Lumark and Thorne's footsteps echoed through the hallowed halls of Thetorah, the magnificent heart of the Norg civilization. These grand halls, an ancient amalgamation of artistry and history, exuded a timeless aura that connected the Norgs to their storied past. The lofty dome above allowed celestial light to cascade down, bestowing an ethereal glow upon the Norgs bustling below.
In the midst of this architectural wonder, a majestic statue of Zeha, the revered warlord Norg who had united the Norgs after the cataclysmic first war, stood resolute. A cascading waterfall encircled the monument, symbolizing the indomitable spirit of unity and strength that coursed through the veins of every Norg.
As Lumark and Thorne meandered through the throng of their fellow Norgs, they exchanged warm greetings and nods of camaraderie. Their senses were intoxicated by the vibrant tapestry of sights and sounds—the artisans honing their crafts, traders bartering for goods, and children playfully weaving through the crowd.
A glimmer of trepidation danced in Lumark's eyes as he recalled the clandestine encounter with the Trinity within the sacred temple of Diniir. Their enigmatic messages had cast an enigmatic shroud upon his path, leaving him grappling with the weight of destiny.
As they continued on their journey, Lumark spotted their Mami amidst the flurry of commerce, haggling skillfully with a trader over a kaleidoscope of fabrics. Her graceful presence and wise demeanor radiated a sense of familial warmth, grounding Lumark in the comfort of home.
Noting the passing time, Lumark leaned towards Thorne, entrusting him with the secret of the temple encounter. "Thorne, swear to me you won't tell Mami about what happened with the Trinity," Lumark implored, a mix of vulnerability and urgency in his voice.
Thorne nodded solemnly, promising his loyalty. "You have my word, Lumark. Your burden is ours to bear together."
With that unspoken pact, Thorne volunteered to assist Lumark in the challenging task of capturing the elusive Grosk—a rare and elusive bird-turtle hybrid creature whose feather held paramount importance for Lumark's impending bleeding ritual. Thorne's hunting prowess surpassed Lumark's, and his steadfast support bolstered Lumark's spirit.
Before long, Lumark bid farewell to Thorne, who ventured into the hunt accompanied by Satir, Unnok, and Tonni—their childhood friends who formed an inseparable bond over the years.
Alone, Lumark ascended to the pinnacle of the great house, guided by a mechanical elevator, reaching the apex that seemed to kiss the celestial heavens. This elevated space, adorned with statues and paintings celebrating the legacy of great Norg leaders and legends, imparted an aura of reverence and awe.
In this exalted chamber, an enigmatic phenomenon unfolded—the room perpetually bathed in brilliant golden flames, an inexplicable spectacle witnessed by only a select few. Twelve stoic guards, mounted like eternal sentinels, stood sentinel against the currents of time.
At the heart of this domain, Lumark sought an audience with the formidable and exacting secretary, Mrs. Nahhi. Her discerning gaze seemed to pierce through to the core of one's being, discerning identity and intent without a mere glance.
"Nahhi," Lumark greeted respectfully, his heart both intimidated and intrigued by the enigmatic woman.
Without raising her head, Nahhi acknowledged his presence with a characteristic air of authority. Lumark couldn't help but wonder if she had some mystical foresight beyond mortal comprehension, a notion his Mami playfully teased the children about.
Nahhi's no-nonsense demeanor prevailed. "What do you want, Lumark?" she inquired with a brisk efficiency that seemed to peel away all pretense.
"I seek an audience with the First Elder," Lumark replied, striving to maintain composure in Nahhi's scrutinizing presence.
"Wait here," Nahhi commanded, as Lumark settled into a contemplative silence, surrounded by the vivid tapestries of Norg Legends, their valorous exploits etched indelibly into Norg heritage.
As he awaited his audience, Lumark's heart found solace in the monumental statue of Zeha. Yet, in this moment of reflection, he couldn't escape the stark revelation brought forth by the Trinity—an ominous foretelling of his role as the harbinger of destruction.
His thoughts and emotions interwove, wrestling with the irony of his present position amidst tales of heroes and saviors who had once stood tall in this hall.
"Lumark.... Lumark..." Nahhi's voice beckoned him back to the present.
