Sare of the shadows was the first one. Lar the proud was the second one. Empom the prodigal was the third one. And finally there was Serin to break the circle; the four generations of dark ones.
Sare was a firstborn. He was the beginning of terror upon the Kaspera clan. His father was Khuzal. For many of the enemies of the Kaspera clan, Khuzal's fate could be seen as nothing but poetic justice. When he slowly by surely alienated with his hate and fear his own son, it was only natural that one day he would be turned against him. And when he was left as a cripple by his son's vengeful desire manifesting, there was nothing but pity for the once most powerful elemental master of Emperos.
One could say that Kaspera's guilt and fear of the curse, was what defined the result of the curse rather than the curse itself. The kaspera's demise was predetermined by Khuzal's actions. And therefore the curse was only one of the symptoms of the corrupt and power hungry elemental masters of the clan. (Sadan Gil from his book ''An Era past'')
The moon, a cold, watchful eye in the velvet cloak of night, cast an ethereal glow upon the steel of Raylee's gaze as he surveyed the ancient forest of Eldan. Its whispering boughs, once home to the legendary dragon riders, now held a different, darker presence. His steed, a magnificent ebony stallion named Midnight, snorted nervously, picking its way through the treacherous undergrowth.
"They say even their whispers echo in these trees," muttered Fylon, his gruff voice barely audible above the symphony of nocturnal creatures. The second-in-command, a grizzled veteran with scars that spoke of past battles, cast a wary glance around.
The Kaspera cavalry, an elite unit renowned for their prowess and elemental mastery, moved with practiced caution. Yet, beneath the veneer of confidence, unease gnawed at Raylee. This mission, a delicate dance with the Sarian representatives in Esperon, felt heavy with unspoken dangers. They were on the cusp of conquering Teraria. Sarian was the only danger to their flanks as their victory over the last resistance of mages would solidify their dominance. But a single misstep, a miscalculation, could unravel it all.
The Grandmaster's expectations weighed heavily on Raylee. Whispers of succession swirled around him, but his ambition lay solely with the prosperity of his clan. As they crested a moonlit hill, overlooking the verdant expanse of Eldan, a flicker of movement caught his eye.
"Fylon," he rasped, his voice low and tense, "take a few scouts and secure our flank. An unsettling feeling creeps on me. We need to reach Sarian territory unscathed."
Fylon, ever the pragmatist, raised a wry eyebrow. "And can you say the same for within Sarian territory, dear Raylee?" he smirked, turning to address the assembled squadrons.
Raylee swallowed his unease. The forest, alive with shadows and secrets, amplified his anxieties. One wrong move, and disaster could consume their recent triumph.
Fylon and his scouts disappeared into the forest, swallowed by the shadows that danced between the ancient trees. He tightened his grip on the reins, the moonlight glinting off the silver signet of his clan emblazoned on the leather. Failure wasn't just a possibility; it was a predator lurking in the dense foliage.
Just as he was about to urge the unit forward, a twig snapped to the west. The sound, barely audible, sent a cold thrill down his spine. It wasn't the playful snap of a curious squirrel, it was deliberate, calculated. He raised his hand, halting the advance. Silence descended, heavy and suffocating. The playful chirping of insects ceased, replaced by a pregnant quiet that amplified every rustle of leaves and flicker of moonlight.
"Halt!" He commanded his voice low but firm. His men, trained in the art of silent combat, dismounted with practiced ease, forming a defensive circle around him. He drew his sword, the moonlight sharpening the obsidian blade to a lethal edge. Its cold touch echoed the fear coiling in his gut.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the trees, cloaked in shadow. The figure stepped into the moonlight, revealing a young man. His smile was as dark as his hair.
"Raylee of the Kaspera," the man's voice rasped, carrying the weight of ages, "this is the end of the road for you."
Tension crackled in the air. His gut told him this man was expecting him for some time.
"Who are you, and what do you mean?" he asked, his voice steady despite the churning in his stomach.
The man's smile spread even more. "so talented and yet so unimportant."
Suddenly a few metallic flashes caught his attention in the moonlight. Raylee extended his hand to the right "FORM UP, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK".
It all went in a flash. Bodies were dropping. Light spread around the forest clearing as the Kaspera was defending their position. Shouts and clangs of metal filled the air, accompanied by the sickening squelch of flesh and bone. Panic and confusion erupted within the Kaspera ranks as arrows, tipped with an eerie dark energy, rained down from unseen assailants hidden in the canopy; the darkness was causing disruption to the elemental use of the Kaspera. Fylon and his scouting party, caught unaware in the forest depths, were the first to fall, their screams echoing through the dense foliage.
