Synopsis / Summary
The Secret Life
For a decade, the elite Blade Dancer Fanny Wertz has woven a delicate web of lies, telling her Knight-brother, Tigreal, that she left for the city to find a job. In truth, she is hiding the extraordinary being she fell in love with: Vale, a powerful Wind Mage from another dimension who looks visibly different from any human. Together, they have raised their son, Clave.
The Hybrid Hero
Named for the keystone that holds all things together, Clave is the living embodiment of his parents' secret. He has inherited Fanny's human agility and warrior instinct, combined with Vale's innate ability to channel and manipulate devastating bursts of wind. To blend into the urban environment and protect his father, Clave has mastered the art of speed, moving so fast that his elemental nature is masked, visible only as a silent blur.
The Breaking Point
But the dual life is beginning to fracture. As Clave's hybrid powers mature, they become harder to hide. When a sinister threat from Vale's dimension, perhaps a cosmic invader or an ancient dark force finally tracks the Wind Mage to this new world, Clave is forced to step out of the shadows. He must use his unique, concealed abilities to defend the secret life his parents built, or risk exposing both the magic and the mystery that make him who he is.
© Carlos L. Ponce
Disclaimer; This is ONLY A FANFIC for this CWebNovel.com CONTEST and NOT RELATED TO THE OFFICIAL MLBB LORE.
CHAPTER ONE: 🌪️🗡️ CLAVE: The Son Of Fanny And Vale
THE VALE
The air in the Wind Fort was always in motion, but that day, it did not merely flow; it raged. Vale, Heir of the Zephyr, stood at the precipice of his tower, the winds wrapping around him like physical extensions of his fury. He was not just a wind mage; he was an elemental force, robed in azure and white, his form shimmering with unspent arcane energy.
He was searching for Valir, his friend, but the arcane readings were unstable, volatile, and unlike anything he had ever tracked. Valir's unique fire signature was being torn through dimensional fabric, creating a chaotic rift that defied all known physics of the Moniyan Empire. Vale had to follow, had to stabilize the damage, or the backlash could shatter entire realms.
He poured every ounce of his power, every ancient incantation of his noble lineage, into the tear. The wind howled a protest, but Vale forced the passage open, stepping through a blinding portal of swirling, emerald-green chaos.
The moment he emerged, the world hit him not with wind or fire, but with noise. A cacophony of roaring engines, blaring horns, and sharp, metallic scents. He was no longer on a grassy plateau near the Abyss. He was in a sprawling, shadowed city of iron and glass, bathed in the sickly yellow glow of streetlights and neon signs that pulsed with alien symbols.
His carefully woven arcane robes snagged on a rusted fence. His elemental aura, which normally resonated with the pure air, felt suffocated by smog and concrete. He staggered, the sheer density of the unfamiliar dimension pushing him to his knees in a narrow alleyway. He was weak, disoriented, and terrifyingly visible.
"Valir," he whispered, the name lost to the roar of a passing elevated train. There was no fire here, only cool, oppressive concrete. He knew instantly: He had crossed into an unknown Alternate Universe.
THE FANNY
Fanny Wertz moved in the silence between heartbeats. Tonight, the silence was crucial. She was on a covert surveillance job, perched forty stories up on the scaffolding of an unfinished skyscraper, the city lights reflecting coldly off the twin blades sheathed on her back.
She was a master of evasion, a ghost in the concrete canyons. Her brother, Tigreal, believed she was working a regular security job to keep the family afloat, easing his worries after the tragedies of their past. But Fanny was still a Blade Dancer—she just traded ancient battlefields for modern corporate espionage. The money was better, and the rules were... looser.
As she prepared for a final descent, she heard a sound that didn't belong: not a siren, not a car, but the sharp, painful rush of compressed air, followed by a faint, heavy thud. It came from the forgotten service alley directly beneath her.
Fanny slid silently down her steel cable, descending with the practiced ease of a falling feather, her body a masterpiece of controlled motion. She landed silently on the grimy pavement.
And there he is.
