the wall.

"That's right. Maybe I don't show it, but I also have feelings, you know?" A tiny tear slid down his mixed-race cheek, which he wiped with a quick movement. "I never stop thinking about that day."

He hit his knee with his fist. There was a silence loaded with intense shared sadness.

"Well," Chard tried to change the topic. "I think it's time to rest. Tomorrow will be another day."

James nodded.

That night, under a starry sky and a dense air, two silhouettes were found at the outskirts of the base, far from curious gazes.

"What do you want to talk about? We must prepare for tomorrow's training," asked Galen.

The other subject was tall, wore a blue kimono and a long sharp sword at his waist. His hair was long and of an unusual green tone. Kael.

"Are you sure about that kid? Giving him that power?"

"You refer to James? What's the problem?"

Kael frowned, and his eyes, as sharp as the blade he carried at his waist, narrowed toward Galen.

"There's something in that kid, Galen. An energy too volatile. A Lightning Mark with that yellow brilliance... Are you sure he will be able to control it?"

Galen sighed, concern appearing on his weathered face.

"I know what I'm doing, Kael. I trust that James will achieve it."

Kael hesitated, the hand over the hilt of his sword.

"Trust will not protect him if it gets out of control. An energy like that could destroy him and..." Kael's voice turned grave. "You are not the only one carrying the weight of this. If he fails, the entire Refuge City will pay the consequences."

The swordsman, still incredulous, withdrew in silence after those words. Galen stayed alone, observing the darkness, with the weight of the destiny of the Refuge City over his shoulders.