PART ONE: CONDEMNED TO BE FORGOTTEN
"Excerpt from the Journals of the Arch-Wizard Allendra Cahosse, the beginning of Summer, 1469."
My heart aches for my family, ensnared in a web of deceit and cunning. As I pen these words, I hope this journal will serve as a testament to my solemn vow to honor your ill-fated destiny. Until the day of reckoning, I shall carry your memory with me...
Unlike other mortals, I possess an eidetic memory, cursed with an endless stream of recollections. This burden was bestowed upon me at birth, or perhaps even earlier, and I can still vividly recall the day my mother died and my father's descent into madness, as if it were but yesterday. No matter how deep I bury these memories, they remain ever-present in the labyrinthine halls of my mind palace.
To escape the shadows of my past, I must draw the curtains one by one, and each revealing brings me one step closer to freedom. If only someone had explained to them how my family fell apart only three years after my father's return from the war...
At the tender age of seven, I extracted fragments of information from my aunt's fragile mind, but even then, she held back some secrets that I had to wrest from her. In my youthful impatience, I was too brutal, and her fragmentary memories now seem like mere pale footprints of the dark entity that still hunts me.
Before you learn of my birth, let me reveal the web of conspiracy into which I was born. Only when all the enigmas are unveiled will this story unfold into something more. The rest, my dear family, is history…
Nestled at the foothills of the Northern Rainbow Mountain Range, Anthedia, the city of my birth, stood as the Empire's last bastion, a vital supply station in the grand campaign to conquer the distant continent of Dunhar. My father, Alexander, hailed from the founding family of Cahosse, one of Anthedia's quaint hamlets.
Although my father was the sole heir to the Cahosse legacy, he chose to swear fealty to Illuen D'Harven, one of the three potentates who had grandiose plans to reign over the realm. As a knight-captain, he rose to become a valiant champion in the early years of the Gods' Will Campaigns, a series of wars that erupted in the spring of 1448 with the audacious goal of conquering the entire world. Alexander fought with unwavering resolve in countless battles, displaying exceptional prowess in the ranks of the One Command Empire's army. His feats of valor, however, came at a terrible cost - a limp leg that would forever mark his physical form. In 1451, he was awarded a substantial war indemnity and honorably discharged from service.
It was a fateful encounter that changed the course of his life. A necromancer assassin, delegated by the Archmage or even by the Awyrgad (The Cursed One) himself, had attacked him at the edge of a cliff. The dark magic forever altered the way he walked and lived his life. After retiring from service, Alexander sought out the best healers and Orion priests, renowned for their mastery of the art of curses. Despite their best efforts, the magical imprint on his leg remained like a cursed mark, impeding his muscle usage and causing him excruciating pain on most days. The curse was cast by a very powerful wizard, leaving my father to suffer the consequences for the rest of his days.
In only two years upon my father's return from the war, the Cahosse Mansion, once a lively haven for extravagant revelries, began to wither away into a desolate shell. It was during these extravagant parties that my father, Alexander, and my mother, Aleyna, had first met. After their union, they continued to host these galas, a gaudy display of wealth and status that had come to define the Cahosse family's existence. But everything changed when they discovered that my mother was carrying a child.
Suddenly, the façade of glamour and prosperity crumbled, revealing the grim reality of their situation. My father's business ventures plummeted, but it was the torment of his post-war traumas that consumed his mind. As the gestation period progressed, his nightmares grew more frequent, and he became increasingly tormented by visions of a dark future. In his sleep, he witnessed the shadowy figure of the wizard who had maimed him, cackling with delight as he transformed the unborn baby into a grotesque fiend. Every time my father stirred from these waking nightmares, his leg writhed with agony.
It wasn't until much later that I came to understand the true nature of my father's afflictions. He was the victim of a vile curse, a hex that had been cast upon him with ruthless precision. And the hand that wielded this malevolent magic belonged to none other than our family's most trusted confidant.
Poor, naive Alexander Cahosse had always willed to atone for his beloved wife and child's well-being. If he had only known what was to happen on that fateful night, would he still have allowed my birth?
Had my father known of my mother's past transgressions, committed to protecting herself and my aunt, he would have surely shunned them both from the outset. But this is a story for another time, one that only my aunt can recount when the moment is right.
I later discovered these events, which took place before my birth, from my aunt Leandra, who shared some willingly, while others I had to pry from her mind by force. Admittedly, she was at fault for some, but for the rest, she was wholly unaware of.
Nonetheless, I am certain that the Archmage commanded by The Awyrgad (The Cursed One) was the prime instigator of this tragedy. I vow on my life that I will one day hold these two deceitful evils accountable, who deftly manipulate an army of puppets, moving them ever closer to me. But first, I must rid myself of the malevolent entity that drains my strength.
The journey ahead will be arduous and challenging, but I pledge my life to one day avenge myself upon the most wicked of adversaries.
Until the day of reckoning arrives, I shall remain ever vigilant. Until that fateful day, I shall ready myself...