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EDIT (Please read): Changed and added the name of the arc name to "Genesis Arc", as to not confuse audiences on the transition to Y/N and Jingliu's blossoming saga. Thank you to Fate-Turner72022 and RedShah for giving me suggestions.
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The heart of Xianzhou pulsed vividly within the confines of the Xianzhou Cangcheng, a flagship renowned not only for its majestic stature but also for the thriving life it harbored within. A crown jewel among the nine flagships, Cangcheng was a testament to the harmonious blend of times gone by and the promise of the future.
Cobalt skies stretched endlessly, acting as a vast canvas where the radiant lights of neighboring planets and stars painted an eternal masterpiece. But it was beneath this celestial tapestry that Cangcheng truly came to life. Buildings, both grand and quaint, rose elegantly, their silhouettes evoking an intricate dance of tradition and innovation. Eaves of the houses curved delicately, reminiscent of ancient pagodas, while the seamless integration of luminous panels and holographic displays hinted at the technological prowess of Xianzhou.
Streets, paved with a shimmering material that seemed to mirror the skies above, were alive with activity. Laughter of children echoed, their nimble feet darting in and out of alleyways, playing age-old games of tag and chase. The merriment of their voices provided a stark contrast to the stoic demeanor of the Cloud Knights. Clad in armor that glinted with an otherworldly sheen, they patrolled the streets, their presence a reassuring symbol of safety and order. Their footsteps resonated with purpose, casting gentle ripples across the shimmering ground, much like pebbles skimming the surface of a tranquil pond.
Nestled between buildings were open markets, where merchants peddled their wares with animated fervor. Stalls adorned with radiant cloth showcased an array of goods – from exotic fruits that glowed with inner fire to intricate artifacts that whispered tales of distant realms. The air was thick with aromas, a blend of sizzling delicacies, fragrant blooms, and the subtle hint of incense wafting from nearby temples.
Yet, amidst this bustling tapestry of life, there were pockets of tranquility. Courtyards with serene ponds reflected the world around in their glassy depths, while the gentle rustle of trees, bearing luminous fruits, serenaded those who sought solace in their shade.
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In the heart of Xianzhou Cangcheng, where streets hummed with the energy of daily life, a small figure, Y/N, threaded his way through the crowd. The innocence of childhood was painted across his face, and in his thin arms, he clutched goods intended for a special dinner that night. His heart, though timid, never missed a beat to greet everyone he passed with a wide smile, each small wave eliciting warm responses from most.
In Cangcheng, not every day was painted with vibrant strokes of harmony and tranquility. The city had its underbelly, and at times, the inexperienced and youthful would fall prey to the intoxicating allure of power and prestige.
As Y/N ambled through the stone-paved streets, clutching a bag of freshly purchased goods, the rich aroma of spices and dried herbs wafting from it, he found himself face to face with a band of newly-minted cadets from the prestigious Cloud Knights. Their gleaming armor reflected the sun's rays, creating an almost halo-like aura around them. Their upright postures and the glittering badges pinned to their chests were clear indicators of their newfound status.
However, the unmistakable glint of arrogance danced in their eyes. They moved with an air of entitlement, their shoulders broad, and their steps synchronized. Their world had changed overnight, and the heady feeling of authority had quickly gone to their heads.
Noticing the solitary figure of Y/N, a smirk spread across the face of the one who appeared to be their leader, a burly young man with a scar running down his cheek. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery.
Y/N paused, taking a deep breath, trying to maintain a neutral expression. He had heard tales of such encounters, where the city's youth, fueled by their newfound positions, often tried asserting dominance over the common folk.
The leader's hand shot out, fingers closing around the top of Y/N's bag. "Whatcha got there, boy?" he taunted, giving the bag a slight tug.
Y/N's grip tightened. "It's just some food and medicine," he replied, attempting to sidestep the group and continue on his way.
But the cadet wasn't done. Blocking Y/N's path, he sneered, "Hand it over. Consider it a tribute to the Cloud Knights."
Memories flooded Y/N's mind – the warmth of his home, dinners under the soft glow of lanterns, his mother's laughter, and the many times she had told him tales of courage and valor. Drawing strength from these memories, Y/N met the cadet's gaze squarely. "Th-these are for my mom... and me," he stammered, his voice quivering but firm.
A hush fell over the group. The moment stretched on, thick with tension, before being shattered by a boisterous laugh from one of the cadets. "Look boys, he's buying gifts for his mommy!"
