The Story of Elios
In the southwestern city of the Sacred empire of Paladium, a family of devoted believers dedicated their lives to the worship of the Lord of Humanity, the Holy Paladin.
Jul and Maria were known in their neighborhood as pillars of the religious community, perpetuating a centuries-old legacy of devotion and service.
Jul Krudger, heir to the prestigious Krudger lineage, proudly bore the weight of a family tradition spanning several centuries. The Krudgers, a family of scholar-priests, had always held important positions within the holy church of the Paladin, distinguishing themselves through their unwavering devotion and deep knowledge of sacred texts. Each generation of Krudgers had contributed to enriching the sacred libraries with their studies and interpretations of the Holy Paladin's teachings, the protective god of humanity in a world where each race worshipped its own deities.
At 31, Jul perfectly embodied this ancestral heritage. His elegant bearing and well-groomed appearance reflected his lineage's dignity: finely chiseled glasses framed his harmonious features, and his black hair, always impeccably styled, reinforced his natural charisma. As a librarian at the Grand Temple, he continued the family tradition, dedicating his days to preserving and studying sacred texts. His position wasn't merely a job, but the continuation of a centuries-old family mission: to preserve and transmit the Holy Paladin's wisdom to future generations.
Jul's daily rituals testified to this dual responsibility: that of his role as scholar-priest and that of Krudger heir. Each morning, before sunrise, he performed the traditional prayers passed down through his family for generations, invoking not only the Holy Paladin's protection but also the wisdom of his ancestors who had served before him.
Maria, his 28-year-old wife, though not born into a priestly family, had fervently embraced the Krudger traditions. She was a woman of simple and natural beauty, whose long black hair, often carefully braided, framed a gentle face that could nonetheless become stern when it came to enforcing the principles she cherished. She understood the importance of her role in perpetuating this sacred heritage, particularly in the education of their son Elios, who represented the next generation of Krudgers.
Strict but fair, she perfectly balanced her role as loving mother and guardian of family traditions, ensuring their home remained a bastion of faith and scholarship, as Krudger homes had been before them. In a world where each race had its own beliefs and gods, she ensured Elios grew up understanding not only the importance of their faith in the Holy Paladin but also the particular responsibility that fell to their family as guardians and interpreters of this faith.
Mornings at the Krudgers invariably began with family prayer. Jul, his glasses slightly fogged by the steam from his morning tea, guided these moments of reflection with a soft, composed voice. Maria then prepared breakfast, humming hymns while kneading the dough for daily bread.
It was into this pious household that Elios was born, a child destined to make history. His name, carefully chosen by Jul after hours consulting ancient texts, referenced his incredible affinity with fire, a gift that manifested from his earliest age. Even as an infant, he fascinated his parents by making candle flames dance during evening prayers.
Family evenings were filled with laughter and learning. Jul, removing his glasses to clean them in a mechanical gesture, would tell his son stories of great saints, illustrating his tales with shadows projected on the walls by candlelight. Maria, though strict about respecting traditions, couldn't help but smile seeing her son imitate the gestures of these legendary heroes.
Sunday was a special day at the Krudgers. After morning service, the family would gather in their small garden. Jul would initiate Elios in chess, a game he considered an excellent exercise in strategy and patience. Maria, seated near them, would sew or embroider while watching them tenderly, sometimes intervening to remind her son of the importance of thinking before acting.
Aware of their son's extraordinary nature, Elios's parents decided to give him an education deeply rooted in the kingdom's religious traditions. Jul spent hours teaching him holy scriptures, marveling at the ease with which his son absorbed these teachings. Maria, for her part, ensured he regularly practiced daily rituals, insisting on the importance of discipline in faith. Their shared dream was to see Elios become a great priest, serving the Holy Paladin, guiding the people of Paladium toward the light.
*The Fall of the Borders*
But fate had other plans for young Elios. At the age of eight, the Fifth Great Western War broke out, pitting the Beast - a people with half-human, half-animal traits - against the humans of the kingdom of Paladium. The conflict soon reached Paladium's western borders.
The frontier outposts, pride of Paladium's army, were guarded by elite military forces. Watchtowers rose every kilometer, equipped with complex light signal systems. Veterans of previous wars, hardened and vigilant, patrolled the ramparts day and night. Their shining armor, marked with the Holy Paladin's seal, inspired confidence and respect among civilians.
The fateful night began in deceptive calm. The moon, veiled by thick clouds, plunged the fortifications into near-total darkness. The sentries' torches created spaced islands of light, leaving vast areas of shadow between them.
The first signs of attack were so subtle they almost went unnoticed. Muffled sounds, the discrete rustling of leaves, the barely audible crack of a branch. When the first sentry realized what was happening, it was already too late.
The Beast, creatures endowed with perfect night vision, had slipped between surveillance points. Their bodies, half-human half-animal, blended perfectly into the darkness. The first warriors to fall didn't even have time to sound the alarm. Sharp claws sliced throats in deadly silence, powerful fangs broke necks before a sound could be uttered.
The attack's coordination was terrifying. Simultaneously, along the entire border, groups of Beasts methodically neutralized guard posts. The few soldiers who managed to raise the alarm only added to the confusion. In the darkness, defenders couldn't distinguish friend from foe.
