"Even such will, such wholeness separated, in the end... under merciless inescapable time, even this would vane and fade... the name you were so proud of... kid...it will really disappear..."
"And this 'time'... Ah, and so, I shall tell a tale, a story... another one, this life...
In the land of Veridia, a realm where the boundaries between everyday life and magical myths are blurred.
On a stormy night, amidst thunder and lightning, in the remote village of Havenbrook, a child was born to humble farmers Roderick and Elara.
They named him Lorian, unaware of anything that might deny it... The storm's fury seemed to calm the moment Lorian took his first breath, almost like a sign that the forces of nature recognized his significance.
'I... remember... still...' Thoughts that might not have been accurate... hmh, something more fitting, maybe, wishful thinking?
Lorian grew up in a loving household, and sadly or not, who knows, the gentle yet still just as eventful everyday life slowly overshadowed the fading thoughts.
Anyway, through the years, he learned the ways of the land from his father and the gentle arts of every day from his mother.
However, nothing truly lasts forever, especially happy times. His idyllic life was shattered as a plague swept through the village.
Tough magic and legendary stories were heard of just as every day, sadly those stories were left for the cities and kingdoms, a village forgotten on the edge of the world, what did it matter really, nothing to those heroes, they had to save the world...
Let's not divert too much. Just like any older folks would be claimed, the plague took the lives of his parents too, leaving Lorian orphaned at the age of ten.
Alone and grieving, young Lorian was taken in by the village healer, an old woman named Meridia.
Desperate and emotionally wrecked, he witnessed her abilities amidst such hardships, making him turn to learning, both her healing and magic. Under Meridia's tutelage, Lorian discovered his latent magical abilities.
Hoh... maybe he was also a hero? As his power was raw and potent, these thoughts came... and also as he trained, flashes of memories came to him in dreams—visions of battles fought both won and lost, of faces... comrades and loved ones?
These memories were hazy but persistent, urging him to prepare for the challenges ahead yet to be seen.
As Lorian entered his fifteenth year, one day, a stranger arrived in Havenbrook, a charming and charismatic sorcerer named Darius.
Lorian was drawn to him and his presence. Also, the stranger was very friendly, making them quickly befriend each other, and under his mentorship, Lorian's powers grew even stronger.
Darius taught him the art of combat, the secrets of ancient spells, and the importance of cunning. Lorian trusted him completely, seeing in Darius the father he had lost and the brother he never had.
But just like many, Darius had his own dark secrets. He was a warlock, an agent of the darkness, the darkness Lorian also possessed deep within.
Unbeknownst to Lorian, Darius had recognized the marks of the dark on him and sought to harness his power for his own ends.
The moment of betrayal came suddenly. During a ritual meant to amplify Lorian's powers, Darius revealed his true intentions.
"You are a tool, Lorian, a vessel of power reborn. And now, you will serve me."
Horrified and betrayed, Lorian fought back with all his might, but Darius was prepared. Using a spell of binding, Darius immobilized Lorian and, with a twisted smile, drove a cursed blade into his heart.
"Your power is mine," Darius whispered as Lorian's life ebbed away.
As cold and darkness closed in, Lorian's memories surged. He saw the faces of those he had loved and lost, the battles fought, the sacrifices made. The pain of betrayal cut deep, but even more, the thought that he had failed... again... but within that agony, he felt the spark of defiance burn even more.
'I... this is not... the end... I... am... still...' This would not be his end yet still.
In a final act of unbroken will, Lorian unleashed a torrent of magic, shattering the ritual and sending Darius reeling.
The explosion of energy consumed the room, and when the light faded, Lorian's body was gone, leaving behind a charred circle on the floor.
And so, the tale of Lorian, the boy betrayed by a trusted friend... a father... it ended there..."
...
"Honestly, I am fascinated. Not many would stay so strong for so long... also using that ability's price as an edge? Quite a clever move... but even cleverness has its end, don't you think, boy?"
'...' Thankfully, after a long time... the voice was no longer as chaotic, but sadly the boy was still like a crumbled paper, only holding his legs covering even from the winds of the voices.
'Clever... I am...' Yet, to answer the friendly voice, he still spoke up.
"Hahah, you lost everything, yet none of that arrogance, even in such a state, so funny, let us hear more, tell me more, I will tell you more, so when you wake up, tell me more too, boy..."
...
In the enchanted kingdom of Draconis, where dragons soared through the skies and magic was woven into the land itself, a prophecy foretold the return of a legendary soul.
This soul, once a mighty protector of The Realms, would be reincarnated in times of dire need, destined to rise and confront the encroaching peril.
On a serene night under a crescent moon, a child was born to the royal family of Draconis. King Thalion and Queen Seraphina named their daughter Lyra.
Her birth was celebrated with grand festivities as the kingdom rejoiced at the arrival of the new princess.
Little did they know... Lyra carried within her the spirit of an ancient thing.
As Lyra grew, her innate magical abilities began to manifest. She had an extraordinary talent for communicating with dragons, a gift that had been lost for generations.
Her parents, recognizing her unique power, sought the guidance of the kingdom's greatest sorcerer, Grand Mage Elandor, to train her.
Under Master Elandor's watchful eye, Lyra blossomed into a formidable mage and dragon rider. She formed an unbreakable bond with a young but nonetheless majestic silver dragon named Arion, and together, they became a symbol of hope for the kingdom.
However, not everything was joy and laughter. Lyra's dreams were haunted by visions...