Another joined in, "Maybe we should help him pick some flowers too!"
The leader, enjoying the spectacle, yanked the bag from Y/N's hands with a swift motion. As Y/N lunged forward to retrieve it, he was met with a forceful push, sending him sprawling to the ground. The contents of the bag scattered, with fruits rolling and a bottle of medicine shattering.
Snickering, the cadets retreated, leaving Y/N amidst a symphony of their jeers and the murmurs of sympathetic onlookers. Pushing himself up, dusting off his clothes, Y/N's eyes shimmered with a mix of anger and determination. His clenched fist bore testament to a silent vow – he wouldn't be bullied again.
The golden hues of the setting sun cast long shadows as Y/N approached his modest home. After entering the house, he was enveloped in the comforting embrace of his mother, her vulpine ears twitching with concern. Pulling away slightly, her eyes widened at the sight of her son's bruises. She gently cradled his face, her voice quivering, "Are you alright, my dear?"
Y/N, always trying to be the strong one, hesitated momentarily. His silence spoke volumes, and soon enough, tears brimmed in his eyes. Nestling him close, his mother whispered reassurances, "One day, you will stand tall, and no one will dare cast a shadow upon you."
"But that sounds like... a pipe dream," Y/N whispered back, his voice barely audible.
His mother tilted his chin up, locking eyes with him, a fire of determination burning in her gaze. "Dreams remain dreams only when left unchased. Turn yours into reality; work for it, fight for it."
Y/N nodded, not entirely convinced, but warmed by his mother's words. Recognizing the need to lift her son's spirits, she beamed, "How about dinner outside tonight?"
His face lit up, "If it's alright with you, mom."
Her radiant smile, one that could captivate hearts, shone even brighter. "Then get ready, my little warrior. Adventure awaits us."
---
The streets of Xianzhou Cangcheng came alive with the warm, mellow glow of lanterns and streetlights. The thrum of activity was palpable as citizens gathered to celebrate the legacy of Lan, the Aeon of Hunt. His tales of bravery, wisdom, and determination resonated through the ages, turning the humble Xianzhou into a formidable force to be reckoned with. The air was thick with the aroma of exotic cuisines, the chatter of barter and trade, and the distant laughter from games introduced by travelers from galaxies far and wide. This was Cangcheng in all its glory—a melting pot of cultures and traditions, holding the title of a diverse Flagship with pride.
Navigating through the crowd was the mother-son duo, looking radiant in traditional Xianzhou attire. The Foxian mother adorned a flowing dress of serene greens and pristine whites, which billowed around her, creating an ethereal aura. Its baggy nature contrasted beautifully with the delicate features of her lineage. Y/N, her son, sported a cobalt blue shirt paired with short black pants, looking every bit the young Xianzhou native. Their interlinked fingers and synchronized steps painted a serene portrait amidst the hustle and bustle, encapsulating the deep bond they shared.
"Mom, why are the lanterns so bright?" Y/N inquired, his curious eyes darting to every nook and cranny.
She smiled, "The lanterns shine with the light of hope and unity, my dear. They remind us of our unity as Xianzhou, and how together, we can conquer darkness."
He furrowed his brow, "And why do we wear these clothes during festivals?"
Chuckling, she explained, "These clothes are a symbol of our tradition and history, connecting us to our ancestors and the tales they've passed down. It's our way of paying respect and remembering our roots."
Lost in their conversation, the familiar scent of charred meat and stir-fried greens wafted their way. They had arrived at their favorite haunt—a bustling restaurant known for its eclectic menu. The robust aroma of skewers sizzling over open flames, coupled with the intoxicating scents of herbs and spices, enveloped the vicinity.
Spotting them from a distance, the restaurant's owner, a robust woman with a heart as big as her smiles, shouted jubilantly, "Ah! Look who's here!"
Y/N's face broke into a wide grin, "Aunty!" And with that, he dashed towards her, launching into a tiny leap. The owner, caught in the spontaneity of the moment, bent down to embrace the young boy, their hug capturing the very essence of Xianzhou—warm, inviting, and full of love.
The owner then held Y/N's rosy cheeks in her palms, laughed heartily, her voice echoing through the ambient noise. "Just look at you, growing up so fast!" she exclaimed.
