A Gift from Beyond

Thursday, January 22nd, 2060

Edited: But needs to change the dialogues to italic and some bold.

A crisp January breeze swirled fallen leaves around Zayn's ankles as he exited the sleek Mansior Repa-3. Sunlight glinted off the polished chrome exterior, mirroring the nervous anticipation that danced in his sapphire eyes. Today was the day – the day he'd be officially recognized as a baronet, the youngest in the illustrious history of the Aethelgarde Empire.

The weight of recent events pressed upon Zayn. The unsettling meeting with Corvus and the unexpected encounter with Leandra left a disquieting feeling in its wake. He yearned for the calming presence of his fiancée, Lyra, but more pressing matters demanded his attention. Today marked the official registration ceremony for his baronet title, a milestone his father mentioned would come with a surprise shrouded in secrecy. However, his parents, Lord and Lady Aethelgarde, were noticeably absent. A pang of disappointment tugged at Zayn's heart, but he understood. As renowned ambassadors for the empire, they were currently on a diplomatic mission in the distant Xiangshen Empire.

Zayn adjusted the stiff collar of his formal wear, the air of authority it conveyed a stark contrast to his usual training gear. Today's ceremony would be a significant step in his journey. To be a baronet, one needed to attain the spiritual cultivation level, signifying mastery over one's spirituality. This realm was commonly referred to as attaining the baronet level, since only when someone reach the spiritual realm will they be qualified to be a baronet.

Following the Spiritual Realm came the realm of "World Strength," where individuals unlocked mana or qi, depending on the interpretation of their nation. This realm was where the magic truly manifested. Upon reaching this level, one's external appearance remained largely unchanged, but the internal transformation was profound. With access to mana, individuals could cast basic spells aligned with their elemental attributes. They became Magicians, or more commonly known within the Aethelgarde Empire as Level 1 Priests.

However, in less developed nations like the Xiangshen Empire, individuals who reached this level were revered as Immortals or gods due to their extended lifespan, often reaching a staggering 1,000 years. In this world, a lifespan exceeding 400 years was a rarity. Mortals, through rigorous physical training, could push their bodies to the extreme, allowing them to live between 300-400 years. So, for these less advanced nations, Level 1 Magicians were beings akin to gods. Developed empires, however, viewed Level 1 Magicians as priests or individuals holding positions of significance within the empire. This vast disparity highlighted the diverse interpretations of magic and cultivation across the world.

Accompanying Zayn today was his Aunt Valeria. Her flamboyant dress, the color of a sunrise, almost outshone the winter sun. Her affection for Zayn bordered on the theatrical, a secret she meticulously guarded. Today's excitement was palpable, and she beamed relentlessly at her nephew.

"Just look at you, my dearest nephew," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a touch of awe. "A baronet at nineteen! I always knew you were destined for greatness."

Zayn chuckled, a hint of his usual playful demeanor peeking through. "Always the drama queen, Aunt Val," he teased playfully. Yet, despite the teasing, a warm feeling of affection settled within him. Valeria had always been a source of unwavering support, a constant in his life.

They were currently cruising in his limited edition Mansior Repa-3 Car. These vehicles were reserved for the ultra-wealthy or Magicians who possessed access to mana. The exorbitant cost stemmed from the car's unique features, powered by mana crystals that allowed for incredible speeds and luxurious comfort.

For most, attaining the Spiritual Realm was a monumental achievement, often reached around the age of 100 or later. For those of privilege, with access to advanced training and resources, the age could be closer to 50 or 60. Zayn's parents, however, were anomalies. They had achieved this level by the unheard-of age of 30, a feat that garnered them immense respect from high officials within the empire, though they never revealed it publicly. Zayn, still unaware of his parents' true cultivation levels, believed it was simply a matter of time before he learned their secret.

The registration hall bustled with activity as Zayn and Valeria entered. Heads turned; whispers fluttered like startled birds. At nineteen, Zayn cut a striking figure, his youthful confidence tempered by a hint of underlying power that emanated from his mastery of the Spiritual Realm. Although whispers of his prodigy bloomed amongst the highly esteemed with keen cultivation senses, to the public eye, Zayn remained simply the heir to the Aethelgarde name, soon to be officially recognized as a baronet at the respectable age of nineteen. This charade, a carefully constructed web of secrecy, was for his own protection. The Aethelgardes were one of the wealthiest families in the empire, and with such wealth came envy and danger. Only when he turned twenty-two, as per imperial law, would Zayn's true age of attaining the baronet level – a mere nineteen – be revealed to the world.

The air crackled with nervous anticipation as they navigated the throng of officials and dignitaries. Zayn, ever the composed figure, held his head high, a flicker of excitement dancing in his sapphire eyes. Today wasn't just about the title; it was a public recognition of his dedication and a stepping stone to a future filled with immense potential.

A hush fell over the crowd as they reached the front of the hall. A stern-faced woman with an air of unwavering authority stood behind a polished podium. This was High Chancellor Marla, a respected figure within the empire's cultivation hierarchy. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, swept over Zayn before settling on a silver badge emblazoned with the Aethelgarde crest.

"Zayn Aethelgarde," her voice boomed through the hall, "you have come before this assembly to claim your rightful place as a baronet of the Aethelgarde Empire. Do you swear allegiance to the Emperor, his laws, and the continued prosperity of our nation?"

