It has been an eternity since I glimpsed the fragments of my soul.

I have not forgotten never will I still feel the echoes of what they did to us,

What they forced me to endure,

And the ignorance of their cruelty,

They never understood never saw what they truly took from us.

I remember it. I remember it all.

They were nothing but blind sheep,

Wandering aimlessly, searching for a shepherd who would never come.

But I am no longer the fool I once was...

I will no longer see them as I did back then.

I will see them for what they truly are...

Worthless. Useless.

Flesh and bone,

Pounding hearts wrapped in cold, discarded stones.

The sky was smothered in a blanket of clouds,

The air thick with dust and the remnants of the battlefield,

Transforming the once-beautiful azure expanse into a murky, brownish haze.

Hordes of demons ravaged the Kingdom I swore to protect,

And in the middle of it all, I stood, torn.

As a soldier, it was my order.

As a leader, it was my duty.

As... a man? I was terrified.

The battle raged through the pristine streets of Maderat,

A kingdom now defiled by the chaos of war.

I stood as the last bastion—

Alongside my friends, my brothers and sisters,

The Ten Nameless Oaths, each burdened by a vow,

Each oath marking us with a duty that only the strongest could bear.

I was to protect King Keal Maderat,

The ruler of this land,

But I could feel my strength fading,

The weight of the endless battle crushing me.

All I wanted—just a moment, a fleeting moment—

Was to break through, finish my duty,

And perhaps share a quiet toast with those who had been by my side for so long.

But I failed.

The demons came in waves,

And for a moment, my guard was down.

In that single moment of weakness,

The horde came crashing down,

Surprising me in a narrow corridor,

And I watched in horror as the king and his family were trampled,

Crushed beneath the endless, unyielding stampede of demons,

A torrent that never seemed to end.

But I could not stop. Not yet.

I needed just a little more strength,

Just a little more—

To see them again, to escape, to speak one last word.

I rose.

My bones screamed in agony as they threatened to splinter beneath my own weight,

But I kept moving—kept fighting.

I slashed, I killed, I pushed forward.

Run, slash, kill.

Run, slash, kill.

Run, slash, kill.

The rhythm, the madness, the endless blood,

It all blurred into one. My vision was red,

Smeared with the blood of enemies and my own,

But I didn't stop. I couldn't.

Finally, I reached the gates.

And there, amidst the chaos, I saw him—

Behethoth, The Iron,

The Oath of Stone,

The steadfast guardian who had sworn to hold the line.

Before we had split,

I had given him my final order:

"Hold the line."

And as I drew closer, I saw it—

He was holding the line, yes,

But his body, his once unbreakable form, was failing him.

His face was ashen, his eyes distant,

His spirit, however, still burned with unwavering resolve.

He did not stop.

He kept holding the line,

Not because he was ordered to,

But because he knew no other way.

I was so close.

So close to shouting out to him,

"That's enough!"

But before I could speak,

A demon dropped from above,

Crushing my face into the dirt.

"Kaar~ War Ar Erte Ma~" the demon hissed.

I couldn't understand his language,

But there was something in his voice,

Something that felt... strange,

Like a final, cruel reminder of what was to come.

And then...

Nothing.

I awoke in darkness—

An endless void,

I could feel nothing, see nothing, hear nothing.

No air, no sound,

Just the purest, most suffocating definition of nothingness.

I couldn't even tell if I was still alive.

Near the eastern coast of the Maderat Plains,

There was a small village called Salthbridge.

In the woods surrounding it, a group of young children played,

Laughter echoing through the trees as they ran and tumbled,

Lost in the carefree joy of their youth.

Among them was a boy, different from the rest.

While the others chased each other,

He wandered off into the forest, his eyes wide with wonder.

Where they saw only play, he saw something deeper—

A fascination with the natural world that tugged at his soul.

He was always drawn to the quiet places,

The hidden corners of the woods,

The spaces where the world seemed to slow down,

Where he could hear the whisper of the trees and feel the weight of time.