Y/N's face turned a shade redder, and he wriggled away from her grasp. "Stop it, Aunty!" he whined, embarrassment evident in his eyes. His childish protests brought smiles to the faces of many around them. Regular customers, familiar with the pair's dynamic, watched the exchange with amusement, their day brightened by their endearing antics.
Releasing Y/N, the aunty nodded towards the inner part of the restaurant. "Why don't you head to your usual spot? I need a moment with your mom," she whispered, ensuring he didn't catch the concern in her voice. Oblivious to the underlying tension, Y/N eagerly nodded and darted off, anticipation for the meal ahead evident in his swift steps.
Left behind, the two women exchanged a heavy look. Breaking the silence, the owner leaned closer, her voice dropping to a concerned whisper. "Is everything okay? You look a bit off today."
The foxian mother hesitated, her eyes darting around before settling on the restaurant owner. She sighed heavily, crossing her arms. "It's those teenagers again," she admitted with a hint of exasperation.
The owner's face darkened, her hand involuntarily reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Those miscreants! They really are a stain on the Cloud Knights' reputation," she muttered, her frustration evident.
The foxian waved her hand dismissively, hoping to quell the owner's growing anger. "It's not worth making a scene," she said softly, but the owner's fiery spirit couldn't be easily doused.
Raising her arms dramatically, the owner declared, "I ought to inform the other stalls about their misdeeds! That would teach them!"
A swift, playful slap from the foxian met the back of the owner's head. "Always the dramatic one, aren't you?" she teased as the owner exaggeratedly clutched the back of her head, feigning immense pain. Both women shared a chuckle, the tension momentarily forgotten.
"Alright, alright," the foxian said, shaking her head with a smile. "Enough of this. Let's just enjoy the evening. Lead the way."
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The light from the setting sun cast a warm glow throughout the restaurant, its rays reflecting off the polished surfaces of the tables and chairs. The gentle hum of conversations filled the air, punctuated occasionally by the clinking of glasses or the laughter of happy patrons.
Y/N, with his untamed energy, was a noticeable exception to the otherwise calm atmosphere. Every so often, he would lift his head and scan the surroundings, his eyes wide with curiosity. Every sound, every movement held a fascination for him, a testament to the boundless wonder of childhood.
The owner, a middle-aged woman with a hearty laugh and kind eyes, took her seat next to Y/N. "My, my, you've been keeping my staff on their toes, haven't you?" she remarked with a wink, playfully nudging him.
Y/N looked up, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Sorry, aunty," he replied, his voice tinged with innocence.
She chuckled, shaking her head fondly. "No need to apologize, dear. It's always a pleasure to have you here."
The foxian mother, her sleek silver fur contrasting beautifully with the restaurant's wooden interior, sat on the other side of Y/N. Her expression was one of calm serenity, a stark contrast to the vivaciousness of the boy and the owner.
Y/N's attention shifted from the owner to the foxian. "Mama, when will the food come?" he inquired, his stomach audibly rumbling.
The foxian smiled gently, patting his head. "Soon, dear."
As the conversation flowed, it took on the easy cadence of familiarity. The owner, brushing a stray hair from her face, leaned back in her chair and let out a contented sigh. "You know, I've always loved this time of year," she began, her eyes taking on a distant look. "The way the leaves turn golden and the air gets that crisp chill... It's magical."
The foxian mother nodded, her silvery tail swishing thoughtfully. "It reminds me of my homeland. In the autumn, the entire forest would be ablaze with colors. Reds, oranges, yellows... A sea of fiery foliage."
Y/N looked between the two, his brow furrowing in confusion. "But why do the leaves change colors?"
The owner chuckled, a warm and hearty sound. "Well, Y/N, it's nature's way of preparing for the colder months. Trees take back the green chlorophyll from their leaves, and what's left are the beautiful colors we see."
The boy's eyes widened with understanding. "So, it's like a big bedtime for trees?"
The foxian laughed softly, "Exactly, darling."
Shifting in her seat, the owner leaned forward, her face illuminated by the soft candlelight. "Speaking of changes, have you both heard about the upcoming festival in the village square? They say this year is going to be grander than ever!"
The foxian's ears perked up. "Oh, I've heard! The children are especially excited about the lantern release. Y/N has been talking about it non-stop."
Y/N's face turned a shade of pink, "I just think it's pretty, that's all."
The owner winked at him. "I bet it is. And speaking of pretty things, I've been working on a new dessert recipe. It's a mix of caramelized apples with a hint of cinnamon, topped with whipped cream. Would you like to try it the next time you're here?"
