In an isolated village, nestled on a remote island of a vast continent, evenings were filled with the tales of an elderly lady, whose exceptional longevity and life experiences enriched her captivating tales. On an evening when the crackling of the fire animated the fireplace, she began the singular story of an aerolith with a group of children. At first, it was just an ordinary celestial fragment drifting in the immensity of space. This aerolith was distinguished by its own will, this force guiding it through the worlds in search of those whose ardent hearts were ready to embrace the role of savior.

The old lady asked the children to listen. Her eyes sparkled with unfathomable mystery as she explained that this aerolite, nicknamed the Wandering Star, criss-crossed the universes, drawn by the glow of heroic souls. It never stopped, except when it came across a soul worthy of its journey, taking it along on its odyssey to save the endangered worlds the Wandering Star had trodden with its space dust.

A child, driven by curiosity, asked the old lady if it was possible that this aerolith had once led a group of heroes who had once saved the world. The old lady offered a simple, enigmatic smile in reply, then added that it was time to go home, as their parents must be worried. The children set off, away from her home overlooking the peaceful village.

On the way, two of them continued to talk about the story. One of them noticed an unusual glow emanating from Sidera, a tiny island reputed to be uninhabited, home to the remains of an ancient temple dedicated to heaven.

"See that light over there? What is it?" he asked.

"It's probably a reflection of the moon. Nobody lives there, according to the adults," replied the other child.

"If you say so... I'll leave you to it, I'm so hungry! See you tomorrow!"

They parted, leaving the mysterious light behind them. On the island of Sidera, the ruined temple, once a sanctuary of celestial knowledge, still bore the marks of time. The columns, though corroded, seemed to support the sky they had once studied. The frescoes, now tarnished, described the constellations and lunar cycles, vestiges of a bygone knowledge. The altar, overgrown with moss, still echoed with prayers and prophecies, while the wind whistled through the broken arches.

Two hooded men, one with a long beard, entered the remains and approached the altar, where a shadowy figure awaited them. Unsurprisingly, they removed their cloaks, revealing black religious finery, adorned with ancient jewels and gold. They circled the altar and questioned the cloaked presence about the number of artifacts remaining. Without a word, four statuettes floated up to the altar.

Each embodied a fantastic myth: the first depicted an angel holding a dazzling sun, the second a great white bird with rainbow-like feathers. The third statuette represented a snake with scales as lustrous as diamonds, abundantly capturing and reverberating moonlight. The last was a divine warrior, fighting on a cloud, ready to unleash his thunderbolts on his opponents.

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After a moment's silence, one of the sages turned to the shadow.

"So we're resolved to use Primis' last four artifacts? There will be no turning back," declared the bearded sage.

"Don't be alarmed, there's no other alternative. The aerolith won't have the capacity for another journey after this one, so it's imperative to use all the artifacts now," replied the shadow with quiet assurance.

"Understood," nodded the sage. He turned to his colleague on the other side of the modest altar, and the two men joined hands before incanting a formula in an ancestral language. The altar began to radiate, gradually increasing in intensity as the two sages extended their arms towards it. An immense magic circle enveloped them in its light.

"Gaspard, stand back," the shadow ordered the younger of the two. The man obeyed and stepped back two paces, away from the circle that shone brighter and brighter, trapping the other sage inside with the altar.

"Wandering Star, may you find four pure souls, necessary for the rebirth of this world and worthy of these powers inherited from our Saint," pronounced the sage before the circle metamorphosed into a huge luminous globe encompassing the altar. Suddenly, the circle contracted forcefully, giving rise to an immense beam of light that rose skyward before gradually fading. The young sage reopened his eyes, dazzled by the brilliance, and held back his tears, for all that remained of the old man were his clothes, as if he had evaporated with the statuettes. A new aerolith had been born.

"Your mission will be to find the four souls chosen by the Wandering Star upon their arrival and assemble them at Auroria Castle," said the shadow before dissipating. The man collapsed to his knees, catching his breath as the pressure he'd been feeling suddenly vanished. On the neighboring island, no one had witnessed this phenomenon, despite the exceptional brilliance emanating from the aerolith's invocation. However, the old woman had perceived it and was watching Sidera in the distance.

"So then, it's all ready to go again.... "she murmured.

In the immensity of space, the aerolith split the cosmic veil at a speed defying all human conception. Its trajectory was set ineluctably towards Earth. As it approached the Earth's atmosphere, a transformation took place. Responding to an ancestral call, the aerolith split into four distinct fragments. Each shone with a predestined glow, as if animated by a will of its own, an essence driving it towards its destiny.

These four pieces, now entities in their own right, plunged towards Earth, each targeting a cardinal point where a hero in the making resided. North, South, East and West were all soon to be touched by the impact of these celestial messengers.

The first shard of the aerolith crossed the icy sky and landed on a young boy in Canada. Alone in the white immensity of a cemetery, he cleared the snow from the graves. The second fragment, guided by the warmth of the sands, headed for Egypt, where it met a young girl running, her bare feet kicking up clouds of dust as she seemed to escape danger.

The third, defying the darkness of night, chose France for his fall. He found a boy kneeling in the narrowness of a dark alley, his face full of tears, as if the whole world weighed on his shoulders. Finally, the fourth headed for South Korea. He reached a young man praying in front of a temple.

All four were struck by the fragments of the aerolite, each enveloped in a sudden, isolated glow, invisible to the eyes of the world. Their skin was caressed by the celestial light, leaving a mark on their right hand. And in a brief instant, similar to the launch of the aerolite on Sidera, the pieces, now united with their protégés, rose into the heavens, embarking on a stellar journey back across the worlds. Thus began the story of these four legends, unaware of the epic that awaited them, propelled into an adventure that would shape their lives and that of history itself.

End of Chapter 1.