In the vast tapestry of existence, Herben, the world unfolds with boundless wonders and enigmatic depths, enchanting realms beyond the grasp of mortal senses. It is a realm where ethereal creatures dance upon the celestial stage, their forms aglow with luminescent hues, embodying the very essence of purity and grace. Yet, amidst this resplendent panorama, there also lurk shadows, veiled entities steeped in darkness and driven by nefarious intentions. The eternal dance of light and shadow, the eternal struggle of good and evil, shapes the very fabric of our existence.
Consider the grand symphony of moral and ethical choices that resonates throughout the cosmos, for it is in the crucible of such decisions that destinies are forged, and the fates of worlds are swayed. It is the relentless pursuit of nobility, compassion, and justice that distinguishes the virtuous souls, who emerge as beacons of hope in the face of encroaching darkness. Their unwavering dedication to upholding the pillars of righteousness illuminates the path for others to follow, inspiring even the most disillusioned hearts to rekindle the flame of their own inherent goodness.
But let us not forget the intricacies of this intricate dance, Herben. The balance between light and shadow is delicate, and the choices we make carry consequences both profound and far-reaching. In the realm of mortals, where frailty and imperfection reside, one must tread the precarious tightrope between the allure of power and the resilience of humility. The allure of power can entice even the noblest of souls, tempting them to forsake their virtues in pursuit of dominance. Yet, it is in the embrace of humility, the recognition of our own limitations and interconnectedness, that we discover the true strength that lies within us.
And what of death, Herben? It is a gateway shrouded in mystery, an enigma that haunts our mortal hearts. Yet, death is not an end, but a transition, a metamorphosis into the ethereal realms beyond our mortal coil. It is a reminder that our existence is but a fleeting moment, and the legacy we leave behind transcends the bounds of time itself. Death beckons us to ponder the significance of our choices, the mark we etch upon the tapestry of life, and the imprint we leave upon the hearts of those we encounter.
In this vast expanse of fantastical realms and moral quandaries, remember, Herben, that your path is not predetermined, but a tapestry waiting to be woven with the threads of your choices. Embrace the power of empathy, wield the sword of integrity, and let the symphony of your life resonate with purpose. For within you lies the potential to shape the destiny of worlds, to inspire others through the very essence of your being. Embark upon this grand odyssey with courage in your heart, and may your journey be one that inspires the stars themselves.
Within its expansive domain, myriad creatures traverse its landscapes, adorned with hues of brilliance or cloaked in shadow's embrace. Yet, amongst them, some harbored malevolent intentions, striving to cast the world into eternal darkness. Alas, their sinister plots were thwarted, their schemes undone. Such is the outcome of the last great conflict, fought in a time preceding your own arrival—a clash of titans wherein the Centureals and the formidable legions of Arcanath emerged triumphant. They, the paragons of a bygone era, now dwell in ethereal realms, far removed from our mortal plane.
The Centureals, an embodiment of fortitude and might, bore the weight of this struggle upon their stalwart shoulders. However, their strength alone would not have sufficed, for victory required more than mere prowess, the Kuza, the al….
"Who is this Kuza?"
Herben's eyes shimmered with a radiant curiosity as he questioned.
Atlas stood in awe, his senses overwhelmed by the astonishing revelation. Doubt crept into his mind, questioning whether Herben possessed even a glimpse of comprehension regarding the profound mystique woven within his words. Atlas himself struggled to fathom the enigmatic tapestry he had just unveiled, intricate lines carefully crafted to bewilder Herben and divert his wandering thoughts. Yet, the outcome, though unexpected, had undeniably succeeded in capturing Herben's attention.
"Ahahaha, Herben, now that your curiosity has been piqued, let us embark upon an ethereal journey. Behold, the Kuza, a revered title reserved for the chosen creatures tasked with safeguarding our realm. Only the celestial Centureals possess the authority to anoint these valiant beings. The Kuza, a paragon of unyielding might, emerges as the world's paramount guardian, a luminary burdened with immense responsibilities and deemed worthy of such an exalted title. Enigmatic souls, including mages, dwarves, and yes, even humans, have ascended to this hallowed status, their stories woven into the fabric of legend. Yet, the very first Kuza eclipsed them all, a resplendent force intertwined with the elements themselves, bending them to their will. And he was Avaloria, famous as Avaloria lin Dalariq and …"
Interrupting the flow, Herben's curiosity burst forth, his demeanor loosening as he interjected, "But, what is this Avaloria?"
