Notice: The story starts at Chapter 1. The Prologue only states what happened in the past.

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The scorching desert sun beat down upon the solitary figure, casting elongated shadows across the vast expanse of sand.

A camel trudged along faithfully, carrying its burden through the seemingly endless dunes. The traveler's face was hidden beneath the concealing depths of a dark hood, concealing their identity from prying eyes.

After what felt like an eternity, the weary wanderer's eyes caught sight of a mysterious silhouette on the horizon. An abandoned temple, long forgotten by the sands of time, beckoned to the traveler with an irresistible allure.

With a determined resolve, the figure dismounted the camel and pulled back the hood, revealing a young woman with pale hair that shimmered like the moon's glow, and piercing blue eyes that held a glimmer of ancient wisdom.

Taking a deep breath, the young woman approached the temple's entrance and pushed against the heavy doors, their creaking protest echoing through the deserted halls. As the doors gave way, a wide expanse of dilapidated grandeur unfolded before her.

Once a sanctuary teeming with life and adorned with opulent decorations, it now lay in desolation, a melancholic testament to the ravages of time.

Step by cautious step, she traversed the crumbling aisle, her gaze transfixed upon the remnants of a statue at the end of the hall. It stood tall and regal, the representation of a forgotten goddess, weathered by the passage of countless centuries.

Perched upon the statue's shoulders were two crows, their coal-black feathers a stark contrast to the decaying beauty surrounding them.

In that moment, understanding dawned upon the young woman. She realized the significance of the crows, the harbingers of ancient prophecies and secrets long buried in the sands. A sense of responsibility washed over her, intertwining with the grief that had haunted her for years.

"They have returned," she whispered, her voice carried on the desert wind, a solemn declaration to the desolate halls.

There was a war twenty years ago.

That war took my father, my mother, my homeland, everything.

The Black Sun rose in the sky, heralding destruction.

With trembling hands, the young woman reached out and placed her palm upon the worn surface of the statue, feeling the energy that pulsed beneath her touch. "You protected mankind for a thousand years. Who am I to judge? It all started with you."

"But now," she spoke softly, her voice tinged with determination, "I will be the one to finish it."

Her hood once again shrouded her features, obscuring her face from the world as she turned away from the forgotten temple. Her steps carried her back towards the desert, a resolute figure traversing the unforgiving sands with purpose. With the weight of the past and the promise of an uncertain future resting upon her shoulders, the young woman ventured forth, guided by a determination to confront the forces that had shattered her world.