Y/N's eyes shone with eagerness. "Yes, please!"
Just as the trio were deep in conversation, a server approached their table with trays laden with mouthwatering dishes. The aroma wafting from the plates was intoxicating. Y/N's stomach growled audibly, making the foxian chuckle.
"Sounds like someone's ready to eat," the owner remarked with a playful grin.
Y/N nodded vigorously. "I've been waiting all day!"
The three of them shared a hearty laugh, cherishing the warmth of the moment.
The owner poured herself a glass of wine, its deep red color shimmering in the dim light. "To good company," she toasted, raising her glass.
The foxian mother raised her tea in response, her eyes softening with affection. "To cherished moments," she added.
Y/N, holding his cup of apple juice, grinned from ear to ear. "To yummy food!" he exclaimed, making the adults chuckle.
As they began to eat, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and camaraderie. It was a simple moment, but one that would be cherished for a long time to come.
---
As the hands of the clock continued their inexorable march, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted from bustling liveliness to a tranquil stillness. The once bustling eatery now echoed with the soft murmurs of the few remaining patrons.
Y/N, who was earlier bursting with energy, now appeared to be an animated, overfed cherub, looking as if he had just emerged victorious from a grand food battle. His round cheeks glowed with the contentment of a well-satisfied meal.
The owner, whose jovial demeanor had always been the life of the party, suddenly wore a shadow of annoyance. "You wouldn't believe the nerve of these new establishments! Challenging me after all these years," she exclaimed, her voice laden with a mix of exasperation and pride. "Youthful interventions indeed! The audacity of them, thinking they can just swoop in and take away my customers."
The foxian mother, usually the picture of composure, wore a furrowed brow. She sighed, "It's not just you. Times have been rather trying for me too."
The owner's expression shifted from annoyance to concern. "What's bothering you? Come on, out with it!" she demanded, her eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and genuine concern.
The foxian hesitated, her gaze darting around the dimly lit space. "It's not something to discuss here," she murmured, her tone heavy with concern. "It's... complicated."
The gravity of the situation seemed to dawn on the owner, and her playful demeanor gave way to understanding. "I see," she replied, her tone softening. "For you to be this cautious, it must be serious."
As the two continued their hushed conversation, Y/N, overcome by the weight of his meal and the late hour, slowly drifted into slumber. His head tilted to one side, resting against the foxian's arm, his features relaxed in the innocent repose of childhood.
Suppressing a chuckle, the foxian mother was about to readjust Y/N's position when the owner, ever the mischief-maker, swiftly took out her camera and began snapping pictures of the sleeping child, the flash cutting through the subdued lighting. "Blackmail material for when he's older," she whispered with a cheeky grin.
The sudden burst of light roused Y/N from his nap. Rubbing his eyes, he looked up at his mother with a sleepy pout. "Mama, can we go home now?"
Checking the time and realizing it was well past his bedtime, the foxian nodded, her face breaking into a gentle smile. "Yes, dear. It's time."
The owner, eager to part on a high note, stood up and declared, "Tonight's on the house. Consider it a gift for good company."
The foxian expressed her gratitude and, after a brief pause, inquired, "Would you be able to look after Y/N starting tomorrow? I have some... work obligations."
Raising an eyebrow, the owner inquired, "How long will you be away?"
"Maybe a month or two," she replied, her voice tinged with regret. "It's going to be a lengthy assignment."
The owner sighed, her gaze softening. "Being a pilot in these parts is no easy task, is it?"
The foxian only nodded, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Collecting Y/N, who was still groggy from his brief nap, the two made their way to the exit. As they reached the door, both mother and son turned around, offering a heartfelt wave to the owner, their silhouettes illuminated by the soft glow from the streetlights outside.
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The gentle rhythm of their footsteps was the only sound that accompanied Y/N and his mother as they made their way through the night. The streets, bathed in the soft, silvery light of the moon, seemed to envelop them in a cocoon of serenity. The bond between the two was palpable, as was Y/N's unwavering trust in his mother, a revered pilot with the Sky-Faring Commission.
Their abode was a sanctuary amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Modest in size, but exuding a certain elegance. The interiors boasted minimalistic, yet sophisticated furniture, each piece radiating an allure that captured the attention and held it.
