"Excerpt from the Chronicles of Three Great Gods, 13th day of Autumn's End, 1454."
Illuthar, the foremost haven and final sanctuary for the free people of Aerkha, braced itself for the onset of winter. Another day, another fight for Orion was drawing to a close.
As the sun's radiance dissipated into the moonless, starless sky at the end of a frigid, gusty autumn afternoon, it was nearly time for yet another night, another battle for Therion.
Demian watched in solemn silence as the inevitable scene played out, turning the wheels of fate in this ultimate cycle.
* * *
As the storm raged on outside, a murky and ominous recollection stirred within Alexander Cahosse, a retired knight who resided in his mansion at the eastern edge of Anthedia, the northernmost city of Illuthar. Through the narrow slits of his barred window, he watched as the heavens unleashed their wrath, unleashing a torrent of rain and lightning that foretold of a tumultuous night ahead.
But for Alex, the storm had a more profound significance. It evoked the memories of the war, the grim and shadowy epoch he had hoped to banish from his mind. He could still feel the dampness of the rain that had fallen on the day he was cursed and wounded, and the memory of the black-robed wizard who had cast the curse spell still haunted him, like a specter lurking in the shadows.
As he pondered these fragmented memories, the storm grew in ferocity, rattling the window panes and shaking the foundations of his mansion. But eventually, the storm abated, and the memories faded away like smoke in the wind.
After retiring from his illustrious career as a knight, Alex had returned to his hometown, where he had lived for the past three years. But the man who had once been hailed as a war hero was now a mere shadow of his former self, an ordinary nobleman and a once-prosperous merchant, struggling to come to terms with the horrors of his past.
Alex cast a bitter smile as he looked behind him. His beloved wife, Alleyna, was writhing in pain, her body contorted with the agony of childbirth. He walked over to her and tenderly wiped the sweat from her face with a damp cloth.
Despite her severe fever, Alleyna endured the pain with admirable fortitude, but it was rapidly escalating beyond her control.
Alex worriedly pondered the whereabouts of Alleyna's twin, Leandra. She had departed hours ago to fetch a specialized midwife for her sister's delivery, and time seemed to crawl by ever so slowly. As the moments passed, Alex's apprehension swelled. The man made up his mind that he must search for Leandra, even if it meant braving the inclement weather alone. Limping from the room, he stepped out into the empty, chilly corridor.
The wide hallway had once been adorned with an array of exquisite art pieces, from sculptures and reliefs to paintings. However, most of them had been sold for a pittance. Alex's thoughts turned to the God of Light, Orion, as they had done for the past nine months. He silently implored Orion, pleading for forgiveness for his wife and child, and offering himself up in their stead.
Alex descended the bifurcated stairs with a slow and cautious gait, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall. He headed towards the grand entrance, where a solitary candle flickered in the massive chandelier that hung from the high ceiling.
The dim light cast deep shadows in the corners of the anteroom, and Alex thought he saw some movement in the darkness as if the mansion was besieged by creatures lurking in the shadows. He shivered as he felt a sinister presence creeping up behind him, whispering, growling, and rustling in the stillness of the night. But somehow, he managed to dismiss it, deciding that his tired mind playing tricks on him. The Cahosse family was no longer wealthy enough to afford servants, so there was no one else in the mansion except him and his wife.
Just as he reached the foot of the stairs, a loud pounding on the massive double doors startled him. The incessant knocking reverberated through the mansion, punctuated by bright flashes of lightning that illuminated the entrance hall.
"Speaking of the devil, Leandra must have finally arrived," grumbled Alex as he limped towards the door, his heart pounding in his chest.
As Alex swung open one half of the double door, a barrage of raindrops and flashes of successive lightning rushed at him, led by the howling wind. Dazzled and drenched, he struggled to see who stood in the doorway. The deafening rumble of the lightning was like a strange and chaotic melody, reminiscent of snare drum beats, almost like a cacophony.
Alex was startled, looking at the person in front of him with a confused expression. An unexpected guest, dressed in a dark gray cloak and a gray hooded hat, stood before him. The tall, round-faced old man had a fluffy white beard and long wavy hair that fell over his shoulders, and countless wrinkles on his smiling face, especially on his broad and puffy cheeks. The long, curved cane he carried resembled a magic staff, and Alex suspected that the old man was a wizard, which made him hate him even more.
Although the old man's sudden appearance at the door startled him, a faint, deep voice inside Alex whispered that the old man was there to help. It had been a long time since he had heard his inner voice. The retired knight wanted to trust his instincts. He took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and asked in a stern tone, "Who are you, old man?"
The stranger removed his hat and gave a short salute, revealing a sparsely-haired head with numerous spots.
"Greetings, Sir Alexander Cahosse. I am Elaphar Sarcastic, a wandering sage, healer, and herbalist. In many lands, I am also known as the Sandman. I have come for the birth, sir. You must be expecting me," he said, introducing himself warmly.
"Leandra sent you?" Alex inquired.
The old man simply nodded serenely, waiting to be invited in.
Lightning struck one after the other, dazzling Alex's bloodshot eyes. He lowered his head, trembling with fear, anxiety, and insomnia that had slowly eroded his mind. He struggled to think straight, trying to stand upright despite the wheel of fate turning against him for so long. The right decisions were long behind him, and he was half-aware that he was walking a dark road built on mistakes.
"Where is Leandra?" Alex asked the unexpected guest, studying his face with half-asleep eyes.
The old sage smiled warmly, a halo of pure light shining over his face and body. It contrasted with the darkness surrounding the house and gave Alex a sense of relief.
Suddenly, a roar of thunder accompanied by a cry of pain from upstairs shook the mansion, creating a new cacophony. The ragged notes scratched at Alex's mind and soul, and his wife's moan of pain was the last straw. He was on the brink of collapsing.
"Please come in," Alex greeted the old sage, just as he was about to fall, unable to bear the sudden, severe pain in his left leg.
With an agility unexpected for his age, Elaphar grabbed Alex, who was fainting from the pain, and lifted him into a hug with a surprising strength.
"You have endured your ordeal with true fortitude, honorable knight. I wish I had noticed your helpless struggle sooner," he whispered as if speaking to a conscious man.
As Elaphar ascended the staircase, he carefully cradled the young man in his arms, gently placing him onto a comfortable brown leather armchair beside the woman lying in the bed. The sage then proceeded to examine the woman's condition, his experienced hands deftly checking her pulse and breathing. As if in response to the calming presence of the healer, the tumultuous storm outside gradually subsided, the once-raging rain now reduced to a tranquil drizzle akin to a contented feline's purr.