"Welkin, trouble sleeping again?" My father, Garrick Silverhelm, asked me in the middle of the night. He was a handsome man in his mid-30s with pearl-white hair and ice-blue eyes, the current Lord of the Silverhelm Family, and the 3rd Duke of the Arson Kingdom.
I nodded, knowing he always had fascinating stories to tell.
"Want to hear a story?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
"Yes, please!" I responded eagerly, anticipation buzzing through me.
"What do you think, Welkin? How did this world with Mana and magic come to be?" he began.
I shook my head, eager to hear his explanation.
"You know there was nothing like Mana and magic 500 years ago. It all started when a star split into seven different pieces and fell from the sky, hitting the surface of Grofal. The shockwave reached every corner of Grofal. It was a chaotic day; the cities where the star pieces landed were decimated, and not a single soul survived."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in.
"After a few months, things started to settle down. That was when the second anomaly began. Newborns started to exhibit animal-like features—some had animal ears and tails, others had razor-sharp teeth. Although not many were born with these characteristics, most had superhuman strength, speed, and durability. At first, people were terrified, thinking it was a curse. But within a month, they accepted the change and discovered the existence of a core inside their bodies, which was later called a Mana core. On that fateful day, people stopped believing in God."
"What's a Mana core, Dad?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
"It's a sphere of energy inside the abdomen of the human body. It's not physically there, but people can feel and manipulate its energies. They could produce fire in the palm of their hands, conjure water out of nothing, and create wind slashes more powerful and sharper than finely crafted blades."
"Will I be able to do something like that too one day?" I wondered, my mind racing with possibilities.
"Once you grow up, you will be able to feel the presence of your Mana core inside you too," he said, as if reading my thoughts.
"What happened next, Dad?" I urged him to continue.
He smiled down at me and resumed the story. "A year later, a group of seven adventurers took a commission to retrieve an item from the underground vaults of one of the desolated cities. No one had gone near those areas after the anomaly. When they reached their destination, they expected to see a huge crater with everything around it burned to ashes. But what they saw was…"
He stopped, a mischievous look on his face.
"What did they see? What happened next? Why did you stop, Dad?" I asked, desperate to know more.
"Come on, give me a hug first," he said, opening his arms.
I moved forward and hugged him, and he kissed me on the forehead.
"Hey, I told you no kisses! I'm not a child anymore," I said, pretending to be angry.
"What do you mean? You're still only eight, Wel," he said, using the nickname he called me when we were alone.
"So, are you going to tell me what happened next?" I said, making an annoyed face.
"Of course. What they saw were cities still intact and well-preserved, even though there was no sign of human life. Animals roamed freely around the city, and the forest on the other side was filled with life. They soon realized the sound of pulsing hearts coming from the middle of the city. They reached the center and found a small crater with a glowing star-shaped white rock at its center, which seemed to be the source of the sound."
"Curious, one of them touched it, and his Mana core started evolving at a fast pace. That was the birth of the first kings of the now-known 'The Kingdom of Arson.' The seven of them wanted to keep all the power to themselves, so they each founded their own kingdoms across the continent of Itopius. These are the seven great kingdoms today. They hid the existence of the star from the rest of Grofal."
"How do you know about it if they hid its existence?" I asked.
"Not only I, but the rest of the world knows. Before King Arson's last years of reign, he wrote a book called 'The Untold,' in which he revealed everything, from finding the star to losing it one day—not one, but all seven pieces. From the book, the world learned the truth. But no one cared about the kingdom's hidden secrets because, even if the kingdom was established on lies, it still took care of its people. No one ever tried to find the missing seven stars because, according to Arson and his friends, the stars were swallowed by Grofal."
"Now that's the end of the story. Did you like it?" my father asked, but he already had his answer as he listened to my snores. I had fallen asleep peacefully on his lap.
"Well, it did its job properly," he said, smiling softly. He then looked at the door to the room, where a young man stood, tears in his green eyes matching those of the young Welkin sleeping beside him.
Seeing the figure, his eyes grew soft, and he smiled. "You should leave now too. It's not yet time for you to be here." As he said those words, the young man shook. He tried to reach out his hands, but cracks started to appear inside the room, and the scene began to change.
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Young Welkin barged into the manor's study room. His father, Garrick Silverhelm, was seated next to a table, engrossed in reading a pile of documents while quietly sipping tea. Standing beside him was an old but muscular man wearing a classic butler suit—Harrison Ashborne, head of the Ashborne family, a subsidiary family of the Silverhelm family, and Garrick's most trusted aide.
Welkin's sudden intrusion caused Garrick to turn in surprise since his son rarely visited the manor's study this early in the morning. But today was a special day. None of them knew there was another presence in the room, observing with solemn eyes, desperate thoughts racing through its mind.
