Before every beginning, comes the ultimate truth. Before knowledge, comes what is made of it. Every war has a beginning and every truth has its consequences.
"The night was deathly, the air was too thin. A bolt of lightning zapped in the rain, revealing a man in the darkness; the great King Zeno. He roared into the sky, holding the corpse of his wife in his arms, "RAAAAAGH!". The veins of his neck bulged as he stood open-mouthed, in anger. His sorrow could be seen in his eyes. That was the day, he vowed to take revenge against the Gods.
He took arms and lashed at his slave subjects in the palace. With every passing second, men, women and children died. The terror had spread to the masses; the King had gone mad.
After a thousand had died by his bloodied scimitars, as he began to run out of breath, the people held their weapons against the Mad King. However, even the ten thousand blades of the people were unmatched to the King's fury. A whole kingdom, annihilated, by what was, a single man.
With all that had come to pass, the King's arms grew purple with the numbness, and his eyes dripped blood that dissolved in the water of the rain. And so, 'the Mourning' began.
No kingdom was left untouched, and no being was left to live in his presence. The Mad King Zeno had left the people to rot, and with it, his mind. His only objective was to kill; kill, until he could face the pantheon of Gods.
With time, as his enemies grew stronger, so did his abilities; he grew horns atop his head, his pale skin turned black with the clotted blood, and his eyes became as red as the Sun. He became a demon. With this ascension, he realized there was no human who could pose a challenge, and so, he began roaming the Underworld for more power.
The first Demon's territory he faced, was a fallen God. With the deaths of his masses, Dolor, the Demon God stepped in front of him. It is said that the battle lasted generations, and that once it was complete, the Mad King had lost, and was caged by the bars of the Underworld.
"Every 500 years, he shall rise once again, to cleanse this Earth of filth.", that is the task that was given to him by the Demon God. And so, who was once known as the great King Zeno, became the Demon King.
But, that is all just a myth.", said the old bard in his deep yet pleasantly clear voice as he shut the book.
The Prince was eagerly listening to the storyteller's words, and wanted to hear more. However, it was time for him to sleep. The black-haired, brown-eyed boy shifted his body under his fluffy, fur blanket and looked at the ceiling. The boy's nature was quiet and his thoughts ran in the fantasy of the bard's stories.
After all, Rega, the Kingdom's bard, was known to be one of the best at his job. He had read stories for the current King, and was now reading them for the Kingdom's Prince.
Rega stepped out of his rocking, wooden chair and walked out of the room. As the sound of the clomping of his boots diminished, the Prince held his right hand up above him, "One day, I will cure your sorrow."
With this vow, a great saga had begun; but now, this was merely a statement. There were 20 more years for the Demon King to supposedly rise, and the boy was merely 10. Meanwhile, a man was summoned in the palace halls. A man the Kingdom would recognize as their hero.