Glimpses of battles fought, kingdoms saved, and betrayals suffered. As Lyra approached her thirtieth year of age, markings of her past, faint scars on her wrists, neck, and ankles grew more pronounced.
One day, not long after the markings appeared, Master Elandor revealed the ancient prophecy's hidden part to Lyra.
It spoke of a great darkness that would rise and threaten to consume Draconis and of the hero who would stand against it.
Lyra felt a deep sense of foreboding, knowing that the prophecy referred to her... but maybe not as she foresaw.
Unbeknownst to Lyra, Master Elandor harbored a secret. Through his research, he had been enlightened by a revelation about the thing he claimed to fight...
Realizing such, believing in the epiphany more than his own eyes, he sought to end the dark before it was truly born.
...
During a grand ceremony meant to honor Lyra's incredible achievements... that happened right when her parents were in a faraway kingdom...
Standing on the castle's grand balcony, the world itself shimmered with light, the plaza filled with the noise of celebration, Lyra stood at the center, basking in the love of the people she had saved -- the people's roars echoing, hands reaching up towards her, eyes shimmering shining brighter than the high noon sun.
Amid the chant, Grand Mage Elandor stepped forward, his voice warm and familiar. "A gift of protection for our kingdom's hero."
His hand stretched out, and without warning, the spell's magic coiled around Lyra like chains, visible to every onlooker.
"...?!" Lyra gasped as her strength ebbed, her bond with Arion severed in a heartbeat. The floor seemed to crumble beneath her feet, and she collapsed, powerless. Even the crowd below froze in stunned silence.
Elandor's mask of kindness twisted into a sneer. "Did you really believe your lies would last? A monster pretending to be our... THE PEOPLE'S SAVIOR? Your power is mine, and your charade ends now witch!"
Lyra's breath hitched. "Why...? What..." His words... actions... sudden and painful, she was yet still thinking this -- all of this was just a joke... but his tone... his words slashed deeper than any blade.
"Why... what..." She heard him, yet she still asked, her voice cracked, desperate, but Elandor's contemptuous gaze was uncasing, piercing her heart as only silence came.
Silence, a rather short yet strangely long wordless world. So deafening, but all this, it just needed one little push- "What... what's happening..." ...one low voice breaking it...
"What's... happening...?" The peasants, the nobles, and all the people watching were shaken.
"Did... did Elandor betrey us?"
"No! That would never happen. Sir Elandor is an eternal savior!"
"Th-Then... did Princess Lyra..."
"How could you say such presumptions thing about the Princess!?"
"What is even happening here?" The confusion quickly turned into misunderstandings, anger, and rage, screams flared up...In such situations, emotions and actions easily become uncontrollable.
People were screaming at each other, friends, frustrated, turning to each other for answers, more and more people speaking up, screaming, pushing, fighting... total chaos unfolded in mere moments.
'They... the people... I have to help them... they might hurt themselves...' Even as she kneeled powerless, hearing the people, her desperation deepened, wanting to help them even still... but she couldn't even help herself now.
"This witch! She was just trying to deceive us!"
'...!?' Lyra's eyes shook... A single sentence, some don't understand how much that can really mean... how easily it can destroy someone's dreams and hopes, even their view on life.
"No! The princess saved our whole village, it must be that Elendor bastard!"
"Hah, what could you know, pasant! Sir Elendor is the savior of the people! That girl is just a youngling pretending to be a hero!"
'...' She wanted to help, but hearing the people... hearing the exact voices that were praising her every time she walked by them and even just a moment ago too -- so quickly turn against her, her head lowered in silence...
"Hmh..." Almost like a triumphant hum, Elendor raised his head, casting a magic so everyone could hear him. "People of Dracon..." But his speech was cut rather short...
Arion, sensing Lyra's distress, roared above the castle, his fury shattering the spell that was supposed to bind him too, and with a terrifying cry, the dragon nosedived down, unleashing a precise storm of fire at the man to protect his rider.
Glancing up, Elandor just hummed again. He had long since learned everything about Lyra and this worm of hers, and he was ready.
With an easy wave of his hand, he redirected the flames... toward none other than Lyra herself.
Not even being able to react, the flames crashed down onto her, with such power that they easily tore off the outer part of the magically fortified balcony...
As the flames crashed into the ground, the people scattered out, the crowd recoiling in fear, words of confusion and chaos bursting out even more- even louder.
The crackling sound of burning flash sent shivers down the spines of people... a disgusting burning smell... screams echoed...
But something was strange...
The voices were loud, but some, including Elendor, did notice... not a single one came from the flames...
At this moment, the dragon, Arion, descended, pushing the people even further, his wings circling around the raging flames... but in that same move, the whole of the young dragon froze still.
Fear? This question appeared in everyone's mind, not because they looked at the slightly shaking dragon but because of their own feelings—fear. They were shaking in fear.
"S-so... you finally revealed yourself!?" Elender wanted to ask in a steady tone, but even his seemed uncontrollable for a moment.
And as no answer came, no one moved, no one spoke more, the great chaos and loud voices just moments ago seemed not even to have happened.
'Uh?' The silence was loud, but their minds were chaotic, as now, just now, another feeling, a rather warm one, appeared.
'What is this feeling of safety...?' They must have asked... but their minds couldn't be tied even to that, all the gazes sifted, only focusing on one thing...
'Black...'
'White...'
'Harmony...'
'Chaos...'
People might believe that only the flame's colors had changed somehow... but how could they know any better...
It was true. The only apparent difference was that black-and-white flames burned just where the dragon fire was before.