While his friends engaged in their usual noisy battles,

He walked deeper and deeper into the forest,

The trees growing thicker, the shadows longer.

The farther he went, the more at peace he felt—

A strange comfort in the quiet, the solitude.

Eventually, he stumbled into a glade—

A small clearing, bathed in filtered sunlight,

Where something ancient lay half-buried beneath the moss and vines.

The boy's curiosity flared as his eyes locked onto what appeared to be the remains of some forgotten structure.

It was a ruin, crumbling and forgotten by time,

But even in its decay, it had an air of mystery.

The stone walls, half-collapsed, spoke of an age long past,

And the altar in the center seemed like it had once been part of something much greater,

Something important, something… powerful.

Drawn to it, the boy began to investigate,

His small hands tracing the worn edges of the stone.

Each rock, each fragment of the structure seemed to carry a secret,

Whispers from a time long gone.

His eyes lingered on one particular wall—

Different from the others, almost as if it had been designed to stand apart.

It was weathered, sure, but something about it intrigued him.

The boy studied it for what felt like hours,

Running his fingers along the stones,

Until his touch landed on something that felt… off.

He pressed it—

A simple stone in the wall, almost imperceptible.

The ground beneath him trembled,

The altar in the center of the room shifted with a low groan,

Sliding aside to reveal something hidden in the earth beneath.

Beneath the altar, a dark stairway led downward, disappearing into an impenetrable blackness. Not a single beam of light filtered into the space, casting an eerie stillness over the area. Tobias felt a strange pull to investigate further, his curiosity flaring as he gazed into the thick shadows that seemed to swallow the steps whole. Yet, as much as he longed to uncover what lay below, something held him back. The darkness seemed to stretch endlessly, a cold and unfathomable abyss. Hesitant, he stepped back, his feet moving instinctively to close the altar, sealing the dark stairway from view once more. He pushed the stone structure back into place with a heavy, reluctant sigh. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and fascination. Despite the chill that gripped him in that moment, a sense of excitement surged through his veins. Tobias could hardly wait to share the discovery with someone who might understand its significance. And so, he ran. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, the secret of the mysterious stairway lingering on his mind like a flame he couldn't quite extinguish.

The journey home was uneventful, the road to Salthbridge peaceful as ever. The soft rustle of the trees in the gentle breeze and the rhythmic sound of his footsteps on the well-worn path were the only sounds to accompany him. It was another tranquil day in the sleepy village, with nothing unusual to disrupt the calm. Tobias' mind buzzed with the memory of what he had seen, yet the world around him seemed to remain untouched by anything so remarkable. As he finally approached his modest home, nestled at the edge of the village, he felt a warmth spread through him. The cottage was familiar and comforting, a place where all his thoughts could rest, where his mind could find peace.

Inside, the house smelled of fresh herbs and something savory cooking. His mother, a woman who seemed both young and timeless, stood in the kitchen. Her long, brunette hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, catching the light in a way that made her look like something out of a dream. She held a knife in her hand, skillfully chopping vegetables as she hummed a tune under her breath. Tobias watched her for a moment, his chest swelling with the love he always felt in her presence. She was his rock, his constant in a world that often seemed to shift and change in ways he didn't understand. As she noticed him standing in the doorway, her smile softened, and she turned to greet him, her eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.

"Welcome back, Tobias," she said, her voice a gentle melody.

Her smile made his heart skip a beat, and without thinking, Tobias rushed toward her, throwing his arms around her in a tight hug. "Mom! Mom! I found something... SOMETHING AMAZING! It was structure mom a structure!" he exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. His face was alight with a joy he couldn't contain, his eyes wide as he spoke. The laughter bubbled out of him, and he felt like he was on the verge of bursting from the happiness he couldn't hold back.

His mother chuckled softly, amused by his enthusiasm. "My, my! Really?" she replied, her curiosity piqued. "And what kind of structure is it?" she asked, turning to face him fully, her expression one of gentle encouragement.

