Elio's POV

The Imperial Academy wasn't anything like I'd imagined. No grand ceremonies, no immediate respect—just brutal training from dawn until dusk.

"Hero candidate or not, you're nothing until you prove yourself," Instructor Marven would say before knocking me to the ground for the tenth time that morning.

I wrote to Neri every week, filling pages with stories about my training, the people I was meeting, the magic I was learning to harness. His replies came less frequently as the months passed, growing shorter each time.

I'm happy for you, he'd write. The village is the same as always.

I missed him terribly. Missed our easy conversations, the way he could read my thoughts before I'd formed them, the safety of having someone who knew every part of me—good and bad—and stayed anyway.

The Academy was full of people who wanted something from me. The instructors wanted results. The other candidates wanted to surpass me. The Empire wanted a savior.

Nobody just wanted me.

"Focus, Candidate Elio!" Magister Serrala's voice snapped me back to reality. "The light element responds to clarity of purpose."

I concentrated again on the orb floating before me, willing it to absorb the sunlight streaming through the high windows. It pulsed brighter, pulling in light until the room dimmed noticeably.

"Better," she said, though her perpetual frown never softened. "But still lacking conviction."

Conviction wasn't my problem. I had plenty of that. What I lacked was understanding. Why me? What made the crystal respond to me that day? The question haunted me through countless lessons, through combat training, through history lectures about the ancient pact between humans and celestials that kept demons at bay—a pact now fraying at the edges.

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Then came the day of the Final Selection. Fifty candidates had been narrowed down to twelve, and now only one would be named the Empire's Hero.

We stood in a circle around an ancient altar within the Academy's deepest chamber. The Emperor himself was present, along with the High Celestial Envoy—a being of pure light barely contained in humanoid form.

"Today, the Celestial Pact will choose its champion," the Emperor announced. "Step forward, candidates, and present your hearts to judgment."

One by one, we approached the altar, placing our hands on its surface. For most, nothing happened. Some caused a brief flicker of light. When my turn came, I hesitated.

I wish you were here, Neri, I thought. You'd know what to say to make this less terrifying.

I placed my hands on the cold stone.

The room exploded with light. The altar cracked beneath my fingers, and power surged through me like lightning. I heard voices—thousands of them—whispering ancient promises, bestowing knowledge I couldn't comprehend.

When I could see again, everyone in the chamber was kneeling, including the Emperor.

"The Hero has been chosen," the Celestial Envoy announced, its voice like music. "Elio of Timbervale shall bear the Mark of the Pact and lead us against the coming darkness."

That night, alone in my new chambers—no longer a dormitory but private quarters befitting my status—I traced the glowing sigil now permanently etched into my palm. The Mark of the Pact.

Three figures entered without knocking: a tall woman with a sword at her hip, a serene-looking man in white robes, and a sharp-eyed woman with countless small pouches hanging from her belt.

"Your core team, Hero Elio," said Instructor Marven, who had escorted them. "Knight-Captain Lyra, Saint Therion, and Imperial Mage Kestra. They will fight at your side, guard your life with theirs, and ensure you fulfill the prophecy."

They bowed formally, but I could see the assessment in their eyes. Was I worthy of their loyalty? Their sacrifice?

I thought of Neri then, who had never once questioned my worth, who had given his friendship freely without conditions or expectations.

As my new companions began discussing strategy and training schedules, I slipped away to my writing desk and began a new letter.

Dear Neri,

Everything has changed. I've been named the Empire's Hero, whatever that means. They've given me a team of the Empire's finest, but what I really need is my best friend. I've requested permission to visit Timbervale. I want you to see all this, to be part of it somehow.

I miss having someone I can just be myself with.

Your friend always, Elio

I didn't know then how long it would be before I saw Timbervale again, or that when I finally returned, Neri would be both exactly the same and completely transformed.

I also didn't know that my letter would never reach him.