Nexus: New World

Chapter 5: Arcane Whispers Beneath Golden Chandeliers

Chapter 5: Arcane Whispers Beneath Golden Chandeliers

---

The celebration of Elias Holloway first solar cycle unfolded with orchestral intensity—gold-threaded banners draped across spires of polished etherwood, and fireflies of enchanted crystal dancing mid-air above the gala garden. But beneath the crescendo of merriment and elegance, a wildfire of whispers had been sparked by a far more mystifying event that had taken place in the shadows of his nursery.

It had all begun in a cradle carved from lunar stone, nestled among starlight silk. There—tiny burns scorched the wall in branching tendrils, and water droplets clung like frozen tears to the corner of the ceiling. The marks were faint, but unmistakably arcane. The very air still shimmered with residual mana, and the scent of ozone lingered long after.

Panic swept the house like a plague. Layla, Lady of House Holloway and Elias’ fiercely indulgent mother, reacted as though a divine assassin had failed to smite her beloved. Maids were doubled, guards were tripled, and the Sovereign Enchanters of the Western Gate were summoned to investigate. Elias, meanwhile, was relocated to his mother’s chamber under a dome of anti-magic wards.

To him, the reaction was dramatic. But to the world, the tale had grown monstrous.

From noble salons to market stalls, the chatter was the same: a surge of elemental magic had occurred in the cradle of a one-year-old heir. Magic inspectors confirmed what Elias already knew—the source of the spellwork was singular. It had not been a ritual, not a coordinated casting by multiple mages. It was one signature. One soul. One will.

At first, Elias dismissed it. No big deal, he thought.

Then came the thunderclap of realization.

In this world, known as Arkaelion, the manipulation of more than one elemental affinity was a mark of divine favor. Two affinities granted the title of Prodigy. Three elevated a mage into the status of Saint. Four? That was legend. That was myth. That was the sacred tale told to cradle children beneath constellations—impossible, unrepeatable.

Yet here he was, a babe of one solar cycle, having cast Ember, Water Ball, Wind Blow, and Rock Throw in a single whimsical moment of curiosity.

A living myth wrapped in a blanket of sapphire silk.

Elias knew then: he had to hide his power. The Celestial Being had placed him here with all elements dancing in his blood, but revelation meant investigation. And investigation could bring dissection.

Even the AI construct known as Nexus-1, his eternal digital companion bestowed upon transmigration, warned him subtly:

[Probability of premature exposure: 97.8%. Recommended action: Obfuscation.]

So, when the magic council declared the event a natural phenomenon—perhaps a convergence of mana currents—Lady Layla shifted instantly from terror to pride. Her tone morphed from trembling horror to saccharine boasts.

“Oh, the Celestial Being has blessed my darling Elias! He is the chosen child, kissed by starlight!”

To Elias’ dismay, she repeated that line with military precision at his birthday gala. Clutching him in her diamond-laced arms, she paraded him from noble to noble like a sacred relic, beaming beneath golden chandeliers.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to leap from the stroller and cast Silence on the whole assembly. But alas, appearances must be kept. So he sat, eyes blank, expression saintly, while his mana coiled like a dragon beneath his skin.

He resumed subtle gathering—drawing elemental threads into his core while feigning the innocent slumber of a chubby-cheeked child.

And in that sleepy haze, he overheard them.

A voice, aged like casks of bloodwine, murmured behind the curtain of soft music:

“I must admit, Lady Layla, your son is quite the vision. Perhaps... we might align our families?”

“A proposal?” she asked, coy and calculating. “My, you move fast. But I’m listening…”

Beneath closed eyes, Elias’ soul flinched.

Arranged marriage before I can walk? What a cunt of a world.

…

Years unfurled like petals of a lethal orchid. Elias now stood at the age of five solar cycles—tall for his years, his features a portrait of divine symmetry. Hair spun from golden cometfire cascaded down his brow, and his eyes reflected the calculating steel of Bob, his elusive father.

He raised his palm before the obsidian mirror and summoned mana.

A roaring sphere of water exploded into form—larger than his head, rippling with power. The very mana threads within him now surged like rivers through carved canals. In a single whisper of will, he could fill a bath or flood a chamber. He could command water to twist like serpents, dance like silk, cleanse or crush.

But restraint was law.

He shifted the water’s shape into a soap bubble, then collapsed it with a flicker. No one must see. Not yet.

“Young master Elias, I’m entering!” called Bernice, one of his ever-doting maids, as she stepped into the room with a heavy iron bucket.

She was dutiful. Beautiful. And hopelessly inefficient.

Elias sighed, rolling his eyes as the first bucket of well-water sloshed into the empty tub.

“So fucking medieval…” he muttered.

This was the worst part of noble life—manual bath time. Five times she would walk to the sacred well and return with a pail, just so he could have a lukewarm soak. In his previous life, faucets existed—machines that summoned hot water on command.

If only he knew how they worked…

[Would you like to d******d knowledge on faucet mechanics?] came the divine voice of Nexus-1.

Elias froze. “Wait—you can do that?”

[Affirmative. Now transmitting schematic files: Residential Hydraulic Dispenser, Variant 3. Status: Simplified.]

A storm of data surged into his mind—valves, levers, pressure pumps, gravity-fed systems. Metal, rubber, stone substitutes. Within seconds, he understood everything.

“I can build this,” he whispered, awestruck. “I can fucking build this.”

[Would you like step-by-step construction instructions using current-world materials?]

“Yes. Yes, Nexus-1. Give me everything.”