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Cry of Nostalgia

Crimsnd
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Synopsis
A boy born into a family of nobles, in a world where magic and power is might and those without either will be trampled over by the strong.
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Chapter 1 - Prologue

**The prologue is just establishing the start of the story. You can skip it if you'd like**

Hatred, anger, and fear.

These emotions, as well as an insatiable hunger for revenge possessed him, which willed him to live for another second. And another. And another. He needed to find a new body before he is forced to free his desperate grasp onto life.

A wave of hatred washed over him again, but revenge is a luxury too expensive to afford, especially right now. After all, he barely escaped with his life. The snow crunched underneath the creature and left a trail of crimson red as he pulled himself with whats left of a mangled arm closer, towards a faint trace of mana. The creature kept crawling through the dense forest, disgusted at his pathetic state.

Flashbacks of the battle not moments ago suddenly flooded him. He saw himself, amongst that chaos and reminiscing of the power, and the freedoms that it brings. He experienced again, the euphoria of killing and the sounds of begging and despair. He saw the one, that left him in this pitiful position. Hatred washed over him.

After what felt like an eternity of searching, he found the source. It came from a large, wooden carriage pulled by two muscular horses. Desperate, the creature crawled inside and found a boy, with hair and skin whiter than snow, dressed formally with a lion's crest on every piece of his attire, and in a deep sleep.

"Alright, we've got all the luggage. Driver, lets go on," came a man's voice from outside

"Right sir."

"Try not to wake Sirius," spoke a feminine voice.

Startled, the creature made its decision.

Without warning, the man halted as a shiver of fear ran down his spine.

"Stop!" the man's booming voice shouted at the carriage "Who's there! Show yourself!"

He drew his sword and slowly approached the carriage. It was the most ominous aura he had ever felt. As the man's footsteps crunched in the snow, the sound echoed through the forest within the deafening silence. His hands trembling, the man walked inside, finding only a boy, unperturbed by the noise.

"...There's no one there except Sirius, father, you must be tired." The feminine voice replied nervously.

"...I thought...but... you're right, I need some rest."

After boarding the carriage, the man poured himself some brandy. Although he could not feel it anymore, the man could not get rid of the suspicion, that the ominous aura he had just felt still remained. With his shaking hands, he put the glass to his lips and drank, hoping to wash away that horrible sensation with alcohol.