Beginning Of Multiverse Saga

Chapter 229: Nafreya and Seth Tribe

Jean stared at her hands. They were still glowing faintly.

But there was no warmth in them now.

Only silence.

Only loss.

"I killed her..." she whispered, voice trembling. "I killed my own mother..."

Her legs shook as she tried to stand. The ground beneath her felt far away, like she was floating through a nightmare.

The villagers didn’t speak. They watched in stunned silence.

Some were scared. Others wept quietly. A few Flame Beasts whimpered near the broken huts.

Jean’s heart felt like it had been torn apart. Her chest ached. Her throat burned with every breath.

"I didn’t want this..."

"I didn’t ask for this power..."

Tears streamed down her face as her body slowly backed away from the ruined center of the village.

Her hands covered her face.

Her voice broke as she screamed, "I didn’t want to hurt anyone!"

And then—without waiting—she turned.

And she ran.

Ran barefoot through the broken gates, past the scorched ground and sleeping beasts.

The morning sky began to brighten above, but her world only got darker.

She didn’t know where she was going.

She just wanted to leave.

To run from the pain.

From the fear.

From herself.

And as she vanished into the deep jungle, her sobs echoed behind her like falling embers—until even those were lost in the wind.

---

The light had faded.

The ground was quiet again.

The flames had died down, and only the sound of crackling ruins and broken whispers filled the air.

Villagers stepped out slowly, one by one—mothers holding their children, warriors helping each other stand, elders leaning on sticks. No one knew what to say.

The center of the Flame Beast Tribe was in ruins.

Huts lay shattered. Fire pets whimpered or lay still. The sacred flame was nothing more than flickering ash.

And Jean... Jean was gone.

"She ran," someone whispered. "She just ran..."

A young girl clutched her injured pet and cried softly. Others simply stood in silence, shocked by what they had just witnessed.

The villagers didn’t understand what had happened—what kind of power could tear apart warriors and beasts with no effort... what kind of power could erase someone with just a single touch.

Then a slow voice spoke from the far end of the clearing.

It was the Village Chief, an old man with dark skin, deep scars, and glowing red-orange eyes like dying embers. He was silent until now, but as he walked to the broken center, all eyes turned to him.

He looked at the blackened ground where Jean’s mother had once stood.

He bent down... touched the ashes.

And whispered, "Phoenix..."

A silence fell again. This time heavier.

"You mean... her power?" one of the warriors asked quietly.

The Chief stood slowly. "Yes. The power that sleeps within Jean is not just fire. It is not just strength. It is something... ancient. Something that should never fully awaken."

"The Phoenix...?" someone echoed.

The Chief nodded.

"Phoenix is a force of rebirth... but also destruction. It burns away everything. It can create life—or end it."

He looked at the villagers—faces pale, hearts pounding.

"She is no longer just a girl from our tribe," he said. "She is something much greater... and far more dangerous."

"If we don’t find her... if we don’t help her control it..."

He looked toward the distant jungle, where Jean had vanished.

"...Then the Phoenix will turn dark."

"And when that happens, it won’t just be our tribe that falls."

"It will be all of Savroth."

He paused.

"...It may even destroy Aetherion itself."

---

Far away from the ruined village, hidden deep in the shadowy peaks of the Black Hollow Mountains, stood the fortress of the Seth Tribe—a place wrapped in darkness where even sunlight feared to enter.

Clouds lingered like smoke, and the winds whispered curses in forgotten tongues. The mountain itself seemed alive, breathing with secrets long buried.

This tribe, feared by all and known by few, worshipped Seth—the ancient god of chaos, storms, destruction, and war.

Unlike the tribes of light and harmony, the Seth followers believed in power through disorder. They saw peace as weakness, and believed that only the strong had the right to rule.

Their temples were not made of clay or wood but carved deep into black stone, their walls etched with twisted symbols.

Statues of Seth—with the head of a strange beast, sharp ears, and piercing eyes—stood in every hall, holding weapons made of bone and obsidian.

Offerings of blood, shattered crystals, and stolen beast-essence were laid before him regularly.

The people of the Seth Tribe were cold and cruel. Many were born with powers of deception and illusion.

Some could shift their shapes, others could disappear into thin air, and some could twist the minds of beasts and humans alike.

They trained in the shadows, perfecting the arts of ambush and mimicry. They did not believe in balance. They believed in control.

And their leader, the most dangerous of all, was a woman named Nafreya.

Inside a cold, stone chamber lit by eerie blue flames, a large crystal globe floated in the air. The surface shimmered with moving images—scenes of chaos and fire, the battle at the Flame Beast Tribe... Jean, glowing like a fallen star, weeping as she fled into the wild.