Once inside, the familiar routine commenced. The evening's residues were washed away, and the weight of the day slowly began to dissipate. As Y/N prepared to bid the world goodnight, his mother approached him with a heavy heart. "My love, I have to go away again for work," she whispered, her voice breaking ever so slightly.
The weight of her words settled heavily on Y/N's heart, dimming the light in his eyes. Noticing his crestfallen expression, the foxian mother enveloped him in a tender embrace, fighting to keep her own tears at bay. Her absences, dictated by her demanding profession, were the bane of their existence. Their moments together were fleeting, yet each one was treasured deeply. It was a testament to her love and dedication that even in her absence, the bond between them remained unbroken.
As she gently cradled Y/N's head, whispering soothing words to comfort him, he looked up at her, eyes shimmering with tears. "Thank you, Mama," he murmured, his voice laden with emotion.
Caught off guard, the foxian mother could no longer hold back her tears. She had braced herself for his anger, his disappointment, but this heartfelt gratitude was unexpected. It was in this moment that she realized the depth of understanding and maturity her young son possessed.
After a few more moments of shared silence, they parted for the night. As she closed his bedroom door, a soft smile graced her lips, a testament to the pride and love she felt for her son.
Inside his room, Y/N lay on his bed, lost in thought. The words of encouragement from his mother echoed in his mind. With determination burning in his heart, he clenched his fist, imagining the vast expanse of the sky and the stars within his grasp. And with dreams of strength and resilience, he drifted off to sleep.
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Y/N, bursting with the morning's energy, initiated his daily routine – a thorough wash and a hunt for breakfast. As he descended the stairs, the familiar metallic glint of the Cloud Knight's pilot armor caught his eye. His mother, donning the distinguished gear, was preparing breakfast. The clinking of pans and her soft humming was comforting.
"Early riser today, huh?" She smiled as she caught his gaze, her eyes dancing with mischief. Y/N, taken aback by her presence, blurted, "Are you leaving now?"
"Yes," she replied, her tone a mixture of sadness and acceptance. "But not before we share one last breakfast together."
The aroma of freshly baked bread and scrambled eggs wafted through the air as Y/N and his mother sat down for breakfast. The sun's first rays spilled through the windows, casting golden hues across the table. They ate in silence, but the quiet was comforting, not stifling. Every so often, his mother would reach out, brushing crumbs from his cheek or offering him more juice. It was their way of saying everything without uttering a word.
Finishing her plate, she cleared her throat, a softness in her eyes. "Y/N," she began, her voice gentle yet firm, "You know I wouldn't leave unless I had to. Promise me you'll take care of yourself while I'm gone."
Y/N looked down at his half-eaten toast, his fingers playing with the fork. "I know, Mom. And I promise. No fights anywhere."
She bent down, bringing herself eye-level with him. A playful smirk tugged at her lips, "And no mischief. Especially with girls. I don't want to come home to any surprise guests."
His eyes widened in mock horror. "Me? Mischief?" He chuckled, the previous heaviness momentarily forgotten. "Don't worry. No girls. Promise."
The moment lingered, their shared laughter a brief respite from the impending departure. They shared a long, tight hug, both drawing strength from the other.
With his mother gone, the house felt larger, emptier. Y/N, feeling the weight of the silence, decided on a spontaneous trip to the forest. It had always been a refuge for him, a place to escape and lose himself in thoughts. The trees stood tall and inviting, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, narrating tales of old.
As he delved deeper, the chorus of nature surrounded him, the chirping of birds and distant calls of wildlife. Then, abruptly, another sound joined the symphony - a rhythmic clang of metal. His steps slowed, ears straining. The sound was accompanied by labored panting, suggesting effort and exertion. Drawn by the strange juxtaposition, Y/N's curiosity propelled him forward, guiding him to the source.
There, amidst the dappled sunlight, stood a girl, roughly his age. Her pale hair cascaded down her shoulders, contrasting starkly with her fiery red eyes. The attire she wore resembled that of a young warrior, with a crude iron sword in her grasp. Her swordplay lacked finesse, yet there was an undeniable passion and determination.
Caught in the captivating sight, Y/N barely realized he had become her audience until she locked eyes with him. The serious air around her remained as she inquired, "Who are you?" in a monotone voice.
With a friendly smile, Y/N replied, "Hi! I'm Y/N. And you are?" Instead of words, she responded by pointing her sword directly at him. What a peculiar way to introduce oneself!
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End of Chapter