In a faraway place, on a planet where chaos reigned, the "Light of Hope" was born.
On November 2nd, Year 26, during a thunderous, rainy night, a loud cry echoed through a small, crumbling house. "Welcome to the world, my precious," whispered a woman, who appeared to be in her mid-30s. Her grayish hair framed her face, her blue eyes filled with sorrow and joy as she clutched a child to her chest, her ragged clothes soaked by the storm.
"My precious... though I may not have much time left on this earth, always remember that I will love you, and I will always be by your side," she said, her voice trembling. Though reluctant to leave him, she had no choice.
BOOM!
The door to the almost-collapsing house slammed open with force. A man, dressed like a cowboy, stormed in, pointing a revolver at her. "I finally found you!" he shouted, his voice cold and determined.
"No, please don't!" the woman cried, her voice desperate.
CRACK!
As the cowboy raised his gun, thunder roared through the sky, forcing him to hesitate. The woman seized the chance, bolting for the door. Though weakened from childbirth, she ran as fast as she could, heading toward the nearby forest.
But the cowboy was quick to follow. Her exhaustion from childbirth slowed her down, and within moments, he tackled her to the ground. "Damn woman," he growled. "Why do you have to make this so hard? Just die already!"
"Why? Why? Why do you keep chasing me?" the woman cried, breaking down from sheer exhaustion. "I did nothing wrong!"
"Why, you ask?" the cowboy sneered. "It's because of the bounty on your head! Laura Aumen, the 'Devil's Wife,' with a bounty of 3 billion Sigs. With that much money, I could live like a king for thousands of years. And you ask why!" His voice grew more excited as he imagined the wealth he would gain from delivering her head.
Just as he raised his gun to shoot, Laura broke free from his grasp and sprinted forward, but she was soon stopped in her tracks. The forest ended abruptly in a steep cliff. Her breath labored, she muttered, "I'm sorry, my precious," as she pulled a necklace from her pocket. Her thoughts drifted back to a time long ago.
Flashback – Three Years Earlier:
"Laura, if we ever have a child, what would we name them?" a mysterious man, seemingly her husband, asked.
"Well, if it's a girl, what about Lyria?" Laura replied, her eyes sparkling.
The man smiled. "I like it. What if it's a boy?"
Laura paused, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Well, how about..."
Back to the Present:
The cowboy, Mihta Mc'ker, finally caught up to her. "Damn, you're persistent. Just remember the name of the person who killed you—the #1 on the Rogue Hunter list: Mihta Mc'ker," he taunted, his voice growing louder.
Though still hundreds of meters away, Laura heard his name and murmured, "That name... no wonder you looked so familiar..."
But before she could finish, Mihta fired his gun.
Bang!
The bullet, charged with wind and lightning, sped through the air toward Laura. Just before Mihta could pull the trigger, a mysterious force—like a wand—shifted his aim. His hand jerked slightly, altering the trajectory of the bullet, sending it toward the child in Laura's arms instead.
In her final moments, Laura saw the change and managed to pull her child away. But she wasn't fast enough. The bullet grazed the child's forehead, leaving a lightning-shaped scar. But what happened next was even more strange: the bullet vanished into nothingness, as if it had never existed.
Laura didn't waste any time. She ran once more, but Mihta didn't immediately pursue. He stood there, watching her, as if waiting for something.
After what seemed like an eternity of running, Laura stumbled into the quiet village of Jadine. The storm still raged behind her, but the streets here were eerily calm, the houses standing firm against the downpour. She was barely able to keep her feet, exhaustion from both childbirth and the brutal chase weighing heavily on her fragile body.
Jadine was a small, humble village, known for its warm-hearted people and its towering, ancient stone walls that shielded it from the wilds beyond. But even here, she knew she couldn't stay. She had no time. The bounty hunters were still out there, and Mihta's relentless pursuit would follow her to the ends of the earth.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached the orphanage at the edge of town. The building was old but sturdy, its windows glowing with the warm light of the interior. The kind-hearted nuns who ran the place were known to care for lost children, and for a moment, Laura allowed herself to hope. Hope for the future of her child.
She gently cradled the baby, gazing down at him one last time, her heart breaking with the weight of her decision.
"Medar," she whispered softly, the name she had chosen for him long ago. It meant "light" in an ancient language—fitting, she thought, for a child born in darkness, a child who would one day bring hope to a broken world.
With trembling hands, she pulled out the necklace—a simple silver pendant engraved with his name. Tears blurred her vision as she fastened it around his tiny neck, a token that would always connect him to her, even if they were separated forever.
"I love you, my precious," she said, her voice choked with emotion, as she kissed his forehead. "Please... be safe."
She lingered for a moment longer, fighting the urge to stay, but she knew she couldn't. If anyone saw her here, the consequences could be disastrous. With one last glance at her son, she carefully laid him down on the doorstep of the orphanage, wrapping him in a weathered blanket to keep him warm.
"May you find the peace I couldn't give you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm.
Then, without another word, she turned and vanished into the night, her heart heavy with sorrow and love.
Jadine Orphanage, the Next Morning
The storm had passed by dawn, leaving behind a fresh layer of mud on the village's streets. The first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds, casting a golden hue over the cobblestone roads. It was a peaceful morning, but the tranquility would soon be shattered.
Sister Livia, the head of the orphanage, stepped outside to begin her morning routine. Her breath caught when she saw the bundle on the doorstep. At first, she thought it might be some forgotten laundry or perhaps a discarded blanket, but as she knelt down and unwrapped the fabric, she found the infant nestled within.
A gasp escaped her lips. The child was pale but breathing, his tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm. His eyes were shut tight, but a small silver necklace caught the morning light, shimmering against his skin. The name engraved on the pendant read: Medar.
"Dear Lord..." Sister Livia whispered, her heart aching with the mystery of the child's arrival. She quickly scooped him up, careful not to disturb his peaceful slumber. "What fate has brought you to our doorstep, little one?"
The child's arrival was nothing short of a miracle, but the question remained—who had left him here, and why?