Nafreya stood before the globe. Tall, graceful, and deadly. Her skin was pale as moonlight, her hair dark as ink and constantly shifting in hue—sometimes red, sometimes silver, sometimes pure black. Her eyes, a burning violet, never blinked as she watched the girl.

Clad in a long black robe with golden edges, her presence filled the chamber like a storm. Around her neck, she wore a necklace carved with Seth’s symbol. The air bent slightly around her, showing just how much power she held.

She smiled—cold and hungry.

"So... after five centuries..." she whispered, her voice like velvet wrapped around a knife. "The Phoenix has returned."

She stepped closer to the globe, her fingers brushing the glowing surface. Images of Jean flickered, her face filled with grief and confusion.

"For five hundred years, I searched for it... waited for it... and now it chooses a lost, frightened child?" Her voice rose slightly, mockery and bitterness in every word. "No. That power was meant for me."

Her form shifted slightly—her jaw longer, her fingers sharper—and then returned to normal. It was subtle, but terrifying. She could change at will, take any form she liked.

"I will not let her waste it. That flame will be mine. No one—not her, not the gods, not even death—can stop me now."

She turned, her robes sweeping behind her like black fire.

"Prepare the illusion gate," she commanded to the shadows behind her. "I’m going to meet the Phoenix... as someone she trusts."

"She is broken," She whispered with a cold smile. "Alone. Vulnerable."

"Just like I wanted."

Then her body began to change.

Her skin shifted. Her bones moved. Her voice softened.

In just one breath, she looked exactly like Jean’s mother—kind eyes, gentle face, and a voice that felt like home.

"It’s time to bring her home..."

She stepped back, her cloak turning into wings of shadow, and vanished.

Within moments, Nafreya had shapeshifted into Jean’s mother.

And with a flash of light, she vanished—heading toward the distant cave where Jean had fallen to her knees, alone and broken.

---

Inside the cave...

Jean sat quietly against the cold stone wall, hugging her knees tightly. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and though small flames still flickered around her shoulders, her whole body felt cold and empty.

"I didn’t mean to..." she kept whispering. "I didn’t want to hurt them..."

Suddenly, soft footsteps echoed through the cave.

Jean lifted her head quickly.

A voice called out gently, "Jean... my sweet girl..."

Her eyes widened in shock.

At the entrance stood her mother—arms open, smiling softly.

"I’m here now, my love," she said kindly. "It’s okay. I’m not afraid of you."

Jean’s breath caught. "M-Mom...? How... how are you here?"

She stood up, her voice shaking. "I killed you... I saw it—I couldn’t stop it! I— I burned you!"

Nafreya, still wearing the face of Jean’s mother, stepped closer.

"No, Jean. That wasn’t real," she said gently. "It was only an illusion... a trick of your power. I wasn’t truly hurt. I’m here now, aren’t I?"

Jean’s lips trembled. "But... I saw you fall..."

Nafreya knelt before her and placed her hands on Jean’s cheeks, warm and comforting.

"You were scared. You lost control. But it wasn’t real, Jean. I’m here. I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me."

Jean’s hands dropped slowly. Her fear and confusion mixed with hope.

"You... you really came back?"

"Yes," Nafreya said, smiling softly—though behind the mask, her eyes were sharp. "I came to help you. You don’t have to be alone with this."

"I can help you control it... understand it."

Jean looked into her "mother’s" warm eyes... and slowly, she nodded.

"...Okay."

And Nafreya, hiding her true face behind kindness, whispered, "That’s right, child. Just trust me..."

She gently held Jean’s hand as they walked out of the cave.

But the world Jean stepped into wasn’t the real one.

Using her powers of illusion, Nafreya made it look like the Flame Beast Tribe—whole and peaceful, as if the attack and destruction had never happened.

Children laughed. Flames danced calmly in the torches. Familiar faces smiled and waved at Jean as they walked by.

Jean stared around, confused at first... but slowly, her heart started to believe.

"Is this... real?" she asked quietly.

Nafreya, still wearing her mother’s form, nodded with a smile. "Of course, my dear. Everything’s okay now. We’re safe here. You’re home."

And under that perfect illusion, Jean was taken into the heart of the Seth Tribe’s dark fortress—believing it was her own village.

For days, Nafreya stayed by her side. Guiding her. Talking to her. Teaching her how to "control" the Phoenix Force.

She showed Jean different methods—how to keep calm, how to focus, how to hold the flame inside.

Jean tried.

She trained hard. Meditated. Focused on her breathing, her thoughts, her emotions. And at times, it seemed like she was getting better.

But then... one day during a training session, something went wrong.

