The early morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the training hall, casting pale beams across the wooden floorboards. Aevion sat cross-legged on the polished floor, the faint scent of cherry blossoms drifting in from the garden outside. His long silver hair shimmered softly in the light, and his purple eyes — sharp yet contemplative — stared at the tip of the sword resting in his lap.
For years, he had trained silently, honing his skill and understanding of swordsmanship. Yet, despite all his efforts, a void lingered within — the absence of his true power.
Today, he had promised himself, that would change.
The first class on Nexis was still vivid in his memory. The professor's words echoed in his mind:
> "Nexis is more than just power. It is the essence that defines your path, your role in this world. Your 'True Crest' — your unique purpose. Awakening it is no mere ritual, but a rebirth."
Aevion tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. The polished steel felt cold, almost indifferent. But he could feel something beneath the surface — an echo of the power dormant within him.
He closed his eyes, letting his breath slow, steadying his heart.
The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle pulse within his chest.
A soft glow began to emanate from his palms, faint and trembling like the first flicker of dawn. Slowly, it intensified, swirling around him in an ethereal dance of purple and white light.
"Nellum..." Aevion whispered, recalling the name he had given his Nexis. A name that felt pure and serene, yet sharp and unwavering, much like himself.
His Nexis — a beacon of light and shadow, woven into one.
The purple shimmered like twilight, filled with mystery and depth. The white burned bright like the first snow of winter, pristine and untouchable.
He opened his eyes.
The light had spread, enveloping his entire form, and then surged outward like a silent storm.
His sword, once ordinary, now glowed with a similar hue, its edge humming softly.
Aevion's breathing grew shallow. This was the awakening — a moment he'd waited six years for.
Power — real, tangible power — was finally his again.
He rose slowly, feeling the weight and yet the lightness of the newfound strength coursing through him.
It was not overwhelming. It was... balanced. Controlled. His true self, manifested.
Aevion looked at the floor beneath him and then his sword. The stance he had used so far — Veilbreaker — no longer felt right. It had been a placeholder, a name born of youthful ambition.
He smiled faintly, the hint of a secret forming behind his purple eyes.
"From now on," he murmured, "Veilbreaker will be known as Nellum's Embrace."
The new name felt perfect — a silent vow and a promise. His sword wasn't just a weapon; it was an extension of his Nexis, a living symbol of his will.
Later that afternoon, Aevion found himself in the academy's sprawling courtyard, sunlight dappling the grass in golden patches. The scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the distant chatter of students.
As he practiced his sword forms, every movement resonated with the rhythm of Nellum, smooth yet fierce.
The air seemed to hum around him, subtle vibrations that only he could sense.
Suddenly, a soft voice called from behind.
"Your sword... it's unlike anything I've seen before."
He turned to see a girl no taller than 5'6", with delicate features framed by flowing white and pink hair that caught the light like rose petals. Her eyes were large and bright, a deep sapphire blue that held curiosity and warmth.
Aevion nodded, sheathing his sword.
"I'm Aevion," he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of confidence.
She smiled gently. "I'm Mira."
Mira. The name felt like a soft melody, fitting perfectly with her graceful presence.
For the next hour, they talked — first about the basics, then their dreams and struggles. Mira was honest and open, and unlike many, didn't treat him with suspicion or awe.
They were just two students sharing a moment in a vast world.
As the sun dipped lower, Mira's expression shifted to one of interest.
"You named your stance Nellum's Embrace, right? It suits you."
Aevion's lips curved into a rare smile.
"It felt... right. The old name was just a placeholder."
They stood in companionable silence for a moment before Mira spoke again.
"If you ever want to train together, I'm not bad with a sword myself."
He nodded. "I'd like that."
That evening, under the silver glow of the moon, Aevion lay awake in his dorm room. The awakening had changed him, yet the path ahead was still long.
He ran a hand through his hair, thoughts racing.
This power is mine again, but how far can it take me?
His gaze drifted to the faint shimmer outside the window — a distant star flickering with endless potential.
He knew this was only the beginning.
