CELESTIA: The Presence of Neverland
Chapter 4 — Night Between Two Flames ans The departure
Zayn's bag refused to close.
He sat on it, putting his full weight into one last theatrical effort, and finally managed to slide the zipper the last stubborn inch.
"Well... today's the day," he said, out of breath, springing back up.
Aaron leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as serious as always — that quiet gravity which, after three weeks of relentless training in a half-scorched forest, had never really left his face.
"Try not to get expelled on the first day," he said.
Zayn rolled his eyes.
"Me? Impossible. I'm a role model."
Aaron sighed — a long sigh, sincere, almost affectionate beneath its weariness.
They walked together to the station, the overstuffed bag bumping against Zayn's leg with every step, the silence between them heavy with everything neither of them knew how to say. On the platform, Aaron placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder — a gesture he'd repeated so many times these past weeks that it had almost become a language of its own.
"Boréalis won't make you stronger if you don't listen to it," he finally said. "Pay attention over there. Not just to what they teach you. To what you feel."
"Yeah, yeah," Zayn said, waving a hand as if swatting a fly. "Got it, got it."
"Zayn."
Something in Aaron's voice made him turn around.
"I'm serious."
For once, Zayn found nothing to say back. He simply nodded, and something passed between them — not words, but a silent recognition, that of a man who had seen war and a boy just beginning to glimpse its shadow.
The train whistled. Zayn boarded without looking back, because looking back would have meant admitting how afraid he was.
---
The train sped north at an almost indecent speed, cutting through the dawn like a silent blade. Zayn settled by the window, his overstuffed bag wedged between his legs, and watched the landscape change nature as the miles piled up.
He wasn't alone for long.
A blond boy with clear eyes came to sit across from him, a gentle smile floating on his face as if he'd never learned to do otherwise.
"I'm Eothe," he said, holding out his hand. "And you?"
"Zayn. Future living legend."
Eothe let out a small, light, sincere laugh.
His gaze dropped to the strange watch on Zayn's wrist — the white casing, the core that seemed to almost breathe.
"That's weird... it radiates energy."
Zayn held it up proudly, with the exaggerated flair of someone who'd been waiting for this exact question since the trip began.
"This? That's the Guilthitree."
He paused dramatically, savoring the effect.
"Well... its real name is Boréalis."
Eothe's eyes lit up.
"An artifact?"
Zayn shrugged, with that mix of pride and caution he'd mastered from repeating this same scene in front of strangers.
"Let's just say it's complicated."
The train kept cutting through the dawn. Through the window, the landscapes transformed: forests became cities, cities became skyscrapers, skyscrapers became cathedrals of steel.
Then it appeared.
New York.
Not just a city.
A gigantic breath.
A vertical jungle.
A heart beating beneath thousands of lights.
The glass towers reflected the sky as if trying to steal it. Suspended bridges looked like ropes stretched between two worlds. The streets themselves seemed to vibrate with an almost mystical energy.
Zayn pressed his forehead against the window.
"Wooooow... it's bigger than in the movies."
Eothe smiled.
"This is where our real life begins."
Zayn shrugged.
"Or our death. Depends on the day."
The train slowed. The station swallowed the students like a monumental mouth.
They stepped off into organized chaos — hundreds of teenagers dragging suitcases, some excited, others terrified, all lost in the immensity of this new world.
Then a clear voice rose above the crowd.
"Welcome to the United States."
The students turned.
A woman stood before them. Elegant figure, calm but piercing gaze, dark hair swaying slightly in the urban wind.
"I am Himaru Harihiho."
Her voice was soft... yet carried an invisible authority, as if every word weighed more than it seemed to.
"Official presenter and high-ranking Paladin."
A murmur ran through the crowd.
Zayn yawned.
"Presenter? Are we in a show or what..."
Himaru raised her hand.
The noise of the city seemed to vanish all at once.
"Before discovering your true destination... you must understand where you are stepping."
---
They walked for a long time through Manhattan.
The yellow taxis flashed like earthbound lightning. Giant screens shimmered at Times Square. The buildings cast their shadows like silent giants, indifferent to the flood of lost teenagers crossing through their kingdom.
They entered a massive museum.
White columns. Colossal dome. Historical frescoes covering every wall, every ceiling, every corner.
Himaru spoke.
"The United States is a land of power."
"A land of conflicts."
"A land of ambition."
She explained the wars, the revolutions, the science, the technology, the nuclear energy, the space race — each subject flowing into the next with the fluency of a woman who'd given this speech dozens of times without ever losing her conviction.
Zayn looked at the ceiling.