"Apologies, mam," Lumark stammered, taken aback by the depth of his introspection.
"What is wrong with you, child? I have called you twenty times!" Nahhi rebuked.
"Nothing, mam. I'm fine," Lumark replied hastily.
"You better be. You can go in now."
Entering the sacred chamber of the First Elder, Lumark passed Norg dignitaries whose conversations carried an air of gravity. Tata, the First Elder's advisor, was engrossed in a discussion before taking his leave.
"Lumark stepped into the grand chamber, feeling a mixture of awe and respect in the presence of the revered First Elder. The room exuded a sense of history, adorned with relics of the Norgs' past, and a soft glow of golden flames illuminated the space, casting an ethereal ambiance.
"Greetings, Lord Elder," Lumark offered with a deep bow, acknowledging the esteemed authority before him.
The First Elder, a figure of wisdom and strength, welcomed Lumark warmly. "Hah, Lumark, my boy, how are you?"
"I'm well, thank you, sir," Lumark replied, trying to maintain his composure, though excitement coursed through his veins.
Seated together, the First Elder leaned in, a gesture of intimacy and trust. Lumark's heart swelled with reverence for the elder, who had guided the Norgs for generations.
"Lumark, you know since the first war, we Norgs have lived within this great house for centuries upon centuries," the First Elder began, his voice tinged with the weight of history.
"Yes, sir, I do," Lumark replied respectfully.
"Have you ever been outside Norg lands before, son?" the First Elder inquired.
"Yes, once. Mami said that when I was a baby, you and she took me to the capital," Lumark recalled.
"Ahh yes, indeed. The Rha and Nerhu were very glad to have you in their arms," the First Elder reminisced.
Lumark smiled at the memory. Then, the First Elder checked his drawers and found a little findoth toy, a lion, dragon, and unicorn tribrid but the size of a lion, and placed it on his desk.
"The Nerhu gave you this," the First Elder said, his voice tinged with fondness.
"It's a findoth toy," Lumark said, taking a closer look at the small figurine.
"Ah, yes, it is indeed. I have kept this with me to always remind me of the little Norg you were, no matter how grown-up you have become," the First Elder explained, his eyes glistening with emotion.
Lumark felt a mix of gratitude and curiosity. He couldn't help but wonder why this simple toy held such significance to the First Elder.
"I... I can't remember this," Lumark confessed, his brow furrowing with puzzlement.
The First Elder's eyes twinkled with understanding. "Memories are like whispers of time, my boy. Some resurface vividly, while others fade into the recesses of the mind. Regardless, this findoth holds a special place in your journey, for it represents your roots and the path you've traveled thus far."
Feeling a rush of gratitude for the First Elder's wisdom and guidance, Lumark held the findoth In his right hand tightly. The toy seemed to carry a legacy, an unspoken message of strength and resilience or so he thought.
"Lumark, in 21 moons, you will bleed for the Norgs and be connected to our ancestry. You will become a true warrior and leader. Then one day, I will be gone, and you shall carry this mantle like I did from my father, and he from his, and he from his father before him," the First Elder said, his voice firm and full of conviction.
Lumark's heart swelled with both pride and trepidation. The weight of the responsibility that lay ahead of him felt heavy, but he was determined to embrace his destiny.
"It's time I start grooming you to be a leader," the First Elder declared.
"But, Father," Lumark said softly, "how do I know I would be a good leader?"
The First Elder leaned closer, his eyes locking into Lumark's. "Good leadership comes from the heart and soul, and you, my boy, you have a good heart and a pure soul," he said, his voice echoing the wisdom of ages.
Lumark felt a surge of hope and determination. He would give his all to become the leader his people needed.
"I have a pure soul?" Lumark asked rhetorically.
"Yes, my boy. Get ready because tomorrow we are leaving for Aqurna," the First Elder announced with a glint of excitement in his eyes.
"The capital?" Lumark exclaimed, trying to contain his excitement in the presence of the First Elder.
"Yes, indeed. You will learn much there, and it will prepare you for the challenges that lie ahead," the First Elder said with a knowing smile.
As Lumark left the First Elder's presence, the findoth toy clutched tightly in his hand, he felt a newfound sense of purpose. He knew that his journey was just beginning and that the path ahead might be filled with trials and tribulations. But he was determined to face them with courage and honor, knowing that he carried the legacy of his people in his heart.