Jean flared up with power—and one of the people nearby was caught in it.

A scream. A body. Fire crackling.

Jean fell to her knees. "No... no! Not again! I killed him!"

She broke into sobs, holding her head. "I can’t do this! I’m a monster! I should’ve never been born!"

But what Jean didn’t know was—there was no real person.

It was another illusion Nafreya had crafted, perfectly shaped to push Jean deeper into guilt. The man hadn’t died. He hadn’t even existed.

Nafreya stood behind her, still in disguise, watching with quiet satisfaction.

"This is why I told you," she said gently. "That power... it’s not meant for you."

Jean looked up, tearful. "Then who? Who can hold it without hurting others?"

Nafreya crouched beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her smile was kind—but her eyes gleamed with greed.

"Someone strong. Someone who understands it. Someone who can protect the world from it... not destroy it."

Jean’s lips quivered. "Like... you?"

Nafreya nodded slowly. "Yes, child. I can help you. I can carry the flame. You don’t have to be afraid anymore."

Jean didn’t answer. But her hands trembled... and her eyes lowered.

"Ok," Jean nodded after a few minutes, flames flickering gently around her fingertips.

Her eyes were closed, face pale, as golden energy began rising from her chest—slowly drifting toward Nafreya, who stood just a few steps away with her hands raised, ready to receive it.

"Yes..." Nafreya whispered, her true form hidden behind the gentle illusion of Jean’s mother. "Just a little more... give it to me, child."

But then—

A deafening roar shook the air.

The illusion around Jean flickered like a broken dream.

In the distance, a beast charged forward—a monstrous, ancient creature, its body glowing with fire and armored scales.

It had thick legs, a powerful tail, and rows of flame-colored horns spiraling along its head. It was the Infernosaur—a legendary fire beast known for its ability to pierce any illusion and burn through lies.

On its back sat the Village Chief of the Flame Beast Tribe, his cloak whipped by the wind, and his eyes burning with rage.

"Jean! That is not your mother!" he shouted, raising his hand. "And this is not your home!"

A wave of golden fire erupted from him—and shattered the illusion completely.

Jean gasped.

The happy village vanished.

The smiles were gone.

And now, she stood in a cold, black chamber filled with shadows and sharp stone walls. Strange symbols covered the ground. And Nafreya’s true form stood before her—tall, fearsome, with glowing purple eyes and black cloak trailing like smoke.

"No... no..." Jean backed away. "You lied to me! You’re not my mother!"

Nafreya’s disguise crumbled with a hiss.

"I gave you kindness. I gave you purpose!" she shouted, her voice turning deep and monstrous.

But Jean’s hands trembled again—not from fear, but from anger.

"I trusted you!" she screamed—and the Phoenix inside her woke again.

Wings of golden fire exploded behind her.

A wave of power burst out from her body, destroying the walls of the Seth Tribe fortress. The ground cracked. Shadows burned into nothing.

The entire Seth Tribe was nearly wiped out in one moment.

Nafreya barely escaped—her body thrown into the darkness, wounded and furious.

But before Jean could burn everything down—

Her body swayed. Her eyes dimmed.

She fell forward, unconscious. The Phoenix inside her calmed... for now.

The Village Chief caught her gently in his arms.

The Infernosaur lowered its head, letting them climb.

Without another word, the chief rode back toward the Flame Beast Tribe, holding Jean close.

He looked down at her sleeping face, and whispered, "It’s not your fault, child... but now, we must protect you... and protect the world."

And the fire beast galloped into the distance.

---

The Infernosaur’s heavy footsteps echoed through the valley as the Village Chief returned.

Jean lay unconscious in his arms, her face pale, her body still glowing with faint golden fire.

As they entered the Flame Beast Tribe, warriors and beasts rushed forward.

"She’s back!"

"Chief returned!"

But the Village Chief raised his voice, firm and sharp.

"Don’t celebrate yet. Prepare the defenses!"

His voice rolled like thunder. Everyone froze.

"Seal the gates. Call every warrior. Wake every Flame Beast. Put the Sleeping Flame Powder into the healing tents, and lock the girl inside!"

Few villagers and priests appeared.

"What happened?!" Priest woman asked.

"She was tricked. Almost drained," the chief said. "It was Nafreya. She’s coming. And she won’t come alone."

"Nafreya?" Hearing that, many of the villagers were shocked.

"Yes, Nafreya. Make this tribe a fortress," the Chief said. "Tonight... we fight against her."

Jean was carried gently into the sacred chamber, where thick stone walls and fire-infused chains were sealed around her for protection. Healers wrapped her in soft firecloths, and the glowing runes under the ground hummed, calming her Phoenix power.