Alura, the woman who had survived the orchestrated chaos, the one with fire in her eyes and a promise on her lips to take my life, stood amidst the carnage. She moved with a grim purpose, her gaze fixed on a fallen Orc. With a swift, practiced motion, she slit the creature's stomach open. The sight that met her eyes was enough to turn even the strongest stomach: the partially digested remains of humans, including, to her horror, her own mother. The gruesome discovery solidified her resolve. Disgust warred with a burning rage, a hatred that mirrored my own.
She approached me, her expression hardened, the promised vengeance still flickering in her eyes, but now tempered with a strange sort of understanding. She had witnessed my actions, the sheer scale of my manipulation, the cold, calculated efficiency with which I had orchestrated the downfall of the Orcs and goblins. She saw not a monster, but an instrument of destruction, a force of nature unleashed upon a world that had wronged humanity.
"I will follow you," she said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion, much like my own. "I will become one of the House of Darius."
I met her gaze, my expression unchanged. "When I die," I said, my voice echoing with the weight of a solemn vow, "I will leave humanity to you."
And so, our journey began. We recovered a map from the shrine, a tattered parchment detailing ancient routes and forgotten strongholds. We also found a book, its pages filled with the history of this world, a history that had been carefully concealed by our enemies. The tales it contained painted a stark picture: a world where demi-humans, elves, dwarves, centaurs, and countless other creatures had united under the banner of dark gods and fallen ones, even demons, their combined might aimed at the destruction of humanity. The book spoke of a time when humanity had reigned supreme, a golden age that had ended in a cataclysmic war, a war that had shattered our dominance and plunged us into an era of oppression. The united races claimed humanity had ruled for far too long, their arrogance and expansionism a threat to the natural order.
The book became our guide, our source of knowledge, our justification. It fueled my hatred, confirming my belief that every non-human creature was a threat, an enemy that needed to be eradicated. Alura, too, found a purpose in its pages. She wore an eye patch now, a constant reminder of the brutality she had witnessed, the loss she had endured. It served as a symbol of her commitment to the cause, a mark of her belonging to the nascent House of Darius.
We set out, the golden armor gleaming in the sunlight, the Elven sword at my side. Alura walked beside me, her face a mask of grim determination. We were two souls bound by a shared hatred, a shared purpose. We were the beginning of a storm, a storm that would sweep across the land, cleansing it of every non-human presence. The House of Darius had been born, and its reign of terror had just begun.