The prospect of stepping beyond the familiar boundaries of Norg lands filled Lumark with mixed emotions—a potent blend of excitement and trepidation. With the wisdom of generations guiding him, Lumark felt an unwavering resolve to embrace his destined role.
Lumark made his way back through the E17 south wing, en route to the First Quarter where his family resided, an eerie silence befell the once-bustling hallway. The whispers of the wind reverberated like ghostly echoes in the deserted corridor.
Unease seeped into Lumark's senses and he felt something awfully familiar as cold wind carased his skin, as if an unseen force was guiding him. The symphony of life, the laughter, and the warmth had all dissipated, leaving him feeling isolated.
And then, from the stillness emerged a haunting sound, what? what was it? —an infant's cry—a poignant lamentation that seemed to pierce Lumark's very soul.
Intrigued yet fearful, Lumark followed the source of the cry to a distant corner of the hallway. There, he beheld an astonishing sight—a baby, swaddled in a golden silk cloth, possessed an otherworldly beauty. Her diamond eyes gleamed with an ethereal light, and her silver hair shimmered like stardust, she was laid in a basket.
As he walked closer to the sight of utter mystery, he didn't see it at first, but one more step he took there it was, a woman, the mother holding the infant tightly in her arms, her presence radiant yet ethereal, as if she belonged to a realm beyond comprehension. She sang a haunting melody—a song that stirred distant memories within Lumark's soul. A song he felt he should remember, yet its origin remained elusive.
'Ginora, my diamond,
Ginora, my all and all,
I will protect you, my gold,
I will love you above all.'
The enchanting lullaby hung in the air, infusing the surroundings with a surreal sense of mystique.
As Lumark inched closer to the mesmerizing scene, the woman slowly raised her head, revealing a face that struck Lumark with a profound recognition—it was the Nerhu of Alantus—the wife of the Nneurha, the very personification of supreme power in their land.
The walls began to glitch, the air tightened, and fogs slowly emerger from the ground. Amidst the flickering reality, the world around Lumark blurred and fractured, morphing into a chaotic tapestry of destruction. Flames cascaded from the heavens, the ground quaked in agony, and the moon, one of Alantus's three celestial orbs, plummeted towards the planet in a portentous display of doom.
The Nerhu's voice trembled with fear, a chilling plea for her child's safety. "Please don't let them, don't let them take my baby away," she implored, her vulnerability a stark contrast to her regal presence.
Puzzled, Lumark demanded, "Don't let who?"
In response, the Nerhu pointed towards a foreboding presence—five ethereal beings, the Trinity, stood with their eyes aglow like celestial embers, and their voices echoed ominously, uttering a single phrase that chilled Lumark's soul—"Child of Death."
Terrified and disoriented, Lumark's heart raced as reality fractured further, the boundaries of time and space dissolving in the face of unimaginable calamity.
Suddenly, the eerie vision shattered, jolting Lumark back to the present. His eyes darted around the now-familiar hallway, bustling once more with life and activity.
"Lumark...." Tulu's voice called out to him, concern etched in her eyes.
Startled, Lumark jolted back to reality, his breath labored and his body trembling. "What?!" he exclaimed in terror, his mind still haunted by the haunting vision.
"They're back, Thorne caught the Grosk," Tulu informed him, her voice infused with a mix of excitement and curiosity.
Tonni gently touched Lumark's forehead. "Are you okay? You seem cold and sweaty at the same time," she asked, her concern evident.
Struggling to regain his composure, Lumark assured them, "Yes, I am fine."
"Is that a findoth?" Tulu's said as her eyes catches the toy squeezed in Lumark's palm.
Thorne returned with their Mami, who rushed at Lumark and took him inside.
It's no news that the Nneurha has been without an heir for over a century now. Oh, how they have survived several tragedies that no parent should have, not to talk of their supremacy. The Rha has ruled these past years with fairness and equally to his strength and should have been favored with children of his own.
As Lumark delved into the labyrinthine questions that plagued his mind, the truths and mysteries ahead remained cloaked in uncertainty, awaiting their revelation in the crucible of time.