The endless dark void. A ship lay wrecked, surrounded by plants and beautiful flowers that had begun to grow around it. Vines and mosses crept across the hull, as though forming life from the crack of light above, giving it warmth and comfort, soothing the faint sound emanating from inside.
(Snuffling and weeping sounds of a child echo in the silence.)
Somewhere far away...
The village of Nouneya.
A calm yet bustling forest, where birds chirped in harmony.
It hadn't always been so. Three hundred years ago, the world trembled under the shadow of darkness. The Hero, chosen by the goddess of Nouneya, rose to defeat Umundel, the Lord of Darkness. A being so vile and powerful, it was said he could devour one world and move to the next if left unchecked.
But, as the tale goes:
"Peace and prosperity were restored because of our dear hero, chosen by the goddess of Nouneya, Hero Erun Tharos."
"Cough, cough."
"Grandma, are you alright?" came a soft, trembling voice.
"Hahaha," she laughed weakly. "How many times have I read this book to you? You never get tired of it, do you?" Her voice, though rough, was filled with affection.
"Yeah, because every time you read it, it feels like I'm Hero Tharos! It gives me the strength to stand up to those bullies in the village who always pick on me!"
"Hahaha... Kayal, hurting others, even those who hurt you, is never the answer," she said, her voice faltering as she coughed. Her condition seemed critical, and it looked as though she might fall unconscious at any moment.
The grandmother, over 80 years old, had pale white hair, wrinkled skin, and eyes that still carried the light of youth. Her face spoke of a life filled with stories passed down from her mother and grandmother.
Kayal, her 12-year-old grandson, had black hair and a pair of vibrant eyes that brimmed with boundless energy, as if ready to take down a demon king or two. Yet, his small and weak frame made him a frequent target for bullies. Despite this, his indomitable willpower made him a treasure to his grandmother.
She read him all kinds of stories, but his favorite was "A Divine's Journey to Where the Darkness Prevails," the tale of Hero Tharos defeating the dark lord Umundel.
Umundel.
A wretched demon whose motives were shrouded in mystery. He sought to fight and devour the strong, growing in power and threatening to destroy the world.
The dark lord was described as wearing a cracked skull mask with twin horns—torn, it seemed, from the head of a long-forgotten demon. His hair was long, reaching his elbows, tied together in a crude knot. The aura around him was ominous, the air reeking of decay, so toxic and filthy it could make any man vomit.
Erun Tharos, the hero chosen by the goddess of Nouneya, awakened his divine power by eating the fruit of the sacred tree. This tree, it was said, grew above the mortal body of the goddess herself, buried in the village after she descended. The tree's location was a closely guarded secret, known only to the village elders, passed down through generations.
Although Erun Tharos gained divine power, it came at a price. The weight of the world's fate rested on his shoulders. He endured unimaginable pain and suffering, battling the dark lord's demon and human subordinates alike, spilling blood on countless battlefields.
He was a vision of light: bright brown hair, golden eyes with rims of glowing light, clad in shimmering silver armor adorned with a magical red stone. The stone, enchanted with life-giving power, could revive him if his heart ceased beating. His white cape bore the emblem of a lion, the symbol of bravery, and the mark of the Nathaliyan Empire, the flourishing realm where Nouneya village resided.
The emperor, Marko van Nathaliya, pleased with the hero's progress, sent him to defeat the dark lord. The people waited with bated breath, hoping for victory.
And victory came.
But the hero..Never..Came..
Back.
...
All that remains now is his story, immortalized in the book titled "A Divine's Journey to Where the Darkness Prevails," a tale passed down to inspire future generations.
...
Drip... drip...
The sound of water droplets echoed in the darkness of a cave.
"Oooooouummmm..."
A deep, chilling voice resonated from within.
In the dark chamber, figures in dark robes knelt in prayer.
"O lord of darkness, bring destruction upon this land once more. Show these hypocrites what despair and hopelessness mean. This time, let us claim victory in your name."
The cave, lit with an eerie bluish glow, bore engravings on its walls. To the untrained eye, it might seem like a gateway to hell—or perhaps a path to summon Umundel back into the world.
...
Deep in the forest, a solitary tree stood dormant. Bathed in the evening sun, its leaves gleamed with green and yellow hues.
At its center, a bud slowly began to open.
It wasn't just a flower—it was a herald of something monumental to come.
In the depths of darkness...
...
Blurgle.
The sound of air rising through water echoed faintly, growing louder in the abyss.
Something was stirring.