Then the floor.
Then his watch.
Then the ceiling again.
"This is long..."
Eothe listened attentively.
"Don't you find it fascinating?"
"Yeah... if I were eighty years old."
Himaru suddenly fixed her gaze on Zayn.
He straightened up instantly.
"I was joking, madam ultra-charismatic presenter."
A few students laughed.
Himaru let a faint smile slip — the first since their arrival, and Zayn felt strangely proud to have caused it.
---
At dusk, they left the museum.
The dying sun's orange light bathed the city in an almost unreal glow.
They walked toward Central Park.
The skyscrapers faded behind them.
The trees grew more numerous.
The air grew cooler, denser, charged with an electricity that had nothing to do with weather.
They stopped at the northern edge of the park.
Himaru raised her hand.
"What you're about to see doesn't exist."
The wind rose.
The leaves trembled.
The air itself began to vibrate.
A distortion appeared before them, as if space were folding in on itself, as if reality hesitated between two versions of itself.
Zayn blinked.
"Wait... wait... wait... what IS this thing?!"
Himaru stepped forward.
And crossed the void.
The students hesitated, a collective shiver running through their ranks.
Then, one by one...
They entered.
---
The world changed.
The city's noise disappeared all at once, swallowed by a thick, unfamiliar silence.
Before them stretched a city invisible to the rest of the world.
Glowing cobblestone streets.
Floating lampposts casting a violet glow.
Ancient buildings mixed with structures of mystical appearance, as if two eras had merged without ever truly meeting.
And at the center...
A castle.
Immense.
Slender towers pierced the night sky.
Stained glass radiated amethyst light.
Ancient symbols floated around the walls, slowly rotating like patient sentinels.
It was alive.
Powerful.
Eternal.
"The Paladin Academy," Himaru announced.
Total silence fell over the group.
Even the most arrogant were left speechless.
Zayn's mouth fell wide open.
"...It should be illegal to be this stylish."
His eyes shone like a child's in front of a treasure.
"It's... IT'S A MAGIC CASTLE?! IN NEW YORK?! THIS IS INSANE!"
Murmurs ran through the students.
Others were afraid.
The magic in the air was dense.
Almost heavy.
---
In the great hall, floating chandeliers lit up rows of tables.
Runes carved into the floor lit up, one by one, like a heart waking piece by piece.
"Dormitory sorting will now begin."
Names appeared in the air, suspended, glowing.
One by one, students moved toward their respective towers.
"Zayn."
His name echoed through the entire hall.
He raised his hand.
"Present!"
"East Tower. Room 17."
He grabbed his bag.
"East Tower? Sounds classy."
---
The hallway was silent.
The black walls bore golden symbols that seemed to react to every step, glowing faintly before fading.
The air here was colder than elsewhere in the castle.
Zayn opened the door.
It creaked slightly.
The room was spacious.
Two beds.
A large window overlooking the mystical forest.
Talismans hanging from the ceiling, turning slowly in an invisible draft.
And on one of the beds...
A boy sat.
Silent.
Upright posture.
Heavy presence, as if the whole room had reorganized itself around him.
He wore a strange helmet on his head. Not a headset. Something far more complex.
Metal lines ran across its surface. Fine glowing inscriptions pulsed faintly, to the rhythm of a breath that wasn't his own.
He didn't look at Zayn.
But the atmosphere changed immediately.
"Oh."
Zayn walked in.
"Hi, roommate."
No answer.
"What's the helmet for, listening to something? Mystic rock?"
Silence.
Then, finally...
"It's not for listening."
His voice was calm. Sharp.
Zayn narrowed his eyes.
"Then what's it for?"
The boy turned his head slightly.
His eyes were a deep red.
"To limit."
A shiver ran through the room.
"Limit what?"
Silence.
Then, simply:
"Me."
Zayn froze.
Then a smile spread across his face.
"OHHHHH. I like you."
He set down his bag.
"I'm Zayn. Future legendary hero."
The boy replied:
"Yojuro."
A simple name.
But heavy.
Moonlight streamed through the window.
Two completely different energies now shared the same space.
One explosive.
The other contained.
Fate had just locked them together.
And somewhere, in the depths of the castle...
Something was awakening.
---
Night had fallen like a secret.
In the East Tower, the silence had a texture. Thick. Almost conscious. The mystical forest stretched beneath the window, black and silver, its trees whispering to each other with ancient magic. The moon hung above the castle, bathing the stained glass in amethyst light.
In room 17, two breaths coexisted.
Zayn lay on his bed, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling as if trying to read an invisible prophecy there.
