Chapter 1

When the Magic Realm was created, its foundations were woven into existence by forces both ancient and unfathomable. The Evergales wove the boundary between the mortal world and the Magic Realm. Seraphina forged a path beyond, unleashing the currents of magic. The Leviathan King and Ignis steadied the breach with ocean and fire.

The delicate balance between realms had always been fragile, yet now it teetered on the edge of chaos. As the forces of magic surged, so too did the tension between those who sought to control it and those who longed for freedom. There were whispers in the winds of untold powers awakening beneath the earth’s surface, calling to those with the courage to listen.

***

"Is this what you call strength? Attacking one person like a pack of weaklings?"

At Lucian Evergale’s biting words, the air around Alena grew heavier, and the children who had been taunting her fell into silence. Their confidence wavered, and, one by one, they averted their gazes, stepping back as uncertainty took hold. Alena turned toward the voice.

Lucian stood tall and unshaken, his presence commanding even among the older students. He exuded an aura of quiet dominance, impossible to ignore. His midnight-blue cloak, embroidered with glowing silver runes, draped over him like the mantle of an ancient power.

His silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, framing ice-blue eyes that gleamed with a chilling sharpness, as if they could pierce through the very fabric of existence. His striking features—strong jawline and high cheekbones—lent him an air of nobility, but it was the unshakable confidence surrounding him that truly left an impression.

Alena, in contrast, possessed a beauty that was ethereal, almost otherworldly, a quiet testament to the elven blood she carried from her mother’s side. Alena’s golden eyes shimmered like dawn’s first light, holding an ancient, knowing glow. Her jet-black hair cascaded weightlessly, catching the faintest glimmers of magic.

Delicate and perfectly sculpted, her features bore the unmistakable touch of elven grace—high cheekbones, a gently sloping nose, and lips that seemed to whisper of forgotten enchantments. There was a soft radiance to her, a quiet glow that lingered in the air around her, as if nature itself responded to her presence.

"He’s... dangerous," Alena thought, unable to tear her gaze away.

Despite his beauty, there was no warmth to Lucian. His very presence demanded recognition. She had noticed him before from afar, but standing so near now, she felt both wary and intrigued.

"He belongs to the ancient noble guardian family," she reminded herself, her eyes drifting toward the figures behind him. These were the famed nobles of Elandria, each with a lineage as powerful as Lucian’s, their expressions unreadable and cold. Their eyes, though mesmerizing, held a warning: to stand against Lucian Evergale was to stand against them all.

As the children finally backed away, Lucian’s lips curved into a smirk—arrogant, yet laced with an undeniable authority. Alena found herself unnerved. For a fleeting moment, their gazes met, and she felt an unspoken challenge between them.

"He’s challenging me," she realized.

Lucian’s piercing gaze seemed to probe into her very being, searching for something hidden beneath the surface. Despite the coldness in his expression, an unfamiliar connection sparked within her. She quickly understood—within the world of magic, her standing would be defined by Lucian Evergale’s regard or his indifference.

That realization unsettled her more than she cared to admit. Power in the Magic Realm was not merely about talent or lineage—it was about recognition. To be acknowledged by someone like Lucian Evergale meant being drawn into a world of prestige, expectation, and silent battles fought with glances and unspoken words.

****

Alena’s family lived deep within the forests of the human world, in an old, crumbling mansion. It was so remote that even from the small highland village, one had to climb far to reach it. Though time had left its mark on the structure, the estate remained a formidable fortress, its walls guarding secrets within.

She had always known she was different from ordinary people.

Because of her magic, she could not attend school or form friendships like the village children. She had accepted this reality.

Her father, Roland, had always warned her to conceal her abilities from outsiders. Only after she swore secrecy did he finally begin taking her beyond their land.

They would blend in with travelers, exploring the village together. Occasionally, Alena played with local children. But her mother, Lisa, never left the estate’s borders.