Sword Technique Introduced: Nellum's Embrace
A defensive-offensive stance that flows like a living wave. It combines rapid strikes with graceful parries, using fluid movements that confuse opponents and exploit openings. Named after Aevion's Nexis, it is a reflection of balance — light and shadow united in deadly harmony.
The wind rustled the leaves in slow, dreamlike patterns. The sky was washed in pale lavender, barely hinting at the sun's descent. The training grounds behind the Academy were nearly empty, save for one.
Aevion stood alone.
His long silver hair danced softly as he stared at the sword in his hand—an ordinary blade by design, but under his grip, it felt like something more. Not because of the craftsmanship, but because of the weight of expectation, of memory.
Of purpose.
He inhaled slowly. Exhaled.
Aevion raised the sword.
He began to swing—not with power, but with silence. Each motion glided through the air, no flourish, no extravagance. His hands moved with an unnatural grace, and the sword carved through the empty wind like a whisper rather than a weapon.
"Nellum's Embrace…"
He spoke it as if speaking the name of someone long lost, long buried. The name wasn't just for the stance. It was for the sorrow that lingered in his soul.
This stance was his.
Not inherited.
Not taught.
Born from solitude.
The first swing carried elegance.
The second, restraint.
The third... trembled with something deeper.
Suddenly, a pulse erupted from his chest—gentle, radiant. Aevion gasped as his vision briefly shimmered in violet and white. His Nexis, dormant until now, flared like a tidal wave contained in a glass heart. Energy surged from within, responding to his motion.
The sword in his grip began to glow. Not with fire. Not with light.
But with presence.
A veil of Nexis ran down the blade, pure purple and white, fluid as smoke, divine as starlight.
He brought the blade downward.
Not fast.
Not with rage.
Just stillness.
And it happened.
The air split. The tree before him—a wide, sturdy oak—was cleaved perfectly in two. From base to crown, a flawless, noiseless cut. The halves didn't even fall right away; they paused, as if reality was trying to comprehend what had just occurred, before they toppled in unison with a dull, soft thud.
Silence returned.
His blade was lowered. His arms trembled—but not from fear.
From awakening.
The wind grew calm again. But something within Aevion had changed forever.
Behind him, a soft clap echoed. One. Two.
He turned.
It was Mira.
Her long hair glistened faintly in the dying light, catching pale shades of pink that danced against the sky.
"That…" she said, approaching with steady steps, "wasn't just a sword swing."
"No," Aevion replied.
"I saw your Nexis," she whispered, tilting her head. "Purple and white… I've never seen that color before."
He looked at her. Her voice wasn't filled with awe—it was quiet, maybe even a little uncertain.
"You weren't supposed to be watching," he said with a slight, tired smile.
"I wasn't watching," she shrugged. "I was just… passing by."
Their eyes met. No tension. Just a shared, quiet moment.
"…Is that your own style?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's called Nellum's Embrace."
"That's a strange name."
"Maybe. But it means something to me."
She didn't press further. Instead, she looked at the cleaved tree.
"You planning on cutting the whole forest next?"
Aevion smiled again, small and rare. "Just that one."
There was a pause.
Mira sat down on a nearby bench, motioning slightly with her eyes.
He joined her, placing the blade gently beside him.
A cool breeze swept across the courtyard. Aevion's gaze remained forward, but he could feel her watching him.
"You're different," she finally said.
"You don't know me."
"Exactly. That's what makes you different."
He turned toward her now.
"You don't talk much," she added. "But when you swing that sword, it feels like you're telling a story."
He blinked, almost startled by how clearly she put it.
"Maybe I am," he said softly.
Mira looked away now, pretending to watch the setting sun. Her voice grew more distant, gentler. "People at this academy… they swing swords like they're trying to prove something. You swing yours like you're trying to remember something."
Aevion's heart stirred at her words, but he didn't show it.
He stood again. "I need to keep training."
Mira looked up, raising a brow. "Even after that?"
"There's always another tree," he said.
She smiled. "You're a strange one, Aevion."
He picked up his sword again.
She didn't follow him this time.
But before he disappeared from view, her voice rang out once more.
"Hey."
He turned.
"…Nellum's Embrace… what does it really mean?"
Aevion paused. Thought. Answered without looking back.
"It means peace… after ruin."
Then he vanished behind the treeline