"This is insane," he murmured.
Yojuro, sitting upright as always, helmet still in place, replied in a calm voice:
"What's insane?"
Zayn turned his head toward him.
"This morning I was a normal guy. Well, exceptionally stylish, but normal. And now... a hidden magic castle in New York, Paladins, an invisible city... It's too much for one day."
Silence. The wind brushed the window.
Yojuro observed the watch on Zayn's wrist. It pulsed gently. An almost organic glow.
"Your artifact," he said. "It doesn't sleep."
Zayn raised his arm and examined it.
The Guilthitree... Boréalis. The surface seemed calm. But beneath the glass, something was breathing.
"It does that sometimes," Zayn replied with a childlike smile. "It likes to get noticed."
Yojuro didn't smile.
"This isn't unstable energy. It's... contained. As if something is waiting."
A subtle shiver ran through the room.
Zayn sat up.
"You talk like you know it."
Yojuro hesitated. Then, slowly:
"I don't know this object. But I know the things people lock away."
The silence thickened.
Zayn narrowed his eyes.
"Your helmet. Does it really limit you?"
A heartbeat.
Yojuro placed a hand on the metal surface. The fine inscriptions glowed faintly red.
"Yes."
"Could you take it off?"
"Yes."
The wind stopped. Even the forest seemed to hold its breath.
Zayn felt, without understanding why, that this answer weighed more than the entire castle.
He got up and approached the window.
"I have nothing to limit me," he said softly. "I found the Guilthitree in a temple. It was glowing. It called me. I took it."
He shrugged.
"Maybe it chose me. Maybe not. But I've never been afraid of it."
Yojuro finally turned fully toward him. His red eyes weren't threatening.
They were tired.
"You should be."
Not as a threat.
As advice.
Zayn stayed silent for a moment. Then, against all expectation, he burst out laughing.
"You know what? If something this stylish wants to destroy me, we'll discuss it over coffee."
A very slight breath — almost a laugh — escaped Yojuro. Tiny. But real.
The distance between them had just broken.
"Say, Yojuro... if your helmet limits you..."
He closed his eyes.
"Who were you before they decided you had to be limited?"
The silence lingered.
Then, very softly:
"Someone I don't want to become again."
Zayn didn't push. For once.
The night wrapped around them. Two strangers a few hours ago. Two opposing energies. And between them, an ancient, glowing artifact, as if it had found something it wasn't looking for.
Or someone.
---
Dawn didn't really rise.
It seeped in.
A pale light slipped between the Academy's towers, flowing along the stained glass like a silent promise.
In the great outer courtyard, hundreds of students had gathered. The ground was etched with immense runic circles. The air vibrated with an almost electric tension.
Zayn yawned.
"They could've warned us that 'magic academy' meant 'military-style wake-up call.'"
Beside him, Eothe adjusted his gloves.
"Nervous?"
Zayn stretched his shoulders.
"Me? Never. At worst, I die in style."
Eothe smiled, but his eyes betrayed real focus.
At the center of the courtyard, a man stepped forward. Tall. Straight silhouette. White cape trimmed in gold. A thin scar crossed his left eye.
His presence alone imposed silence.
"I am Paladin Auguste Viremont."
His voice didn't shout.
It commanded.
"The entrance exam will now begin."
A collective shiver ran through the ranks.
Auguste raised his hand. Behind him, space tore slowly open. Not a violent rupture. A controlled opening.
And beyond...
A forest.
Dense. Immense. Alive. The trees were too tall, their trunks marked with blessed symbols. A golden mist coiled between the roots.
"The Fumetsu Forest," Auguste declared. "Blessed zone. Unstable zone."
A murmur.
"You will encounter creatures called Fumetsu Beasts. They are sacred. But they will make no distinction between weakness and courage."
The silence thickened further.
"Your objective is simple. Survive. Reach the central beacon before sunset."
A pause.
"Those who fail... will be recovered. If they are still conscious."
A nervous laugh, somewhere. It died out immediately.
Eothe placed a hand on Zayn's shoulder.
"Good luck."
Zayn turned. Their eyes met. For a second, nothing else existed.
"You too," he replied.
Then, quieter:
"Don't die. I need a witness for my legend."
Eothe let out an amused breath.
Auguste lowered his hand.
"The trial begins."
And the world exploded into motion.
---
They ran.
Hundreds of silhouettes surged toward the forest like a human wave. The ground vibrated under their steps. Zayn felt his heart race — not from fear.
From anticipation.
The air changed as they crossed the threshold. Heavier. Purer. Light filtered through gold-and-shadow foliage.
