The kingdoms of Nordia and Delria were not always two separate lands divided by hatred and bloodshed. Once, they were one whole nation, unified under the name Nordia, where the Nordic people and those of the Beast Bloodline lived side by side. But it was never a peaceful coexistence; harmony was a myth carefully constructed over centuries of oppression.
In those days, the Nordic rulers saw the Beast folk not as equals but as tools, as weapons to wield in battle. The Berserkers, whose own fierce abilities were suppressed, took advantage of the Beast folk's unique powers, compelling them to use their inner strength as soldiers in wars they did not start. For generations, the Beast folk bore the weight of this burden, fighting the battles of their oppressors, their blood soaking into foreign soils for a cause that was never their own.
To the Beast folk, this might have been tolerable—if they were treated as equals, if they were respected for their sacrifices. But the Nordic people kept them chained to the lowest rungs of society. Outside of the army, they were barred from roles of influence or honor. They became slaves of war, forced to trade their strength for a life of hardship and subjugation, their freedom stripped, their voices silenced.
After centuries of sacrifice, of watching their kin fall in wars that brought them no peace or prosperity, the Beast folk had had enough. A revolt ignited like a spark in a dry forest, spreading swiftly through the land as they rose against their Nordic oppressors. What began as whispers of rebellion turned into a full-blown civil war that tore Nordia apart. The nation fractured, and from the ashes of that brutal conflict emerged Delria, a sanctuary for the Beast folk, a land they could finally call their own.
But freedom did not erase the memories of chains. To this day, there is bitterness in the hearts of the Beast folk, a smoldering hatred for the centuries of cruelty they endured. The scars run deep, and while the border now separates them, the wounds of that history remain fresh, haunting every encounter, every glance shared across the line between Nordia and Delria.
Luna, Zak, Lara, and Luca listened intently as the old man's words hung heavy in the air. Luna was the first to break the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "Wow… that's deep. I had no idea it was like that, even though I'm from here. It makes sense now, why there's still conflict after all this time." She looked over at the others. "Did you guys know about this?"
Lara nodded. "Yeah, we learned the true history growing up. But that information doesn't matter to us now. The past is in the past."
The old man shook his head slowly, a sorrowful smile creasing his worn face. "The past may be gone, but the scars remain. The pain… it lives on in Delria, etched into the very earth and sky. It will never be forgotten. And peace? Peace is a fantasy, a glimmer lost in a cruel world tainted by despair and violence. If peace were possible, don't you think we would have achieved it by now? No, the world itself is cursed. The Burning should have ended it all—it would have been less suffering that way."
Luna furrowed her brow, stepping closer. "The Burning? What… what was that?"
The old man's gaze turned distant, as though looking into a past that only he could see. "There are many secrets to this world that people have long forgotten," he began, his voice a low murmur. "The Burning happened nearly a thousand years ago, back when the world was vastly different. Back then, there were no Sicarii, no assassins bred and trained for war. Blood wasn't spilled so freely. There were cities that glimmered like jewels across continents, cultures that thrived in a time of art, knowledge, and trade. Kingdoms worked side by side—maybe not in perfect harmony, but with a mutual respect that kept the peace."
He paused, his eyes misting with the memory of tales passed down through the generations. "But it wasn't enough for God. He saw the darkness lurking in mankind's heart, and so He sent the Burning, a purge meant to cleanse this world. It was fire, yes, but it was also more than that—plagues, storms, floods. Entire cities were consumed, cultures erased. It was meant to be the end."
The old man's voice softened, heavy with regret. "But it wasn't the end, not entirely. God decided to make it a test, to see if we were worthy of survival. Somehow, humanity clawed its way back, proved something to Him, though I couldn't tell you what." He let out a brittle laugh, shaking his head. "But for what? Look around you. We're a broken people, still struggling, still spilling each other's blood over ancient grudges. We may have proven ourselves worthy back then, but it feels like it was all for nothing."
Silence settled around them, thick and unbreakable, as Luna and the others absorbed the weight of the old man's story. The world they knew seemed suddenly smaller, darker, as though the very ground they stood on carried the echoes of past suffering, an inheritance that bound them all.
Luna exchanged a glance with Zak, her curiosity piqued. She stepped forward, eyes fixed on the old man, questions swirling in her mind.
"How do you know all of this?" she asked, voice soft but insistent. "These aren't just old stories... it sounds like you were there."
The old man's gaze drifted to the distant mountains, his expression unreadable. "I was close to those who knew the truth," he said, voice steady but tinged with an ancient sorrow. "I once served within the Nordic royal family, high-ranking among the Beast Sicarii. Back then, I was a fierce soldier, trusted and close enough to overhear things others couldn't even dream of."
Zak's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You were a Beast Sicarii… serving the Nordic royals?"
The man nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "Yes. In those days, I thought it was an honor. To be a Beast Sicarii meant strength, loyalty. I believed I was protecting our people… I didn't realize the full picture until much later. The Nordic royal family, they know things about the world that most have long forgotten. Secrets that have been passed down through generations, carefully guarded behind closed doors. Few in Nordia even realize how much their rulers know about the true history of this land."
Lara crossed her arms, her face a mask of skepticism. "If they know so much, why don't they share it? Why keep everyone in the dark?"
The old man's expression darkened. "Power," he replied simply. "Knowledge is power, and they're not keen to share that power freely. The less the world knows, the easier it is to control. I was there long enough to understand that they have their reasons, though not all of them made sense. For instance, the Berserkers' restriction on Inner—their ability to wield their own power—has been prohibited for as long as anyone can remember. Why? Even I couldn't say. That knowledge was something they kept locked away, even from those closest to them."
Luna frowned, deep in thought. "So… you think they're hiding something, even from their own people?"
The old man chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "Oh, child, they're hiding many things. I would often wonder why Nordia, alone in all the lands, held such ancient knowledge. And yet they keep so much of it hidden, locked away in their royal vaults, written in books only a few eyes are allowed to see. But I never got close enough to learn it all." He sighed, shaking his head. "Perhaps they're even hiding from themselves, afraid of what might happen if the truth were known."
Luca, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. "And you… you believe these secrets, this knowledge… do you think it's connected to the conflict? To why peace is impossible?"
The old man nodded, his gaze sharp and filled with regret. "Yes, I do. Our hatred, our endless bloodshed—it's as if it's woven into the very fabric of this world, a curse that binds us all. Knowledge could be the key to breaking it. But as long as those with power choose to hoard it, to use it for control rather than understanding, we're all condemned to repeat the same mistakes."
A silence settled over them, heavy and full of unspoken thoughts, as if the weight of history itself pressed upon their shoulders. The squad had come here for a mission, but now, they felt as though they stood at the edge of something far greater, an abyss filled with secrets and shadows.
Luna swallowed, looking back at the old man. "Thank you for sharing this with us. But… why tell us all this now?"
The old man's eyes softened. "Because one day, you may have the chance to change things. Maybe not today, and maybe not in my lifetime. But you are Sicarii, warriors in a world teetering on the brink. If you can remember what I've told you, carry it with you… perhaps you can find the answers that I never could."
With that, he stepped back, leaving the squad with the weight of his words echoing in their minds as they prepared to continue their journey into Delria, a land shadowed by the past and haunted by the secrets of a broken world.