Atlas paused for a moment, observing Herben's perplexed expression. With a measured tone, he sought to simplify the intricate concept for his inquisitive companion.
"Well, Herben, to distill it down, Avaloria are extraordinary beings endowed with the power to manipulate and mold the very essence of our realm. Their strength transcends human comprehension, capable of toppling mountains in mere moments, conjuring water and fire from the void. They embody profound wisdom in the arcane arts and possess an intimate connection with the enigmatic force known as Arora" Atlas elucidated, his voice carrying a hint of reverence for these majestic beings.
"If they could do anything then, were they gods?" questioned Herben, his young voice filled with curiosity and innocence.
Atlas paused in his tracks, taken aback by the profound question posed by the child. He turned to face Herben, his gaze meeting the young boy's inquisitive eyes. "Well, some individuals believed they were gods," Atlas began, his tone laced with a mix of wisdom and reflection. "But in truth, only those who walk the path of light are chosen as Kuza, revered beings with extraordinary powers. Those who succumb to the darkness are doomed and shunned by all."
The weight of their conversation began to sink in, and Atlas realized that these deep topics were not suitable for Herben's young mind. He fell silent, contemplating how a child could comprehend such profound matters and offer his own thoughts. Should he continue to enlighten and educate Herben, or should he wait for a more appropriate time? Ultimately, Atlas decided that it was essential to impart knowledge to the boy before they reached Kajban.
But for now, he simply nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the subject at hand. They continued their journey in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, awaiting the right moment for further enlightenment.
"Listen, young Herben," spoke Atlas, his voice laden with wisdom and experience. "Though you may be young and your understanding limited, the time draws near when we shall commence your teachings before we reach Kajban. It is crucial that you grasp the basics of Arora and arcane art, but let us rest for now, for we have yet a journey ahead."
As the moon waned above clouds, Atlas's keen eyes spotted a modest shelter nestled amidst nature's embrace. A protruding rock and verdant bushes beckoned, promising respite and comfort.
Though Herben had slept under the open sky on previous occasions, this night proved more difficult. It wasn't the first time he had found himself alone in the darkness, yet an unfamiliar weight pressed upon his spirit. Uncertainty seeped into his thoughts, casting a shadow of confusion over his youthful mind. The absence of his parents, their fate unknown, left him adrift in a sea of questions and a sense of longing. The world appeared muted; its colors dimmed.
With each passing hour, weariness settled upon Herben, clouding his mind and making coherent thinking a struggle. Yet, deep within him, a profound sense of disorientation remained—a yearning for purpose, the whisper of adventure, and a touch of sorrow for his parents, like an empty space within his heart.
As they reclined upon the velvety embrace of the grassy terrain, their gazes turned skyward, beholding the celestial expanse adorned with a myriad of twinkling stars. In this moment of tranquility, Atlas felt compelled to share a tale—a glimpse into the realm of Kajban, a city that thrived beyond the boundaries of mortal perception.
With a voice laden with enchantment, Atlas wove a tapestry of words, painting a vivid portrait of Kajban's resplendent grandeur. He spoke of soaring spires that reached toward the heavens, their ethereal peaks crowned with gleaming crystalline structures that captured the moon's gentle radiance. The city's streets were a labyrinthine dance of bustling activity, teeming with denizens of diverse origins, their garments a tapestry of vibrant hues and intricate designs.
As the night breeze whispered through the air, Atlas's voice transformed into a melodic cadence, and he began to sing a poem of forgotten age, a fragment from the extensive verses that praised the splendor of Kajban. His voice carried the weight of ancient melodies and the resonance of forgotten tongues.
Through the passage of days and the fleeting of nights,
Our kings and queens have faded from sight,
Ancestral echoes whispered in the wind's embrace,
Yet their essence dwells within a timeless grace.
Soon, we too shall journey into the unknown,
But as long as life courses through our very bone,
Their spirits shall endure, vibrant and strong,
Guiding us forward, a legacy lifelong.
This land, this realm, holds our sacred claim,
In Kajban's embrace, where knowledge finds its flame,
Deep within the mountain's ancient heart,
Magic and power entwined, a mystical art.
For our children's future, we shall guard and keep,
This sanctuary of wisdom, secrets buried deep,
Through the eons, our realm shall persist,
Untouched by time's cruel and relentless twist.
As long as our voices sing, as long as we strive,
Kajban's legacy shall forever survive,
A testament to our bond, unyielding and true,
Till the end of days, our realm shall imbue…
With the arrival of a new morning, a sense of anticipation stirred within Herben. As he awoke, he found himself alone, Atlas nowhere to be found. A flicker of concern danced in Herben's thoughts, wondering if they had fallen victim to an attack. After all, the perilous creatures that haunted their village had been the very reason they had never ventured beyond its boundaries. However, there were no signs of trolls or wolves, no traces of any violent encounter.
