Finally dear reader, we arrive in a snowy village where our dear Aramis currently resides. A little background is needed to understand how Aramis found himself passed out on the cobblestone steps outside a dingy bar, an empty bottle of whiskey in hand.
First, let's talk a bit about his past. Aramis Morricone had been one of the only living individuals to have ever wielded the magic of the Sun. The Chosen Ones of Eos, the peak of what humans were capable of in all of this world's history. Anyone who wielded that kind of power became Kings or Kingmakers, and Aramis was well on his way of becoming somebody great.
Even among the only wielders of this magic, he stood out. By age 5, he had defeated the greatest warriors of the Human Realm. By age 10, he had been chosen as the next Royal Prospect of Baelforth. This was a position granted to those who would create a better future due to their overwhelming potential to surpass the generations before them. Even the Church of Eos gave their support and became Aramis' top sponsor in his rise.
Some even said he had the latent talent comparable to deceased King ( yes that is his name, a bit peculiar but I suppose it was more than fitting ). The man who united all the Three Kingdoms of the Human Realm, driving back the Beasts of Teras and bringing peace to all of humanity. Aramis was meant to be the next best thing. The greatest of them all.
But of course, I'm sure you well know, none of that ever happened.
Tragedy struck the young boy just when as he was reaching his peak. No one truly knew the reason behind why that deadly disease struck him but people had their theories.
The Curse of Nyx, the disease that ate away at the Trees of Life.
Some said Eos turned her back on him, removing the powers that she had once granted him. He had committed a grave sin and she would not forgive him for it.
Some said it was Nyx, the Goddess of the Night, who could not see another mage as powerful as King rise to power and possibly endanger her people like the last time. Knowing her personally, I would have to tend to disagree on this one. She'd rather him reach his potential so she may break him down when he's at his strongest.
However, the most popular theory was that he had made a few too many enemies. Imagine a boy who rose to such fame and power, not yet matured but granted authority second only to the Crown. Aramis had been an arrogant child because he knew his worth. He would have made enemies without even knowing it, and those enemies perhaps thought it would have been better if they got rid of him sooner rather than later.
That disease stripped him of his great power, the magic of the Sun extinguished in a blink of an eye. Aramis was simply a distant relative of the throne. Without his strength, he was useless to the Throne.
He was belittled, humiliated and finally cast out of the Capital by order of the Royal Court. The Church of Eos withdrew all the support they once provided. The people could not care less, simply a fad that had died out before it could become something truly meaningful.
To the ones who stood up for him, he would always be thankful. But their efforts were never enough.
Aramis Morricone found himself being banished to the Village of the Lost. This was a faraway place, right on the edge of the Human Realms. The weather was brutal, a cold expanse of land where the sun did rarely shone. It reminded Aramis of the North and he hated it.
But why had been sent to the Lost, you may be wondering? It wasn't his fault that he'd been dealt a bad hand and he was still of noble blood. He could have just retired in the countryside and lived out a mediocre existence till the end of his days.
But he'd lost his magic. See, the Village of the Lost was not any normal town. Human society in this world had a unique social hierarchy. The nobles were not decided simply by the blood that ran through their blood but because the magic that their bloodline carried was considered more powerful than the rest. The Royals? They all carry power far above the norm.
Magic was power. It was the basis and the foundation of the Human Realms. It was not just because people looked down on people who could not wield magic ( they did ) but because one could not live in a city that depended so heavily on it.
The Village of the Lost was not a city of criminals or outlaws. It was a city of unwanteds. The ones whose Life Trees no longer grow, the source of an individual's magic. The source of an individual's identity. They did not have that. They were Lost and Aramis had become one of them.
When he first arrived in the Lost, Aramis had tried his absolute best to be hopeful. He put on a brave face and trusted that things would be fine, that things would get better. He held onto the delusion that his magic would return and soon he would be invited back to the Capital.
Five years had past since then and now that you know a bit about his past, we now return to the present; where a drunken Aramis, fifteen years of age, lay in his boxers on the cold icy steps in front of a bar. This was the boy who would become the greatest king in humanity's history.
This is the start of his story.