Why is this happening? the presence thought, trying desperately to reach out. Why am I seeing these memories? Why now?
"Wel, what are you doing here this early in the morning?" Garrick asked, surprised. The sun hadn't risen yet, and Welkin never got up this early.
Ignoring his father's surprise, Welkin looked at Harrison and nodded. Understanding the signal, Harrison left and quickly returned, pushing a serving cart with a large cake on top. He set it up in front of Garrick, who now sat with a gentle smile, finally understanding what was happening.
Why am I seeing this? the presence wondered frantically, reaching out with invisible hands.
While Harrison was setting everything up, Welkin went up to his father and hugged him. "Happy Birthday, Father."
"Was all this really necessary?" Garrick asked, returning the hug with a smile.
"Of course. You always celebrate mine, so this time it was my turn to celebrate yours. But I haven't done anything like this before, so I asked Uncle Harrison for help. He arranged everything. Thank you, Uncle Harrison," Welkin said, looking at the head butler.
"No need to be so humble, young master. I was just doing my job. It was you who came up with the plan," Harrison said, trying to give all the credit to Welkin.
Understanding his intentions, Welkin gave an appreciative nod. Turning to Garrick, Harrison said, "Happy Birthday to you, My Lord. I think you should take the day off and spend some time with the young master."
"Thank you, Harrison. I will think about that," Garrick replied.
Welkin took out the gift he had prepared for his father from a cupboard in the corner of the room. It was a grail made of gold, adorned with various colored gems and rubies. Garrick had a hobby of collecting antiques, and this was the grail that had been up for auction two weeks ago. Because of work, he hadn't been able to get it. Welkin had found the buyer and acquired it without any issues, knowing it would be a perfect gift for Duke Silverhelm.
Welkin handed the grail to his father. "Where did you get this?" Garrick asked, surprise evident in his eyes.
Welkin told him how he had tracked down the buyer and managed to acquire it. Garrick was pleased to hear about the little investigation his son had done.
After Garrick took the ancient grail and placed it on his table, everything stopped. The same phenomenon appeared, with the scene shifting again.
No! the presence cried out silently, as cracks appeared in the room. Not again! Let me Watch! Please stop!
The scene shifted once more, leaving the presence alone with its unanswered questions and growing desperation.
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Welkin's head spun, a whirlwind of memories colliding in a chaotic dance. He blinked, his vision adjusting to the sight before him—a younger version of himself standing beside his father. They were in the garden of the mansion, near the old oak tree he used to climb every summer. He watched as his younger self laughed, his father's warm hand ruffling his hair. The scene was surreal, like a forgotten dream brought vividly to life.
But then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the idyllic scene shattered like glass. Welkin felt himself pulled away, tumbling through a void of nothingness, until he found himself floating in an expanse of emptiness. The darkness was suffocating, an all-encompassing void that stretched into infinity. He tried to speak, to move, but to no avail.
Glows of stars began to dot the black canvas, twinkling softly like distant lanterns. They multiplied, painting the void with specks of light. But with the stars came voices, a cacophony of whispers that overlapped and mingled, forming an incoherent murmur. He strained to make sense of the voices, but they were elusive, slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. Welkin's heart raced. Panic set in as he struggled to make sense of the voices, fear of what was happening to him gripping his mind.
What is happening to me? he thought desperately. Someone help me! The whispers grew louder, more insistent, but still, he couldn't decipher their meaning.
Please, anyone! Welkin's thoughts raced. I don't understand! The stars flickered, the whispers swirled around him, and he felt utterly alone in the vast, enigmatic void.
Time lost meaning in the void. Hours blurred into days, and days into weeks.
The relentless whispers persisted, a constant drone that grated on his sanity. How long have I been here? Welkin wondered, feeling his grasp on reality slipping. Will this ever end? The stars offered no answers, their cold light only deepening his sense of isolation.
Slowly, agonizingly, the voices began to fade. The silence that followed was deafening, pressing down on him like a weight. Welkin floated in the oppressive quiet, his mind teetering on the edge of despair.
Then, a new voice emerged from the silence. It was clear and strong, cutting through the void like a knife. A voice he knew all too well—Harrison's. The sound of his loyal butler's voice was a lifeline, pulling him back from the brink.
"Young Master, can you hear me?"
Harrison's voice echoed, filled with concern and determination.
Is that you, Harrison! Welkin struggled to respond, his consciousness flickering like a dying ember. The void seemed to tug at him, threatening to pull him deeper into its dark embrace.
"Hang on, Master Welkin" Harrison urged, his voice unwavering. "Please, Wake Up!".
Welkin's mind grasped at Harrison's words, clinging to them amidst the lingering echoes of the fading voices. He fought against the numbing emptiness, yearning to return to reality, to the comforting familiarity of Harrison's presence.
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