Gradually rising to his feet, Herben emerged from the shelter of the bushes and rocks. As he surveyed his surroundings, his eyes widened in awe. The landscape had undergone a profound transformation. No longer confined to a valley, he now stood in an expansive open land, where endless stretches of grass extended as far as the eye could see. The land unfolded with gentle undulations, adorned by sporadic hills and valleys. Verdant greenery enveloped the expanse, devoid of towering trees or meandering rivers. The land remained undisturbed, untouched by human interference.
In the distance, Herben's gaze was drawn to a group of horses grazing freely, liberated from the constraints of chains and human dominion. Turning his attention, he beheld the majestic sight of the towering Drakia Hills, a lush tapestry of greenery and life. Birds serenaded the air with their melodious songs, while small creatures found solace amidst the abundant trees. Amidst this idyllic scenery, Herben strained his eyes, searching for Atlas. And there, he spotted his mentor ascending the hill toward him, a burden upon his back, moving deliberately and unhurriedly.
A deep breath filled Herben's lungs as he stood still, taking a moment to appreciate the sheer beauty that surrounded him.
"Are you hungry yet?" Atlas's voice echoed across the bushes, reaching Herben's ears.
Herben responded, his voice carrying a tinge of hunger, "Yes, but what do we have to eat?"
"This beast" replied Atlas. Herben was unsure as to what it was, a cow but the size of a dog or a boar.
Atlas skillfully began to skin the beast, referring to it as a cuff. Together, they kindled a fire, and the aroma of roasting meat filled the air. Beneath the bright sun, a cool shade enveloped them, courtesy of the cold wind and drifting clouds, creating a pleasant atmosphere for their midday feast.
Herben, however, found himself eating sparingly, his appetite not fully awakened. In contrast, Atlas voraciously devoured the creature, consuming every part, from the succulent meat to the bones, even chewing on the eyes and savoring the brain. All that remained were bare bones, stripped of any remnants. Herben's astonishment grew with each passing moment. He wondered how vast Atlas's stomach must be, contemplating the mystery of his mentor's insatiable hunger.
"I have never tasted cuff before, but they are indeed delicious," Herben expressed, attempting to engage in conversation. Atlas responded with a knowing smile and encouraged him to eat, saying, "Well, enjoy your meal for now. After you eat, I shall share with you the tale of the cuffs. I was present when they were first created and when we brought them to this vast land."
Herben's mind swirled with confusion. The cuffs were made? But by whom? And how could Atlas have been there? Questions flowed through his thoughts like a rushing river. Curiosity overwhelmed him as he yearned for answers. How old was Atlas, after all?
Atlas chuckled warmly, sensing the flood of inquiries within Herben's young mind. He playfully repeated, "Eat your share, my young friend, for I have devoured mine." Though Herben's portion may not have been much, it was ample enough for him, satisfying his hunger and leaving him content.
After consuming his share, Herben, feeling slightly overwhelmed and drowsy, settled into a comfortable spot. It was in this moment that Atlas began to unveil something Herben had never known existed. With a firm grip on Herben's arm, Atlas commenced a spell, invoking the mysterious language of the Arcane Arts, foreign to Herben's ears.
To Herben's astonishment, intricate markings emerged from within his arm, emitting a soft blue glow. Captivated by this extraordinary phenomenon, he fixated his gaze on the enigmatic symbols as they gradually ascended through his body. Sensing Herben's curiosity, Atlas instructed, "Relax your body and attempt to sleep, for I cannot teach you the Art without a serene mind."
Excitement surged within Herben upon hearing the mention of the Art, an undeniable reference to The Arcane Arts. The prospect of delving into this mystical realm heightened his anticipation. Atlas reiterated, "Herben, relax," as Atlas's body began to tremble and beads of sweat formed on his brow. Understanding the importance of relaxation, Herben promptly calmed his mind and body, aided by the soothing sensation of a satiated belly. He closed his eyes, surrendering to a newfound tranquility.
Upon reopening his eyes, Herben found himself in the midst of a dark night. His body emanated a radiant glow, visible even through his garments. Slowly releasing his grasp on Herben's arms, Atlas commended him, "Well done." Overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience, Herben's body succumbed to exhaustion, causing him to faint. His journey into the world of Arcane Arts was just beginning.