In the beginning, before stars breathed light into the void and the galaxies unfolded like silk in the wind, there was one presence a solitary being cradled in the silence of eternity. That being was Archon Aetherious Winderzon Infernum, the first soul. The creator. The balance. The axis of time and the heart of fate.
She did not begin in chaos nor rise from conflict. She simply was a thought that turned into light, a whisper that bore existence. And from his breath, the multiverse was born.
Yet even gods, no matter how eternal, are not free from the wheel of fate. Even the highest light must one day break to begin again.
In a realm untouched by time, beneath skies made of memory and stars that shimmered with stories yet unwritten, Archon stood with the one presence greater than herself her mother. She was draped in silver threads, each strand woven from a moment in time, a memory of a thousand lifetimes. Her eyes gleamed not only with wisdom, but with the ache of motherhood.
"Mom," Archon began, her voice deep and resonant, like the soft toll of a bell at the edge of time.
"Are you sure you're ready for what comes next?"
The divine mother turned to him, her expression tender. "Are you sure?"
She nodded, and for the first time in eons, a faint shadow of sorrow crossed her divine face.
"Yes… I must be reborn. With Zeno, Zarek, and my wives, my soul's reflections. I must walk as mortal once more not as Archon, but as a child. A child who forgets. Who bleeds. Who weeps. Because this is not just about creation. This is about becoming."
The stars overhead dimmed as if they, too, were holding their breath.
"I've chosen the place," he continued. "My soul will take root on Earth… in the womb of my great-grandson, Aizikiel. His wife, Hera, shall birth me under the shadow of royal light. But I cannot stay long. A guardian shall take me a servant of destiny. And I will be brought… to the most broken corner of the world."
Her voice trembled, though he stood strong. "A slum in the Philippines. A place forgotten by the rich and the righteous. I will be placed in a box beside the trash. And there, I will cry for the first time as Yasiel Lyzer Zalvian."
The goddess-mother drew a sharp breath, her hands clutching the folds of her gown. "The trash, my child?"
"I choose to begin in nothing," Archon replied. "Only then can I rise into everything."
She stepped closer, cradling her face with trembling fingers.
"You will forget me," she whispered, tears lining her immortal lashes. "You will not remember your throne, your wives, your name…"
"I know," she said gently. "But I have a request."
She placed her hand over his heart.
"When I fall into that new world, I want you to be the one who finds me. Take human form. Become Auntie Erich. Let me grow not under royal skies, but under rusted roofs and cracked walls. Let me learn love in its hardest form. Let me fight for peace without knowing I was once the maker of stars."
"Even if it breaks you?" she asked, her voice shaking.
She smiled softly. "Because it will break you, Mom. To see me hungry. Weary. Rejected. You'll want to scream my name to the heavens but you mustn't. Not until the time is right."
"And your name?" she asked again, as if wanting to hear it echo in her soul.
"Yasiel Lyzer Zalvian," he said, the syllables glowing with promise. "A name born of ash and flame. Carrying both the wrath of Infernum and the grace of Winderzon. A child of balance. Of light and shadow."
Silence passed between them like a sacred hymn.
"And if you suffer?" she asked. "If you break so deeply you forget why you began?"
She closed her eyes. "Then let me break. Let me feel every inch of this mortal coil. Only when I touch the bottom will I rise with the strength to lift the world."
The skies above cracked open slightly, revealing threads of futures unknown, timelines that curled and branched endlessly. Archon stepped forward, the glow around him intensifying.
"I wrote it all," she said. "Even if I forget, the path will call me. The stars will whisper. And I will find my way."
"Will I see you again?" she asked, her voice barely a breath.
"In the slums, you will find me as a child… with red hair and red eyes, marked by a dragon on my back. And in your heart, you will know."
The cosmic wind picked up, surrounding Archon with a shimmering spiral of stardust. The moment was nearing. Rebirth was coming.
Ahe turned one last time, golden eyes glowing with the last light of her divine self.
"Tell my three wives… we will meet again. In the third life. In different forms. In a world that is cruel but worth saving. And our love will find its way back. Because what is true will always return."