Behind him, the students' cries echoed then scattered.
Then—
A rumble.
Something moved in the mist.
A shape emerged. Massive. Four legs. A body covered in white fur streaked with glowing lines. Its eyes shone with a sacred light.
A Fumetsu Beast.
It didn't roar.
It watched.
Like a judge.
Then it leapt.
A student to the left screamed, barely dodging. Another stumbled. Chaos fragmented.
Zayn dove to the side. The creature crashed exactly where he'd been standing a second earlier, the ground cracking under the impact.
"Okay..." he said, panting. "This is serious."
His watch pulsed. Boréalis vibrated against his skin. Like shared excitement.
The beast turned its head toward him.
No.
It was staring at the Guilthitree.
A suspended moment.
Then a sacred roar tore through the air.
Around them, other shadows moved. The forest wasn't empty. It teemed.
Students scattered in every direction. Some climbed trees. Others invoked minor techniques. Some were already fleeing, purely in panic.
Zayn slowly stood up.
A smile spread across his face.
"Good."
He cracked his neck.
"Let's see if I'm really cut out for this."
The beast charged. The earth shook.
Zayn pressed his watch. Boréalis responded. A blazing light enveloped his body, his skin cracked like molten rock, immense plates formed, colossal stone scales. His eyes burned with an inner fire.
"Roks..." he murmured, and his voice echoed like a mountain.
He leapt. The sacred beast advanced, massive, terrifying. The clash was titanic. Roks struck, his fists of living stone smashing the ground. The creature howled in a resonance that made the trees tremble.
Two hits. Two strikes. Zayn had already won.
But the calm was brief.
A piercing scream. In the distance. Human. Vulnerable.
Zayn covered the distance in a single bound. The golden glow of the mist gave way to the redness of fear. Students lay scattered, some motionless, others convulsing. Blood stained the leaves. Reality had just shattered.
"Impossible... Fumetsu Beasts never kill. They vanish before the worst happens."
And yet... there were no beasts left.
Only Djinns.
Baraka. Achille. And countless others. Their eyes gleamed with malice and ancient blood.
Eothe. The blond boy. He was there, wounded.
Zayn rushed forward, rage burning in his chest. But Baraka had seen him. Black snakes shot from his hand, whipping through the air with deadly precision.
Zayn fell. Roks shattered. His human, metallic body, a hybrid form, took over: a metal humanoid, cold-headed, steel-eyed.
He dodged the snakes. Achille struck. A sharp pain. The transformation failed.
Boréalis vibrated. Aurora's voice, the Guilthitree's, rose:
"Flee... you cannot win."
Zayn shook his head.
"I'm not fleeing."
Achille wounded him again. Baraka seized him, slow and certain, ready to crush him.
Then a flash of light.
Yojuro. A blinding intervention. A white silhouette, calm, precise, cutting through the air with exact decisions.
"Zayn!"
Together, they coordinated. Strategy, synchronization. The students tried to flee.
Yojuro activated his helmet. A sonic wave overwhelmed the Djinns. Chaos turned to confusion.
But Eothe...
Eothe tried to flee, but Achille struck. A swift, precise blow. It pierced his stomach.
Zayn leapt. His hands trembled. Eothe murmured, a faint smile on his lips:
"I'm... glad..."
"No... no... stay..."
And his eyes closed.
Eothe's last breath faded. Zayn's world shattered. Anger, pain, despair... all merged into a single roaring energy.
Yojuro was still struggling. Baraka pushed him back. Time seemed to suffocate.
Yojuro lost consciousness under the pressure.
Then... everything stopped.
The wind, the shadows, the Djinns... time frozen.
A silhouette appeared.
It wasn't Yojuro.
And yet, it bore his features. Dark eyes. Incandescent aura. A flaming clock floating behind him.
"I am Lucifer," he said.
"Your host... your vessel."
Yojuro opened his eyes again. His mind wavered. A foreign, icy voice whispered:
"Let me take control."
After a moment, a silent agreement.
Lucifer laughed. A cruel, ancient laugh, burning with amusement:
"Hahaha... All those centuries in Hell... so boring... I can finally have some fun in this dimension."
Achille, naive, tried a strike from behind. Lucifer obliterated him. A fraction of a second. A blast of pure energy.
Baraka, witnessing this power, recoiled, terrified.
Zayn stood frozen, eyes wide. He had never felt such pressure, such an aura, a power... transcending everything he knew.
The forest was no longer merely blessed.
It had become a ground of judgment.
And at its center, a new god had just risen.