Kingdom of Vallor at Night..
Alan settled into a meditative posture, clad in a white cloak with an attached hood. This attire was typical of a mage, much like the garments worn by those around him in the chamber. The chamber was vast and dimly lit, its stone walls adorned with intricate carvings of ancient runes that glowed faintly in the shadows.
A high, arched ceiling loomed above, supported by sturdy columns that seemed to pulse with a quiet energy. At the center stood an altar adorned with glowing runes that shone brighter than any other light in the chamber.
Above the altar floated a massive book, its pages flipping occasionally as if guided by an unseen force. An old man with gray hair, distinct from the others, sat close to the book, his eyes shut in deep concentration. The old man had a weathered face, etched with deep lines. His gray hair fell in wispy strands around his shoulders, contrasting with the dark robes he wore. A long, silver beard framed his chin, giving him an air of gravitas.
Despite his closed eyes, there was a sense of alertness about him, as if he were attuned to the energies surrounding the altar. His skin was pale, hinting at a life spent in study rather than in the sun, and his hands, gnarled but steady, rested gently on his knees. An ornate staff leaned against his side, adorned with gemstones. He was the Grand Master of the mage order in the Kingdom of Vallor; leaders respected him, and nations shivered at the mention of his name. He was simply known as Master Albert.
Alan was the only one with his eyes open. For two years, the world outside Vallor had been engulfed in war. The Dark One was awakening and would soon be freed from the Forbidden Land by his followers, the Blood-Shadow Mages.
Yet, for some reason, the Mage Order took no action. They had been told that the war was none of their concern. Master Albert had gathered them to unlock the Golden Horn, one of the seven ancient relics capable of breaking the seal that kept the Dark Lord imprisoned. He believed that the relic was no longer safe in Vallor and wanted to take it to the White Tower, the place where all powerful mages resided. Rumors had it that Emily, one of Master Albert's personal disciples, had experienced a vision that the Golden Horn would be taken by the Blood-Shadow Mages.
No one knew if it was true; after all, rumors could be both true and false.Suddenly, the chamber began to vibrate violently. The glowing runes on the altar flickered, as if responding to an unseen force. Everyone in the chamber opened their eyes just in time to see a small space open at the center of the altar, and a Golden Horn floated up, shimmering with an otherworldly light. Its surface was adorned with runes glowing in crimson lights. Master Albert's face became pale all of a sudden, and he coughed up blood. Alan immediately rushed to his side.
"Master, are you alright?" he asked, concern etched on his face, mirrored by everyone around him.
"They are here," Albert said. Who? Alan was going to ask but held himself back. Could it be the Blood-Shadow Mages? "Who is it?" the others asked.
"Assemble the mages; we must protect the relic. Guard the fortress!" Everyone immediately hurried out of the room, leaving Alan and Master Albert.
"How many are they?" Alan asked. "Can we take them?"
Master Albert struggled to catch his breath, his pale face glistening with sweat. "I... I cannot say for certain, Alan. The vision was clouded, but I sensed a great darkness approaching. But we must be prepared. I feel a stronger dark force; it is going to be a bloody battle." He rose, supporting himself with his staff. He gestured toward the book, and as if it had a will of its own, it floated toward Master Albert. "Alan, you have to take the codex and the Golden Horn to the White Tower in Eldoria. You must find the Light Bearer before the shadows do." Alan was also one of his disciples; although he was not the strongest, he was an Archmage.
He handed the book and the Golden Horn to Alan. They both hurried toward the exit door and then to the hallway heading to the balcony. Upon reaching there, Alan's mouth dropped. The skies were covered with flying creatures, little dots covering the heavens. The soldiers and mages were already at the gate. The guards drew their swords, and the mages channeled their magical energy, enveloped in blinding light of different colors.
"They came earlier than expected," Master Albert said with a grave expression. Suddenly, demons rushed toward the city in great numbers, killing and slaughtering anyone who stood in their way. They were beasts with horns and sharp claws, wielding weapons like axes and war hammers. Behind them were mages in black robes and masks that concealed their faces, dark energy flowing around them. Dark smoke rushed to the tower. The swirling smoke descended before the guards and coalesced into towering creatures, clothed in tattered robes. Their bodies swirled as if they were made of wind. One could not see their faces, except for their glowing eyes.
"The Wraith Binders!" Alan exclaimed. The Wraith Binders were among the Dark Lord's deadliest armies, capable of wiping out entire nations. They were the souls of fallen heroes captured and tortured by the Dark Lord himself until they swore an oath of submission to him. They embodied despair, and their very presence instilled fear in the hearts of even the bravest warriors.