A man, no, a being, cloaked in robes of impossible white and azure that seemed to absorb the light around them. His skin glowed faintly, and his face, noble and distraught, was unlike anyone she had ever seen—too perfectly carved, too obviously not from here. He was struggling to stand, gripping a chain-link fence as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality.
"Who are you?" Fanny's voice was a low, practiced hiss, and her hand was already on the hilt of a blade.
Vale flinched, not from fear, but from the sudden, sharp humanity of the sound. He looked up at the source: a woman in tight, functional leather armor, framed by the chaos of steel cables that she clearly controlled. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, held a wary intensity that spoke of danger and instinct.
"I… I am Vale," he managed, the exertion of saying even that simple name making his elemental glow flicker. "I am lost. I have fallen into a wrong… flow."
Fanny stared. Wrong flow?
This wasn't a drunk or a junkie. This was someone who had crashed into her life from the world she knew was out there—the world of magic, elemental power, and Moniyan politics she had desperately tried to leave behind.
The Oath of Secrecy
Fanny didn't trust him. But she understood danger. The unique glow, the alien clothes, the sheer displaced power radiating off him. If anyone, especially her brother Tigreal and his Moniyan forces, found him, the cover she had maintained for years would instantly dissolve. Her life, her money, and her freedom would vanish.
"Get up," she commanded, grabbing his arm. His touch was like cool, highly charged air, a gentle electric current against her skin.
She dragged the weakened Vale across the alley, using her cables to silently pull them both up and over the perimeter wall and into the secluded, abandoned warehouse she used as her safehouse.
Inside, under the cold moonlight slicing through the rafters, she forced him onto an overturned oil drum. "Start talking, Vale. And be fast. If you're a threat, I neutralize you now. If you're lost, you're a liability I can't afford."
Vale took a deep, shuddering breath, and the air around them subtly shifted, carrying the scent of a fresh mountain storm. He explained the dimensional rift, the search for Valir, the Wind Fort, and his elemental nature. He spoke of the "Wind Fort", and the "Moniyan Empire" words that echoed the life she had fled.
"So you're a god?" Fanny asked dryly, cleaning her blade with an indifferent cloth.
"No," Vale sighed, managing a weak smile. "Just one who speaks with the sky. And I am utterly without power here. This world is… muted."
Fanny realized this was her escape hatch. If he truly was powerless, he was just a man who needed protection. A secret. A lie. It was perfect. She could finally have a life grounded in this new reality, far from the war and the trauma of her old one. And he was beautiful—a touch of impossible nobility in her gritty, realistic world.
"Alright, Windtalker," she said, pocketing her cloth. "Here's the deal. I hide you. You stay hidden. You are not a god, you are not a mage. You arejust another secretin this city."
She looked at his impossible clothes and his shimmering skin. "First, we get you clothes that don't glow. Second, you stop talking about the 'Wind Fort.' You need a cover story."
As months turned into a year, the lie became their life. Vale learned to move quietly, fascinated by the "speed" of human technology. Fanny found herself falling into a love she had never expected: a powerful, quiet devotion to the man she was sworn to hide. They built a world in that warehouse, a pocket of peace and honesty amid her lies to Tigreal.
And in that hidden, powerful confluence of wind and steel, agility and arcane nobility, their son was born. A secret given a secret name.
THE BIRTH OF THE CLAVE
The small, secret room in the warehouse was silent save for the soft cries of the newborn. Fanny was exhausted, holding the result of her decade-long deception. Vale sat beside her, his hand trembling as he reached out.
The child was human, solid, perfect but his hair held a subtle, ashy-blue shimmer, and the air around him always felt unusually cool, carrying a faint, fresh scent of rain. (as of this novel's cover)
"He's a key, Fanny," Vale whispered, recognizing the impossible duality in the tiny life. "He is the joining of everything that should not touch. He is the keystone."
Fanny, drained but content, nodded. "He is the link. My world and yours. He has to be safe. We hide him in plain sight."
She stroked the baby's cheek. "His name isClave. The key. The rhythm."
And so, Clave Wertz, the son of the hidden Wind Mage and the secret Assassin, began his life in the urban shadows, a hero whose very existence was the greatest threat to the life his mother had fought so hard to build.
... to be continued
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