Relics: The Ashes of a Lost World

The clang of wooden staffs echoed through the training grounds of the Royal School of West Yuesai. Students sparred under the watchful eyes of instructors, their movements sharp and deliberate. Ade watched from the sidelines, his arms crossed over his chest. Opa rested against the wall behind him, its dormant state a silent reminder of its presence.

"You're not joining?" a fellow student asked, sweat dripping from his brow after a particularly intense match.

Ade shook his head. "I don't need the practice," he replied, his tone measured. "Besides, my staff isn't for mock battles."

The student raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Everyone knew about Opa—the legendary relic tied to the Adebayo family. And everyone knew it was heavy, even impossible, for anyone else to carry in its stale state. Only Ade could bear its weight, but its true potential remained locked to him.

...

Later that evening, Ade sat in the quiet solitude of his dormitory, Opa leaning against the wall beside his desk. The faint glow of the city lights outside cast long shadows across the room. His fingers traced the intricate engravings on the staff's surface. Even in its dormant state, it felt alive—pulsing faintly in his grip, a constant reminder of the expectations that came with it.

He leaned back, exhaling slowly. The Royal School was far from home, nestled in the heart of the kingdom's capital. Holidays were his only reprieve, the brief times he could return to his family's estate. But even then, the weight of legacy followed him.

"You're the first in generations to wield it," his father had told him during his last visit. "Make it count."

Ade tightened his grip on Opa. It wasn't wielding. It was carrying. The relic boosted his physical abilities in its dormant state—he was faster, stronger, and more durable than his peers—but that wasn't enough. He couldn't activate it. He couldn't make it expand, contract, or use any of the abilities written in the stories of his ancestors.

He stood, picking up Opa with ease. To anyone else, it would have been like trying to lift a mountain. But to Ade, it felt natural, even comforting. He wasn't allowed to use it in sparring matches or training; its mere presence was enough to unbalance the other students. But that didn't stop him from carrying it wherever he went.

...

The journey back to his family's estate was long and quiet, the rolling hills and dense forests of West Yuesai passing by in a blur. By the time Ade arrived, the evening sun cast a golden glow over the city his family governed.

He was greeted by the usual fanfare—guards bowing, attendants rushing to carry his bags. But when they reached for Opa, they hesitated. One of them had tried once, long ago, to lift it. He'd failed spectacularly.

"Welcome home, Ade," his father said, descending the grand staircase of the estate. His presence was as commanding as ever, his gaze sharp and appraising.

"Father," Ade replied, bowing slightly before straightening.

They walked together through the estate's halls, the silence between them heavy. Finally, his father spoke. "Have you made progress?"

Ade knew what he meant. "No," he admitted, his voice tight. "It's still dormant."

His father stopped, turning to face him. "Do you understand what that means? If you can't awaken it, you're no different from anyone else. This relic is more than a weapon—it's our legacy. It's what separates the Adebayo family from the rest."

Ade met his gaze, frustration flickering in his eyes. "I'm trying."

"Trying isn't enough," his father replied coldly. "This world doesn't reward effort; it rewards results."

...

The rain fell steadily as Ade wandered through the quiet streets of his family's city. The cobblestones glistened under the faint light of lanterns, their flickering glow casting long shadows. Opa rested across his back, its weight familiar and grounding.

He passed merchants closing their stalls for the night and guards patrolling the streets. Some nodded respectfully as he passed, their gazes lingering on the staff he carried. To them, it was a symbol of power and protection. To Ade, it was a constant source of pressure.

As he reached the central square, he paused. The faint hum of the rain against stone filled the silence. He adjusted Opa's position, leaning on it slightly as he stared up at the towering statue of one of his ancestors—a wielder of Opa who had turned the tide of a great war centuries ago.

"How did you do it?" Ade muttered to himself. The statue, of course, didn't answer.

...

Ade was on his way back to the estate when it happened. The rain intensified, each drop feeling heavier than the last. He adjusted Opa on his shoulder, his thoughts elsewhere.

Then, a blinding light tore through the sky. It was sudden, overwhelming, and all-consuming. He stumbled, shielding his eyes as the world seemed to dissolve around him.

"Opa!" he shouted instinctively, gripping the staff tighter. For the first time, it pulsed faintly, a vibration traveling through his hands. But it didn't respond fully; it remained dormant.

The ground shifted beneath him, and he fell, tumbling into a void of blinding light and deafening silence. When he opened his eyes, the rain was gone. The familiar streets were gone. Snow pressed against his back, and the air bit at his skin.

Low-tier Merchas emerged from the shadows, their glowing red eyes locking onto him. His breath quickened as he scrambled to his feet, Opa still clutched tightly in his hands.

They charged. Ade moved without thinking, his training kicking in. He swung Opa with precision, striking one Mercha's leg and sending it crashing to the ground. Another lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air. He ducked, spinning the staff to parry the attack.

Each strike reminded him of what Opa could do if only he could awaken it. The dormant relic enhanced his strength and speed, but against the relentless machines, it wasn't enough.

Finally, the last Mercha fell, its red eyes flickering out as it crumpled into the snow. Ade collapsed beside it, the cold seeping into his bones. His vision blurred, and the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the faint pulse of Opa's engravings.

...

Ade snapped back to reality, his grip tightening on Opa as he stood in the icy forest with Nur and Aaminata. The hum of the island's energy vibrated faintly in the air, a constant reminder of where they were.

"You okay?" Nur asked, his flames flickering faintly as he adjusted his goggles.

Ade nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. Just… thinking."

Aaminata's gaze lingered on him for a moment, her golden markings faintly glowing. "The past doesn't matter right now," she said softly. "Focus on what's ahead."

Ade exhaled, steadying himself. For once, his father's voice echoed in his mind, not as a burden but as a challenge. Prove yourself.

Ade tightened his grip on Opa and followed his companions into the unknown.