"Alan, focus!" Master Albert's voice broke through the chaos. "You must get to the White Tower. The fate of Vallor depends on it." Alan nodded, his heart racing. He could feel the weight of the Golden Horn and the codex pressing against him, a reminder of the responsibility thrust upon his shoulders. "What about you, Master?" he asked, glancing at the old man, who was visibly weakening.
"I will hold them off," Albert replied, his voice steady despite the blood that stained his lips. "You have to go now! The longer you stay, the more danger you put yourself in. Trust in your training, Alan. You are ready." With a heavy heart, Alan took a step back, knowing the gravity of the situation. He could see the soldiers rallying, their formation tightening as the Wraith Binders advanced. Shouts echoed through the night, mingling with the roars of the demons.
"Go!" Master Albert urged, raising his staff. It glowed with a brilliant light, illuminating the darkened courtyard. Alan hesitated but then kept the codex and the Golden horn in his bag and then turned, sprinting down the stone corridor.
Albert took a deep breath. "What are you still waiting for? Come out, Leo," he said, as if he had been expecting the unknown figure. "Long time no see, Master Albert." A man in a black robe suddenly appeared before him, his face covered with a mask. He was the leader of the Blood-Shadow Mages. "Aren't you happy to see me?" he said, a smile lurking beneath the mask. The leader's voice dripped with malice. "You've grown weaker, Master. It's almost sad to see."
Albert's grip tightened on his staff, the light emanating from it flickering in response to the encroaching darkness. "Leo," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil around them. "You will not take Vallor. Not while I still draw breath."
"Oh, but you misunderstand," Leo replied, stepping closer, the shadows swirling around him like a living cloak. "This is not about taking Vallor; it's about its inevitable fall. The Dark One will rise, and you will be powerless to stop it." As the Wraith Binders advanced, their glowing eyes piercing through the gloom, Albert felt a surge of determination. "You underestimate the strength of hope, Leo. The Golden Horn will not fall into your hands. Alan will reach the White Tower, and with it, the light will return."
Leo laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the chamber. "Hope? You cling to hope while your world crumbles around you? How quaint." He gestured, and the Wraith Binders halted, their forms shifting ominously. "Let's see how long you can hold onto that hope."
With a swift motion, Leo raised his hand, and dark energy surged forth, coalescing into tendrils that lashed out toward Albert. The old mage countered, channeling his own energy; the light from his staff clashed against the darkness. The resulting explosion sent shockwaves through the courtyard, scattering debris and sending soldiers tumbling.
"Fetch me the Golden Horn!" Leo ordered the Wraith Binders, and they dissolved into smoke and flew off."It's not too late, Leo. Come back to the light," Albert said. Leo responded with chilling laughter. "You were the one who turned me into this; you left me in that forsaken place, trapped by the Dark Lord."
"I warned you, Leo, but you didn't listen." Leo raised his hand, and dark energy swirled around him, solidifying into a wooden staff. With a swift motion, he raised it, summoning a dark cloud. Lightning rained down, aiming for Albert.
Albert countered by creating a huge shield above him. The lightning struck the radiant shield, the impact sending ripples through the air, illuminating the courtyard with flashes of blinding brilliance and deep shadows. Leo took advantage of this and lunged forward with his staff. With a swift move, Albert dodged sideways, quickly channeling his magical powers in his hand and striking Leo with a blinding light in his chest. Leo was sent flying, crashing into the walls.
"You allowed yourself to be consumed by darkness; now you are nothing but a puppet in the Dark Lord's hands."
"Your thirst for power was the reason you fell into the Dark Lord's trap." Leo clutched his fist; he didn't want to remember the past. He was one of Albert's students, the strongest among them, but he wanted more power to avenge the death of his family. Power to also resurrect the dead. In his quest for vengeance, Leo had sought forbidden knowledge, ultimately leading him to the Dark Lord's grasp. The memories flooded back, and for a moment, doubt flickered in his eyes, but the darkness quickly consumed it.
"Enough of this!" Leo shouted, his voice laced with fury. "You think your light can save you? You are a relic of the past, Albert! Your time is over." The group trembled as Leo summoned dark energy, forming it into fireballs, targeting Albert with deadly precision.
Meanwhile, Alan raced through the courtyard with his bag, which contained the codex and the Golden Horn. He was heading toward the southern gate. There were no demons in sight here. Alan was a bit closer to the gate when suddenly dark smoke descended before him, solidifying into six towering creatures. They stepped sideways, making way for a female dressed in a black robe and a mask that covered her face.
"Where do you think you are going?" she said, channeling her dark energy. "Hand over the Golden Horn or die!" Without waiting for Alan to answer, the Wraith Binders lunged forward, their claws outstretched, ready to tear his flesh apart.