Then, with a pulse of celestial light, Archon vanished.
And across time and galaxies, the divine seed of his soul traveled—
—until it reached a battered planet, in a nation clinging to hope.
In a dark alley near a rusting dumpster, under the indifferent gaze of the moon, the cry of a newborn pierced the air.
A woman, aged and kind-eyed, bent down and cradled him in her arms. Her name was Erich Zalvian.
And though no memory flickered in her adopted child's eyes, she smiled, holding the boy close to her chest.
"Welcome home," she whispered through her tears.
"You are not a mistake. You are the promise."
And thus began the life of Yasiel Lyzer Zalvian a child of gods, raised in grime, destined to illuminate the world.
Not as a prince.
Not as a god.
But as a person who would earn herdivinity. One tear. One wound. One triumph at a time.
-
PALACE OF ENGLAND – ROYAL BIRTHING CHAMBER
"A-Ahh… I-It's coming! The baby…!" The Queen's voice broke through the thick air, sharp and trembling as she gripped the silk sheets beneath her with desperate hands. Her body arched with pain as wave after wave of contractions overtook her. The warmth in the chamber seemed to vanish, replaced by a sudden, eerie chill as if the palace itself held its breath.
Panic quickly erupted among the attendants.
"Fetch the royal physician! Hurry!" a handmaiden cried, her voice cracking as she shoved open the chamber doors. The once-orderly palace descended into chaos, the echoing rush of footsteps and shouted orders reverberating through the grand halls.
Just in time, the royal physician arrived, the heavy doors opening once more. "Prepare the Queen for labor immediately!" he commanded. He approached the birthing bed with authority, rolling up his sleeves. "Steady, Your Majesty. Deep breaths. You're nearly there…"
Meanwhile, in the grand banquet hall, a servant burst through the corridor, nearly slipping on the polished floor as he rushed toward the king.
"Your Majesty!" he cried breathlessly, bowing quickly. "The Queen she's in labor!"
King Aizikiel froze mid-meal, his hands still resting on a silver goblet. His parents the former monarchs, King Aldebrand and Queen Vaeloria looked up in unison, expressions tightening.
"What? Now?" Aizikiel stood abruptly, pushing his chair aside. "Come! Mother, Father let's go. Quickly."
Together, they raced through the velvet-draped hallways, past gold-framed tapestries and towering stained glass. They arrived just in time to hear a piercing cry the first breath of new life breaking into the world.
"Congratulations, Your Majesties," the physician said, holding the child carefully in his arms. But his voice was laced with something unexpected hesitation.
King Aizikiel stepped forward, his heart racing, eyes wide with anticipation. "Is it a boy? Or a girl?"
The physician glanced down at the child, eyes narrowing with caution and disbelief.
"Your Majesty…" he began slowly. "The child is… intersex. Both male and female traits are present. It's extremely rare, but not an affliction. It's simply who they are."
A stunned silence filled the room.
King Aizikiel staggered back a step, caught between awe and confusion. "Just like me…" he whispered. "They… inherited it…"
Before the weight of the revelation could settle in, the physician continued. "There's more, Your Majesty."
He turned the child gently to reveal their back. Gasps rose around the room.
There, etched like ancient fire into the child's skin, was the mark of a red dragon its wings curled, its eyes glowing faintly, as if breathing. The child's hair shimmered in shades of crimson, and when their eyes fluttered open… they burned like twin rubies.
"A dragon's mark…" King Aldebrand breathed. "The sigil of House Winderzon. The bloodline awakens."
Aizikiel stepped forward, his voice solemn yet proud. "They are the Prince of Light and Shadow. The heir to both the sun and the void. Born not as man or woman but as destiny incarnate."
Queen Hera, tears streaming down her cheeks, nodded with reverence. "A child of balance. A child of prophecy."
"What shall you name them, Your Majesty?" asked the physician gently.
Aizikiel's voice was clear. "Asiel Rezlyver Vaindel Winderzon."
The physician smiled. "A name for a ruler of legends. A name worthy of the gods."
He gently placed the newborn in the arms of a trusted servant. "Clean the child. Let them meet their mother properly."
