The Archetype Of Eternity

A chilling wind swept through the quiet night as Adrian's consciousness stirred from the depths of the void. It was a strange sensation, as if he had been asleep for countless years, only to wake up to a world he had never known. His body felt light, fragile, and wrapped in warmth. The muffled sounds of voices echoed around him, but he couldn't understand them.

The scent of herbs, the faint flickering of a dim lantern, the hushed whispers—he recognized none of them. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a silhouette cradling him gently. A woman. Her breath was weak, her body trembling, yet she held onto him as if he were her last tether to life.

Then, a heavy silence.

The warmth faded. The arms that held him slackened. The murmurs turned to cries.

And just like that, before Adrian could even comprehend his existence, he lost the one who brought him into this world.

—

Adrian's earliest clear memory was not one of confusion or fear, but of quiet determination. Even though he was only three years old, there was something in his eyes—a depth that spoke of experiences from lives past. Born into sorrow, he had been left with no parents: his mother had passed away at birth, and his father had wandered into the wilderness, never to return. Yet the Eldenwood Clan, a small but resilient noble family, had taken him in. They did not pity him; they saw him as another child who will face hardships and treated him as one of their own.

The Eldenwood compound lay at the edge of a vast forest, where the gentle hum of nature mingled with the low murmur of everyday life. In the soft light of early spring, little Adrian would toddle along the worn stone paths of the compound, his curious eyes taking in every detail. He would watch as other children played in the meadows, and he would listen closely when the elders discussed the day's tasks.

It was on one such bright morning that Adrian got his first spook. As he sat quietly beneath an ancient oak, he heard a clear, steady voice—not the chatter of the other children, but a voice that seemed both distant and close, gentle yet unmistakable.

"Adrian, how do you feel about this new life?" the voice asked.

Startled at first, the young boy looked around. He had learned his name, and though he was very young, he understood that his life was different from the others. He replied in a small 

but a clear voice, "I feel safe, though sometimes I am a bit lonely."

The voice chuckled. "Lonely? Nonsense! You've got me, the wisest, most charming companion in existence. Besides, the path ahead is long, and trust me, the moment you start walking it, you won't have time to feel lonely—just time to get stronger."

Then the young boy asked, "Didn't you tell me that you wouldn't help me because of other laws?"

The voice let out a dramatic sigh. "Ah, yes, the ever-complicated laws. Trust me, Adrian, if I had a loophole, I'd be throwing divine blessings at you left and right! But, alas, even mighty cubes have rules to follow. Otherwise, where's the fun in not having struggles on your way to greatness?"

The voice continued, "I am here to speak with you, although I can't interfere with the world, I can still give you some knowledge and aid you in your journey."

Adrian was content with that because although the journey might be a long one he was happy that there was someone to his aid in this new life.

As the days turned into years, Adrian's life in the compound continued, and the world around him began to reveal its broader tapestry. 

— — — —

The Eldenwood compound buzzed with life as Adrian wandered through its stone pathways. He wasn't searching for anything in particular, just letting his feet carry him as he observed the world around him. That was when his steps slowed—his attention drawn to a heated argument nearby.

Near the training grounds, two young clan members were in the midst of a heated argument. One was a frail-looking boy, sharp-eyed and quick with words, while the other was a sturdier youth, his hands calloused from years of training.

"You don't understand," the frail boy argued. "If we negotiate with the merchants properly, we won't even need to fight for better deals. Strategy is far more important than brute strength!"

The sturdier boy scoffed. "Words mean nothing if your enemy doesn't listen. If someone takes what is yours, will you outtalk them? If a beast charges at you, will you reason with it?"

The frail boy hesitated, but before he could respond, the sturdier one pushed forward. "What if you had to protect your family? What if you had to defend your life?" He clenched his fists. "You think intelligence alone will save you?"

Adrian's gaze sharpened as he watched.

The argument escalated. Frustrated, the frail boy suddenly stepped forward, attempting to shove the other back. But the sturdier youth barely moved—his stance was firm, grounded. With a single step, he countered the shove, knocking the frail boy off balance and sending him stumbling to the ground.

Silence followed.

The frail boy looked up, stunned. He had all the words, all the logic, but in the end, they had not stopped the outcome. The sturdier youth simply offered his hand. "Strength doesn't mean everything. But without it, nothing else matters."

Adrian leaned back against the tree, deep in thought.

For all his intelligence, his quick wit, and his ability to reason, he could not deny what he had just seen. Wisdom had its place, but in a world where power dictated survival, one could not rely on cleverness alone.

As the breeze carried the last echoes of the argument away, Adrian made a quiet resolution. He would sharpen his mind, yes—but he would not neglect his strength.

For in a world of power, words alone could not hold their ground.

And so, through those quiet, long days of early childhood, Adrian grew up not just as an orphan, but as a thoughtful and observant child—one who knew his name, carried memories of many lifetimes, and understood that every small choice mattered. Though he was too young to cultivate, he did not remain idle. He trained in martial arts, honing his body in every possible way. Whether it was practicing stances, strengthening his limbs, or testing his endurance, he pushed himself beyond the limits of an ordinary child. 

— — — — 

A sharp whistle cut through the courtyard, signaling the start of the sparring session. Adrian tightened his grip around the wooden sword, his pulse steady but alert. Across from him, his opponent smirked, clearly expecting an easy match. The instructor, arms crossed, gave a small nod, and the duel began. Under the watchful gaze of an elder instructor, Adrian was given a wooden sword for a sparring exercise. His opponent, a slightly older boy, had trained longer and was expected to win easily. Yet as the match began, Adrian's eyes flickered with a sharp focus. He noticed the pattern in his opponent's strikes—the way his shoulder tensed a fraction of a second before an attack, the rhythm of his steps, the slight telegraphing of each move.

Before his training, he might have recognized these patterns but lacked the ability to act on them. Now, however, his honed reflexes allowed him to move. He twisted his body at the last moment, dodging the first swing by a hair's breadth. The second strike came, but he sidestepped, letting it pass harmlessly. The elder's eyes narrowed slightly in interest.

By the time Adrian countered with a strike of his own—precisely aimed but controlled—the elder watching the match stroked his beard in thought. "His movements are sharp, but his mind is even sharper," the man murmured to himself. "For one so young, he reads his opponent far too well."

The sparring match ended with Adrian holding his own far longer than expected, forcing the older boy to exert himself. Though Adrian ultimately lost due to his lack of experience, he walked away with something far more valuable: the quiet approval of the elder and the knowledge that his training was bearing fruit.

In time, as his body matured and he reached the age of eight, the promise of cultivation would call to him. But for now, his days were filled with learning from the clan, absorbing the wisdom of the elders, and quietly preparing for the challenges that lay ahead.

— — — —