The night, a time of both serenity and sin displayed a cloudless, pitch black sky. Dotted with the stars of the cosmos and the moons of different colors and sizes occupying different parts of the heavens.

In the year of 1673, the 13th day of the month of the Orc king, Langmurr, both serenity and sin was disturbed by a cry. A shout that could no less be the personified sorrow and the avatar of despair.

The entire kingdom of Geldin shook as the cry invoked a despairing grip that penetrated to the very souls in the hearts of the people.

That night was called by many as the Great Loss of the Silver Goddess, for that night the Lonely Silver Moon, the only moon that shines in silver and never approaches the others, was glowing in full.

Along with that was the burning of the entire barony of Malvert. Of which the flames rose from underground and razed both mountains and lakes along with the farms in the plains. A calamity that none escaped from, a disaster that none survived to tell the tale.

But, as the Kingdom itself kept a secret, was a spear of silver penetrating the burnt ground in the depths of the lands. And in the middle of the long, slender blade was a beating heart. The house of the soul, and bearer of destiny.

None can approach the spear, not even the Royal Great Knight Leroy Samule. The dragonborn blessed with immense strength and divine-like flames.

The vicinity was later surrounded by scholar mages that manipulated the runes and covered the whole hill from which the spear was resting.

This matter was only known amongst the high reaches of the kingdom and kept, strictly, secret to avoid the surrounding countries from finding out.

Soon, the tragedy of the weeping silvermoon was forgotten along with the passing of time.

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Piercing red pupils.

A voice that shook the calm pf the soul.

And a tone that both mocked, and pitied. 

"A man, so illustrious and kind. With a glow that brought cleansing to the darkness of people. And an immense spirit of self sacrifice. So much so that you will not even hesitate to jump to the very destruction of your soul for a single person's welfare."

The silhouette sighed.

"Is now here. Alive. Thanks to the sacrifice of tens of thousands for whom you would have, all the same, given your life for."

The silhouette stood on top of the edge of the cliff that provided the highest ground due to the slope, looking at a kneeling man with white silver hair embracing a little child that resembled him.

The kneeling man who had white, dirtied robes that were currently burning in different places, who did not move this whole time suddenly muttered incomprehensible words.

He was muttering next, then sobbing, followed by shouts that turned to a cry that pierced the night.

The silhouette spectated calmly, as if the burning lands were not his doing.

That was until the kneeling man raised his hand, looking up to the skies while shouting his despair, plunged his palm to his chest.

"Burn with me."

The kneeling man shouted, from which the silhouette responded with a panic different from his previous calm.

A silver spear.

A severed fate.

And the burning man with red pupils.

G jolted awake from his nightmare.

Panting and wiping his cold sweat he looked at his surroundings. The familiar small bed. A door facing his feet and a table to his right beside the curtained window. And to the left a half body mirror that had an extravagant design.

Remembering that night 7 years ago had passed, he calmed down.

Standing up and approaching the mirror, he swept aside his long, white silver hair and slowly unbuttoned his white shirt.

And opening it was a reflection of a 25 years old man with silver hair and dark, sunken eyes. 

In his opened shirt was a sculpted body that would have otherwise been applauded by both women and men who practiced martial arts, was a strange and terrifying sight.

In his chest, on the left where his heart should be. Was a perfectly circled hole the pierced all the way making the sight on his back visible. Strangely enough the edges inside this hole were not his ribs or lungs visible. But a pitch black darkness seemingly with no end.

He, G has long lost his beating heart.

Along with his fate.