Lisa spent her days either with her family or tending to the greenhouse. She had an uncanny ability to nurture plants, and only later did Alena realize her mother was not entirely human. Lisa was half-elf, attuned to the spirit of nature yet unable to wield magic herself. Unlike Alena, Lisa could not hear nature’s voices, only sense its presence. Alena only understood this when Roland explained it to her.

Alena often wondered how such a profound connection to nature could exist without the power of magic. It made her question the boundaries between magic and the natural world, and why her mother, so attuned to life, could not hear the whispers Alena could. She marveled at how Lisa, despite her limitations, could cultivate such vibrant life in the greenhouse.

"Lisa can feel it—that’s all. And sometimes, that is more extraordinary than magic itself," her father had said, embracing her. Then, Roland revealed another truth—Lisa could never leave the estate or interact with outsiders.

"For your mother to stay with us, she must remain here. Lisa understands this as well."

Alena finally realized why her father tirelessly reinforced the barriers around their home.

"Isn’t there another way for Mother to be free?"

Roland hesitated before replying.

"If we move to the Magic Realm, she may have that chance."

Without a second thought, Alena exclaimed, "Father! Then let’s go to the Magic Realm! I want to experience its wonders with Mother!"

Roland Alderin’s expression darkened briefly before he spoke, his voice measured.

"To return to the Magic Realm, you must first accomplish something."

Confused, Alena looked up at him. "What do I need to do?"

"You must hear a very special sound in Lisa’s greenhouse."

"A special sound?"

"There is a presence dwelling there. You must learn to listen for its voice."

From that day on, Alena spent hours searching the greenhouse. She was determined to do whatever it took to give her mother the life she deserved.She had studied magic before—keeping a single small flower alive had been one of the hardest spells she had ever mastered, far more exhausting than other enchantments.

But maintaining a barrier around an entire forest?

"Father might be one of the most powerful magicians in the Magic Realm."

The greenhouse was teeming with life. Many plants had been cultivated by their family for generations, while others had been brought from the Magic Realm by Roland.

For a long time, the magical flora remained silent.

Then, when Alena truly listened, they began to sing. Their harmonies resonated through the forest, breathing life into the land so profoundly that even winter could not halt its bloom. Roland fought to contain the overwhelming surge of magic.

Yet among all the flourishing plants, one pot remained barren. If Alena pressed her ear against it, she sometimes caught faint whispers, but the other voices drowned them out. On the day she turned ten, after a full year of searching, the voice finally reached her.

"How much longer do you intend to ignore me?"

Startled, Alena scanned the greenhouse.

"I have been calling out to you every time you walked by. Where have you been looking?"

She glanced down at the unassuming red flowerpot beneath her chin—the one she had always suspected was empty. Leaning in, she murmured, "If you wish to grow, that is something only you can decide. I can only help a little."

"Ha! Do you think I am asking for your help to leave this pot?"

"You belittle growth? Then you still have much to learn."

Irritated, Alena shot back.

"That sly Roland Alderin made the magical plants sing their songs of life, drowning out my voice. I cannot bear this anymore. But if I were to leave now, I would destroy Lisa’s kind friends. If you were not her daughter, I would have ignored you forever."

Despite her curiosity, Alena found the voice’s words too cutting and avoided the greenhouse for days. One day, Lisa noticed.

"Why have you stopped visiting the greenhouse?"

"Because of that red flowerpot. It insulted Father, calling him sly."

Lisa’s expression turned serious.

"Alena, that pot has been in my family for generations. Your father came to the human world searching for it."

Alena ran to Roland. That night, under the full moon, Roland led her to the greenhouse.

"Do as it asks."

Following instructions, she placed her hand in the soil. A sharp sting pricked her fingers.

"Call my name, with the power of your blood."

A name surfaced in her mind—one she had always known.

"Orion."

As she spoke the name, the surrounding air shimmered, and the barren pot began to glow. A single, radiant bud emerged, its petals unfurling slowly under the moonlight.

"Welcome back, Orion," Roland whispered, his voice filled with reverence.

Alena felt a surge of energy, a connection to something ancient and powerful. It was as if the very earth beneath her feet had awakened, responding to the pulse of magic flowing through her.

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