Raylee, ever the tactician, fought with the instinct of a cornered wolf. His obsidian blade imbued with the very essence of light, deflected arrows and sliced through shadows with impossible speed. But the attackers were relentless, their movements blurring in the darkness, their forms barely glimpsed before another Kaspera warrior fell.
Fear turned to desperate defiance in Raylee's eyes. He knew this was no mere ambush; it was a calculated assassination attempt fueled by an unknown enemy. Their target: him. With a roar, he unleashed a wave of radiant energy, pushing back the shadowy figures and creating a temporary respite.
"Show yourselves, cowards!" he bellowed, his voice laced with fury and despair. "Face me!"
As if in response, figures emerged from the darkness, their features obscured by dark hoods. Their eyes, however, glowed with an unnatural crimson light, emanating an aura of cold malice. Among them stood the young man from before, his chilling smile unwavering.
"Are you afraid young Kaspera master?" the dark haired man asked venomously. Raylee could feel his hatred from afar.
The battle resumed, with renewed ferocity. The Kaspera, despite their light-infused blades and valiant efforts, were overwhelmed by the sheer number and deadly precision of their shadowy assailants. Arrows, tipped with dark energy, found their mark with unerring accuracy, bypassing shields and armour, plunging the Kaspera into darkness. Their light magic, meant to illuminate and empower, sputtered and flickered against the encroaching gloom, offering little solace.
Raylee, a whirlwind of light and steel, carved a bloody path through the darkness. His blade, a beacon in the encroaching night, deflected blows and bisected attackers with impossible speed. Yet, with each fallen enemy, two more seemed to take their place, their dark energies sapping his strength and clouding his vision.
He fought blindly, desperation fuelling his movements. He saw Fylon, once his stalwart companion, fall to a flurry of dark blades, his screams echoing in Raylee's ears. He saw fear turn to despair in the eyes of his men, their light extinguished one by one.
A dark energy blast struck Raylee's shoulder, searing through his armor and sending him sprawling. Pain lanced through him, but he refused to yield. He clawed his way back to his feet, fuelled by a primal rage and a thirst for vengeance.
Renewed fighting erupted, but the tide had turned. The Kaspera, despite their valiant efforts, were outnumbered and outmatched. Their light, powerful against mages, offered little defense against the darkness that shrouded their attackers. One by one, they fell, their screams swallowed by the suffocating silence of the forest.
Raylee fought with the fury of a dying sun. Left and right enemies were circling him; he was cutting them down mercilessly. Yet, even his light grew weary, flickered on the verge of extinguishing. As the last of his comrades fell around him, he stood alone, surrounded by the chilling laughter of the young man. Raylee fell on his knees. He could hardly believe it, his comrades were all lying dead around him. Most of them were seasoned warriors and yet they were slaughtered like sheep.
"So ends the light of the Kaspera," the young man sneered, closing in on his wounded prey.
The leader loomed over him, his crimson eyes burning with cold triumph. "Your peers undoubtedly were correct. You are quite the warrior" he exclaimed, holding a blade infused with dark-energy, "but, in the end you will perish like the rest."
"Just who are you?"
And in that moment the young man manifested a dark ball of energy atop his palm. He strode confidently towards Raylee.
Raylee was bombarded with images in his childhood. He has seen an element like this before. It was part of their education. The previous generation remembered quite well what happened to the greatest elemental artist of history.
"you are one of the dark ones" he said with disbelief.
The young man chuckled sarcastically "Lar, you must have heard of me."
Raylee was speechless. He thought the dark ones were dealt with. Obviously they were lied to, because one of the greatest dangers to his clan was standing before him.
Raylee, though bleeding and broken, raised his head, his gaze meeting the crimson eyes of his executioner. In that moment, amidst the darkness and despair, a spark of defiance rekindled within him.
"You may extinguish my light," he rasped, his voice hoarse but resolute. "But the flames of the Kaspera will never truly die."
With a final burst of defiance, Raylee channelled the last remnants of his light, engulfing himself in a blinding radiance. The forest shuddered, the darkness momentarily pushed back. Then, silence. When the light faded, Lar's blade was soaked in Raylee's blood, he gasped silently. Lar removed the blade from Raylee's insides and his body hit the forest floor.
Lar's sarcastic smile was the last image on Raylee's mind.