Captain Marcus Steelhart, commander of the main garrison, desperately tried to organize a coherent defense. "Form ranks!" he shouted, his voice carried by the night wind. "Light all the fires! Don't let them use the darkness!"
But even this tactic backfired. The torches and position lights, once lit, transformed the defenders into perfect targets for the Beast archers. Arrows whistled through the night, finding their marks with deadly precision. Soldiers fell one by one, their once-shining armor now stained with blood.
In less than an hour, the main border defenses collapsed. The survivors, disoriented and terrified, retreated toward the city, pursued by bestial howls that chilled the blood.
*The Fall of the Quarter*
News of the defeat reached the western quarter as dawn barely broke. The first refugees arrived running, their fragmented accounts sowing panic among the inhabitants. The local militia, composed mainly of retired veterans and young recruits, tried to organize an orderly evacuation.
But chaos quickly set in. The narrow streets filled with terrified families, fleeing with what they could carry. Temples transformed into improvised shelters, their sacred halls echoing with desperate prayers.
The Beasts attacked the quarter in successive waves. The first wave consisted of swift scouts, feline creatures that leaped from roof to roof, spreading terror with their shrill cries. The militia managed to take down a few, but each victory was immediately eclipsed by the arrival of new assailants.
The second wave was devastating. Massive Beasts, terrifying mixtures of bears and men, smashed through barricades as if they were made of straw. Behind them came wolf-warriors, their eyes glowing with cruel intelligence, wielding swords and axes with deadly precision.
That night, the sky took on a blood-red tint as smoke clouds rose from neighboring quarters. The air became heavy, laden with an acrid smell of burning wood and charred flesh. The first explosions shook the walls of the family home, making the porcelain collection that Elios's mother cherished so much tinkle.
Flames licked the night sky, screams and bestial howls echoed through the streets. Elios's parents, their faces filled with terror and determination, hurriedly pushed him toward a small trapdoor hidden under the living room carpet. The hiding place, initially designed to protect the family's precious goods in case of looting, would now serve as refuge for their most precious possession: their son.
"Hide here, my son," whispered his mother, tears in her eyes. "Whatever happens, don't make a sound." Her trembling hands caressed her child's hair one last time, as if trying to engrave the softness of this contact in her memory.
"Never forget your faith, Elios," added his father as he closed the trapdoor. "The Holy Paladin will watch over you." His voice, usually strong and assured, wavered slightly, betraying his fear.
Elios, trembling with fear, curled up in the cramped space. Through a small crack in the floor, he could see part of the main room. The dancing shadows cast by the external flames gave life to the familiar walls in a macabre way. His heart was beating so hard he feared it would betray him.
The quarter around them gradually collapsed. The terrified screams of neighbors mingled with the roars of the Beasts, creating an infernal cacophony. The sound of exploding glass, smashed doors, and collapsing walls formed the nightmarish soundtrack of this night of horror.
Suddenly, the front door burst into splinters. Half-human, half-animal creatures invaded the house, their claws leaving deep marks on the carefully waxed parquet. Their eyes shone with a wild light in the darkness, and their fangs gleamed in the light of the flames that now devoured neighboring houses. Elios watched his parents, proud and dignified in face of their enemies.
What followed marked the young boy's mind forever. Helpless, he witnessed the brutal massacre of his parents. Their agonized screams, mixed with the triumphant roars of the Beasts, echoed in his ears. Blood splattered the floor, and a few droplets even passed through the crack, staining Elios's face.
The young boy had to gather all his will not to scream, not to come out of his hiding place. He stayed there, motionless, eyes fixed on the scene of horror until silence fell back over the house. The Beasts, after ransacking what remained of the furniture, left the premises, leaving behind a trail of destruction and death.
For two endless days, Elios remained hidden, terrified that the Beasts might return. The metallic smell of blood and the more acrid smell of smoke infiltrated through the crack, making him nauseous. The sounds of battle continued in the distance, sometimes punctuated by closer explosions that made his hiding place tremble.
When he finally found the courage to come out, he discovered a world reduced to ruins. The once prosperous quarter was now nothing but a field of desolation. The elegant houses were now just charred skeletons, their gaping windows like empty eye sockets. The carefully maintained gardens had been trampled, the century-old trees felled or burned.
The once lively streets were now nothing but debris and ashes. The cobblestones, once so clean, were now soiled with blood and strewn with debris. Here and there, bodies lay, frozen in their last desperate attempt to flee. Elios wandered through the rubble, haunted by the images of his parents' massacre. Despite the pain and terror that tore at his heart, he clung to his faith like a lifeline, praying constantly for the Holy Paladin to come to his aid.
For two additional days, he struggled to survive, eating what he could find among the ruins and hiding in the least exposed places. The smoke that continued to rise from the rubble made the air unbreathable, and the omnipresent dust irritated his eyes and throat. But fatigue, hunger, and trauma finally got the better of him. As night fell on the fourth day, Elios collapsed in the middle of a deserted street.
As his consciousness abandoned him, he gathered his last strength for one final prayer. "Holy Paladin," he whispered, "please save me..." It was in this semi-conscious state that Elios perceived a figure approaching him. In his delirium...
He thought he saw an angel sent by the Holy Paladin. Then, everything went black.