There were places on the continent of Arvala where gods had once walked. Or so the old scrolls said. Most people laughed at the idea—just stories, fairy tales passed down by firelight. But Negi never laughed at them.
He believed.
Now, standing alone at the edge of the academy grounds, staring into the mist-drenched trees of the Forest of the Holy Beast, Negi felt that belief thrum in his chest like a second heartbeat. He took a breath, steady and deliberate, and stepped forward.
Behind him, footsteps stumbled through the underbrush.
"Negi!" a voice called out, breathless. "Hey—wait up!"
Roon, his younger brother, appeared in a rush. His uniform was a mess, one boot half-tied, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. He looked every bit the troublemaker who'd just sprinted across the academy to catch up.
"You said dawn!" Roon huffed, falling in beside him. "It's barely even light out!"
Negi didn't slow. "You took too long."
"You always do this. Say one thing, then vanish like you're in a storybook." Roon groaned. "What if the instructors find out we're out here again? We'll be scrubbing floors till next moon cycle."
"Then stop getting caught," Negi replied with a faint smirk.
Roon rolled his eyes but followed.
---
The Forest of the Holy Beast was strange this early. Silent. As if the trees themselves were holding their breath. Students came here often for training, to fight or tame low-grade beasts, sometimes hoping to bond with one. It was a rite of passage at the academy.
But that wasn't why they were here.
Negi walked like he knew exactly where he was going, even though no visible path marked the way. Roon jogged to keep up.
"You're not heading to the usual dens," Roon said, glancing around. "This doesn't look familiar."
"It's not," Negi answered.
Roon frowned. "Wait… this is about Father, isn't it? You found the place he mentioned. The cave."
Negi didn't answer right away. His voice was quiet when it came. "Do you remember what he told us, the night before he left?"
"Yeah," Roon said. "He said... the gods aren't real. They're just people who were remembered."
Negi gave a small nod. "He also said some paths don't wait to be found. They call to you. And if you ignore the call... you'll regret it."
A silence passed between them.
Then Negi pushed through a curtain of vines.
Beneath them, carved into the roots of the mountain itself, was a broken stone path spiraling downward. Mist curled from the entrance like breath from a sleeping beast.
The Cave of Divine Ash.
---
The moment they stepped inside, everything changed.
The air was thick, heavy like they were underwater. The ground beneath their feet pulsed faintly, almost like it was alive. Light was nonexistent, yet something faint glowed in the walls—a dim, cold shimmer like stars behind smoke.
Roon shivered. "This place feels wrong. Like it's watching us."
"It is," Negi said, voice distant.
They walked in silence for what felt like forever. Then, the path split.
One side sloped left, narrow and sharp with jagged obsidian walls. The other opened wide, descending deep into heat and shadow.
Negi stopped. "This is where we split up."
Roon froze. "What? No, that's stupid. If something happens—"
"We won't find what we're meant to together," Negi interrupted. "The cave knows us. It knows we're different. We have to go alone."
Roon looked at him, hesitant. "Are you sure?"
Negi nodded. "You're stronger than you think."
After a long pause, Roon muttered, "Fine. But if you die, I'm telling Mother."
Negi actually smiled. "Deal."
They bumped fists. Then Roon took the left path, disappearing into the dark.
---
Negi's path breathed.
Each step stirred the air, like something enormous had just passed through. The cave pulsed faintly with violet light. Whispers brushed against his ears—not words, just feelings. Weight. Memory.
Eventually, he reached a wide, silent chamber.
And there, across the space, stood... himself.
Negi blinked. The reflection stared back with his own face, but the eyes were colder, sharper.
"You wear silence like a crown," the copy said. "But it's not strength. It's a cage."
Negi clenched his jaw.
"Do you want power? Or just not to feel weak anymore?"
Negi stepped forward. "I don't want power for me. I want to protect those who can't fight for themselves."
The reflection studied him.
Then dissolved into smoke.
From that smoke, something ancient awakened.
The dragon.
It unfurled from the walls, its obsidian scales catching light that wasn't there. Wings of shadow. Eyes like dying stars. Its body filled the space, coiled like a serpent of the void.
It looked at him. Through him.
> "Most who come here want strength."
> "You ask for burden."
> "Are you ready to be consumed by it?"
Negi's voice didn't shake. "Yes."
The dragon lowered its head. Memory flooded into him—images of fire, of war, of cities turned to ash. His father's final steps. A legacy buried in flame.
Negi dropped to one knee, chest heaving. But he did not collapse.
The dragon's gaze softened.
> "You don't have the energy yet to give me form."
> "So this... will be our last talk, for now."
Negi's fists clenched. "Why? Why appear now?"
> "Because you must know. About yourself. Your family. The danger that comes."
> "You are the last piece of something broken. And the storm is coming back."
Negi's breath caught. "What danger? What do you mean by broken? What do I—"
The dragon's eyes glowed one last time.
> "I will not fail this time."
And then it vanished.
No sound. No roar.
Only silence.
Negi stood alone, a spiral of scorched stone beneath his feet. His chest burned faintly, as if something unseen had marked him.
The weight was gone.
But something else had begun.
Far above, the wind howled through the forest.
And fate turned its eyes toward him.