But fate had already begun to weave its threads.
As the servant bathed the child in the adjoining chamber, a second servant entered. Their face was soft, eyes kind yet an unsettling calm surrounded them.
"I'll take it from here," they said gently. "I was sent to bring the child to the Queen."
The first servant hesitated. But trusting the uniform, the presence, the tone… she handed over the child.
She never saw them again.
"Y-Your Majesty!" a handmaiden cried, bursting into the Queen's chamber, pale with panic. "The prince he's gone! A servant… they took him!"
"WHAT?!" roared Aizikiel, rising to his feet, his voice like thunder. "How could you let this happen?!"
"The guards are pursuing them now, Your Majesty!" the maid stammered. "But—"
Another guard arrived, gasping for air. "She vanished, Your Majesty. Before our very eyes… they disappeared into thin air."
Aizikiel's legs gave out beneath him. He dropped to the edge of the bed beside Queen Hera, who clutched her chest, barely able to breathe through her sobs.
"We didn't even get to hold them for a full hour…"
King Aldebrand stepped forward, placing a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "We will search every corner of every land. I will not rest until my grandchild is found."
"Why, Father?" Aizikiel whispered, broken. "Why would the gods let this happen?"
"Because some fates are written in fire, not in comfort," Aldebrand replied. "Some rulers must be tempered in shadow. All we can do now is pray that they will be raised by hands that do not harm."
And so, within the gilded walls of the kingdom, silence fell. Hope lingered but was distant, like the moon behind thick clouds. The child destined for greatness had vanished.
And destiny was only beginning to stir.
-
UNKNOWN POV
In my arms, I held the infant born between light and shadow. Upon their tender chest pulsed the quiet heartbeat of the Chosen One a being not merely the child of a king and queen, but the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy and the fire of the stars. With every breath, the rhythm of the universe seemed to echo, as though it already recognized this child as the hope of a world long lost to imbalance.
I walked silently through a narrow alley in a barangay in Manila. Around me were rusted rooftops, shattered windows, and walls worn down by time and moss. The air was thick, heavy with the stench of exhaust, humidity, and dry sweat. In the distance, I could hear a dog barking, a baby crying in another home, and the footsteps of people who moved like ghosts of the city alive, but weary.
Here, her story begins.
Not in a palace. Not on a throne. Not in gold. But in a place forgotten by society though not by destiny.
I glanced to the side of the road, where an old trash bin stood rusted, surrounded by broken, discarded things. Beside it was a cardboard box covered with a piece of corrugated iron. I knelt down and gently placed Baby Asiel inside, wrapped in a clean blanket the last trace of her identity as a prince.
Yet even in this environment, her light could not be smothered by dust. In the moonlight, her red hair shimmered with a divine glow. Her skin seemed painted with the sun's touch, and beneath the blanket, etched into her back, was the mark of a red dragon alive, almost breathing.
She remained silent. Asleep. But her face… it seemed to know. As though some part of her soul understood the mission that lay ahead, even while cradled inside a box by the trash.
I knelt again, touched her forehead cold, but radiating a warmth from within.
"Until we meet again… God of Infinity," I whispered, holding back tears.
"You are the light of a new age. The child of heaven and hell. You are Asiel… but one day, the world will know you as Yasiel Lyzer Zalvian."
I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, filled with a promise that neither time nor fate could ever break.
"This is not the end, my beloved Yasiel," I added.
"You will begin in the mud… but you will become the path of change. Someday, you will return not as an infant… but as a god born in human form."
I stood up. For one final moment, I looked at her peacefully sleeping, unaware of the great wheel of destiny already turning around her.
And in the blink of an eye, my form shimmered. The body I wore as a human dissolved into light. I was a shadow of ancient history, and now… merely a guide preparing the way.
I vanished into the wind.
Beneath the lone glow of a flickering streetlamp, Yasiel cried for the first time not out of fear, but from the sorrow of a soul's departure perhaps the first soul who ever loved her.
By the garbage, in the stillness of the night, no one knew…
That the god of the future was already breathing in the world.
And with her first cry, a new chapter began an epic long written in the stars.