Ale's journey: The rise of an adventurer

Ale stood still, his sword still pointed at the spot where Nyxion had been moments earlier. He struggled to believe what he had just accomplished, his breath still heavy, and his muscles tense after so many battles. Nyxion's human form slowly evaporated into the air, leaving behind a heavy silence.

"Congratulations, Ale," the phoenix's voice echoed in the room. "You are free now."

Ale finally lowered his weapon, staring at the ground where Nyxion had stood. He raised his head towards the phoenix. "How can I ever thank you?" he asked, still shaken by everything that had just happened.

Nyxion, with an almost unsettling calm, replied: "Kill me."

"What?!" Ale stepped back, startled. "I… I don't understand?"

The phoenix continued, his voice calm yet filled with wisdom: "Kill me, and I will be reborn from my ashes. All I ask is that you protect my egg until I hatch."

Ale remained silent for a moment, processing Nyxion's words. He finally nodded, understanding the gravity of the task he had been entrusted with. "I will protect you with my life," he promised with determination.

Satisfied, Nyxion spoke once more. "I have one final gift for you. Bathe in my blood, and you will be blessed with resurrection after a fatal blow."

Ale nodded, aware of the weight of this blessing. "I'm ready," he said, gripping his sword firmly.

Nyxion bowed slightly, his dark aura shimmering around him. "Are you ready, Ale? I am."

Ale nodded once more. He approached the phoenix, his heart heavy but his hand steady. With a precise and unhesitating motion, he drove his sword through Nyxion's heart. Immediately, a stream of black blood erupted, flooding over Ale and covering him from head to toe.

Ale felt a new force joining with his own. Nyxion's blood bathed his entire body, and he could feel the blessing taking hold. A dark yet powerful energy pulsed through his veins, anchoring the promise of resurrection within him.

Nyxion's body slowly collapsed to the ground, his blood bubbling before igniting into black flames. Slowly, the flames consumed the phoenix's body, reducing it to ashes. In the midst of the smoldering ashes, a soft yet radiant glow appeared.

Ale approached, his gaze fixed on what remained of Nyxion. At the heart of the ashes lay an egg, glowing with a mysterious aura. This was Nyxion's egg, a symbol of his rebirth.

Ale murmured an incantation, and with newfound confidence, he summoned the space-time magic he now mastered thanks to Nyxion. The spell formed quickly around him, creating an invisible yet impenetrable barrier. He carefully took the phoenix egg in his hands and gently placed it within this secure space. As long as Ale lived, this place would remain a safe haven, impervious to danger.

Without pausing to rest, his mind still alert, Ale rushed toward the exit. What once seemed an insurmountable obstacle now felt simple. The monsters that had once filled him with terror were now mere hindrances. With a single motion, Ale dispatched them effortlessly, his magic now a natural extension of himself.

Before long, he reached the spot where he had first fallen into the abyss. The chasm that had once seemed eternal no longer intimidated him. With surprising ease, he leaped from wall to wall, soaring in a fluid dance, ascending to the surface effortlessly, even without resorting to magic.

Ale finally emerged to the surface. The sun shone brilliantly in an azure sky, flooding the world with its radiant light. It had been so long since he had seen daylight. The gentle warmth of the sun on his face, the pure air he breathed deeply into his lungs—he had missed it all terribly.

The landscape was covered with a thick layer of pristine snow. Yet he remembered leaving his village in the spring. Had it been ten months since he departed? Or perhaps more? It didn't matter anymore. One thought consumed him: to return home, to see his house again, to find his grandfather.

Without wasting a moment, Ale set off. The journey was swift, and soon he reached the place where his village once stood. But what he discovered left him speechless. Everything was in ruins and debris. The snow covered most of the remnants, but here and there, limbs protruded—grim reminders of past horrors. The village, once filled with joy and peace, was now an open-air cemetery.

Near the spot where his grandfather had perished, he recognized fragments of clothing, pieces of familiar fabric. Among the debris, he found bones. His heart tightened. Carefully, he gathered what was left of his grandfather, determined to give him a proper burial.

With a heavy heart, Ale made his way to what was left of his home. Only a few walls remained standing, surrounded by scattered rubble. He summoned jets of flame to melt the snow, revealing what lay beneath. He searched everywhere, revealing what lay beneath.

He searched carefully, desperately looking for any precious memories. His hands suddenly brushed against something familiar—his grandfather's coat. It was a long, thick coat, worn by time but still sturdy. Ale held it close, a wave of emotion crashing over him. This coat, which had often wrapped around his grandfather, would now shield him from the biting cold of winter. He put it on, not just for warmth, but to keep a piece of his grandfather with him.

As he sifted through the remains, he also found scattered objects among the debris. One, in particular, was an artifact he recognized: the Solisphere, a small magical glass orb that his grandfather had often used to tell time. Nearby were other magical tools and utilitarian items—remnants of a life filled with travel and adventure.

Suddenly, something gleaming in the sunlight caught his eye. Intrigued, he bent down and carefully unearthed the object. It was a medal shaped like a star, still shining despite the time spent buried in the rubble. On the front was a symbol of the Empire, engraved with remarkable precision. He turned it over and read the name inscribed on the back: "Valen Ardyn."

"Valen Ardyn..." Ale murmured, repeating the name without understanding its significance. Who was this person? Why did his grandfather possess this medal? A multitude of questions swirled in his mind, adding to the torment already within him.

Ale walked through the ruined village, his heart heavy and his mind clouded by sorrow. Each step he took on the snow creaked under his boots, the oppressive silence broken only by the icy wind blowing between the destroyed houses. Memories of his childhood flooded back: the laughter of children playing in the streets, lively conversations in the market square, the smell of fresh bread coming from the baker's oven. All of that was now a distant echo.

Determined to honor those who had shared his life, Ale undertook the painful task of gathering the remains of the villagers. He dug individual graves for each of them, using his magic to ease the work. The earth spells he now mastered allowed him to move the frozen ground with newfound ease.

For days, perhaps weeks, he labored tirelessly. Each body he found was a new wound to his already broken heart. He remembered every face, every name. He murmured prayers for each one, thanking them for the moments shared, the lessons learned, the love received.

Among the nearly five hundred people he buried was his grandfather. As he gently placed the bones into the grave, Ale felt tears streaming down his cheeks. He remained silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the ground. Finally, he whispered:

"Goodbye, Grandfather. Thank you for everything you gave me. I promise to continue our mission."

After completing his task, Ale stood in the middle of the improvised cemetery. The graves, carefully aligned, were marked by simple stones on which he had engraved the names of the departed. The wind picked up, carrying with it the snow that began to softly cover the village, like a white veil offering a semblance of peace.