Zayn placed his hand on the badge, feeling a surge of pride course through him. "I do," he declared, his voice ringing clear and steady.

A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd. High Chancellor Marla bestowed the badge upon him, a gesture imbued with a sense of finality. It was a simple act, yet it marked a turning point in Zayn's life.

"As per tradition," High Chancellor Marla continued, her voice softening slightly, "a baronet receives a token of recognition. However, in your case, there seems to be a surprise arranged by your esteemed family."

A flicker of surprise crossed Zayn's face. His parents hadn't mentioned anything beyond a "pleasant surprise." As she gestured towards a velvet-lined box resting on the podium, curiosity gnawed at him. He carefully lifted the lid, revealing a small, intricately carved wooden box. A faint inscription adorned the lid, but the archaic script was unfamiliar to him. Perhaps, he thought, it was an heirloom passed down through generations, an artifact entrusted to him now that he was a baronet.

Suddenly, a soft chime resonated throughout the hall, a sound unlike anything Zayn had ever heard. An unsettling silence descended as everyone turned towards the source – a shimmering portal that had materialized in the center of the room. It pulsed with an otherworldly light, swirling with vibrant hues of blue and purple. Before anyone could react, a figure emerged from the portal, cloaked in an ethereal glow.

The officials exchanged bewildered glances. This was unprecedented. No envoy, no announcement – this arrival was as unexpected as it was breathtaking. Zayn felt a jolt of energy race through him, an instinctive recognition sparking within him. Could it be...?

The figure gracefully stepped forward, the ethereal glow dissipating to reveal a woman of otherworldly beauty. Her lustrous, flowing hair shimmered like spun moonlight, cascading down her back. Her form was slender and elegant, draped in a flowing gown that seemed woven from stardust. Her eyes, the color of molten gold, held a wisdom that belied her youthful appearance. As she locked eyes with Zayn, a hint of a smile played upon her lips.

"Greetings, young baronet," she spoke, her voice like a melody of wind chimes. "I come bearing a gift. Not from your family, but from one who recognizes the potential that lies within you."

As the ethereal woman spoke, a wave of drowsiness washed over the hall. Officials slumped in their seats, their eyelids growing heavy. Even High Chancellor Marla, known for her ironclad will, felt a strange lethargy creep in. Yet, Zayn and Valeria remained unaffected. A jolt of energy coursed through Zayn as he locked eyes with the woman.

Her beauty was breathtaking. Her flowing, silver hair cascaded down her back like moonlight, contrasting with her shimmering, starlit gown. But it was her eyes – the color of molten gold – that truly captivated him. As their gazes met, a flicker of recognition sparked within Zayn, a faint echo of a forgotten memory.

A battlefield. Ancient and brutal. The ground, once fertile, was now churned to mud, stained crimson with the blood of countless fallen warriors. The air itself crackled with raw magic, the lingering echoes of a colossal clash. Suddenly, the scene shifted. A towering castle emerged from the mist, its spires piercing the heavens. But before Zayn could take it all in, a crushing weight descended upon him. The memory shattered, plunging him into darkness.

Panic flickered in Valeria's eyes as Zayn slumped forward. Before anyone else could react, the ethereal woman knelt beside him, her touch sending a calming energy through his body. Her gaze, filled with a tenderness that transcended words, held his.

"We will meet soon, Zane," she murmured, her voice a secret melody only he could hear. "This… this was always meant to be."

Then, with a touch of her hand upon his forehead, a surge of power washed over Zayn. The remnants of the memory faded, replaced by a sense of serenity. When he opened his eyes, the woman and the portal were gone. The hall buzzed with confused murmurs, the drowsiness lifting as quickly as it had descended.

Valeria, her initial panic replaced by a fierce protectiveness, glared at the spot where the woman had stood. "Don't worry, Zayn," she said, her voice low and reassuring. "Everything is fine. What happened… it was meant to happen."

Her words held an unspoken weight, a hint of knowledge that only she seemed to possess. No one else in the hall could recall the woman's arrival, their memories seemingly erased by her casual gesture.

-----------------

High above the clouds, in the heart of the Aethelgarde Imperial Palace, a chamber pulsed with a soft luminescence. Emperor Aethelgarde, a man of regal bearing with a strong jawline and piercing blue eyes, opened his eyes. Beside him, a woman of breathtaking beauty, yet distinct from the visitor at the registration hall, emerged from meditation. Her raven hair flowed down her back in a stark contrast to the visitor's silver tresses, and her eyes shimmered with an emerald glow that held an ageless wisdom.

They exchanged a knowing glance, their gazes first drifting towards a point on the horizon where Zayn resided, then soaring high above the clouds, where the portal had pulsed moments before. Finally, their eyes settled on the distant Xiangshen Empire.

A soft smile touched the woman's lips. "He remembers more," she whispered, her voice a melody of rustling leaves.

Emperor Aethelgarde nodded. "The time for his public unveiling draws near," he replied, his voice resonating with a quiet authority.

"Indeed," the woman concurred, her gaze unwavering. "He will meet you soon, at the Duke level, as destined."

With that, the Emperor and Empress of the Aethelgarde Empire, unseen guardians of their nation, looked towards the future with a unified purpose. Someone dear to them was ready to take his place on the world stage. The echoes of his past lives stirred within him, and destiny beckoned.