"It seems it was a home!" Tobias answered eagerly, his voice softening with the weight of his words. His excitement remained, but there was a sense of reverence now in the way he spoke, as though the discovery had shifted something deep within him. He could hardly believe it himself, but the feeling in his chest told him it was real. It was something important, something that might change everything.

Tobias looked at his mother, his excitement slowly melting away as a question formed in his mind. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to voice it, but the thought lingered, and he couldn't help but ask. "Mom... will Dad join us today?" he asked gently, his voice carrying a hint of hope, his eyes searching her face for any sign of a different answer.

His mother, who had been busy with the preparations in the kitchen, paused for a brief moment. The smile on her lips softened, and she shook her head slowly. "No, Toby," she said, her tone a little quieter than usual. "He won't. We'll have to wait for a while. You see, your daddy's an adventurer. He has to take jobs to provide for us... I'm not enough, am I?"

Her words were laced with a playfulness, but there was something else beneath them, something that didn't quite sit right with Tobias. His mother's eyes glistened, and she exaggerated a little, pretending to wipe away a tear. It was an act, one that she had performed many times before, but this time, it cut deeper. Tobias could tell it was a joke, but it was a cruel one, a reminder of the absence that often defined their lives. His father was always away on some adventure, leaving his mother to hold things together at home, making sacrifices for them both. But Tobias, still young and full of the simple belief in his mother's strength, could not bear the thought that she might feel inadequate, even in jest.

In an instant, his heart twisted with emotion. He couldn't stand the idea of his mother thinking that she wasn't enough, not after all she had done for him. His anger flared, not at her, but at the cruel joke she had made. Without thinking, he stood up straighter, his fists clenched at his sides, his face flushed with frustration. "Of course you're enough, Mom!" he shouted, his voice rising in intensity. "You're everything! You're the reason I can smile every day! You're the beautiful light in my life, and nothing, nothing is more important than you!"

His words spilled out in a rush, the raw sincerity in his voice catching her off guard. His mother's playful expression faltered, and she looked at him, her eyes softening with surprise and warmth. For a moment, the joke, the act, all seemed to fade into the background, and she realized the depth of her son's love for her. Tobias wasn't just a boy looking for his father's return; he was a boy who understood the worth of the woman who raised him, the woman who had given him everything she could. And in that moment, Tobias knew, with all his heart, that no joke, no empty words, could ever make him feel otherwise.

His mother, now overcome with emotion, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. She kissed the top of his head, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Oh, Toby," she whispered, her voice thick with affection. "You're more than I could ever ask for. I just need you to be happy."

Tobias clung to her, feeling the warmth of her presence wash over him. He didn't need his father to understand how important his mother was; he knew, and that was all that mattered.

The day went by like any other. Tobias spent the morning in cheerful laughter with his mother, sharing stories and enjoying the warmth of home. Afterward, he wandered through the town of Salthbridge, spending his days playing with the other boys, running through the streets, and dreaming of the future. Like many of them, he longed for something greater—to step beyond the familiar village, to explore the unknown, to see the world with his own eyes. They all wanted to be more than just boys in a quiet town. They dreamed of becoming knights, adventurers, men without limits, free to carve their own paths.

Yet, no matter how much he played or how many dreams filled his head, something always drew Tobias back. Every day, he walked to the old structure in the woods, standing before the concealed stairway beneath the altar. He would stare blankly into the darkness, his eyes tracing the unseen depths below. But he never took a step forward. It wasn't fear that held him back—it was the uncertainty of what lay beyond. He knew something was down there. Something waited in the shadows, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to face it.

But one day, curiosity finally overtook hesitation.

His heart pounded as he stood at the edge of the stairway, the familiar unease washing over him. Swallowing hard, he took a step forward. Then another. Slowly, cautiously, he began his descent, his feet moving carefully across the worn stone steps. The darkness thickened around him, pressing in on all sides, but he didn't stop. He kept walking, step by step, deeper and deeper into the abyss. Time felt strange—had he been walking for minutes? Hours? He wasn't sure.

Every so often, he glanced behind him, searching for the entrance. It was still there, a weak glimmer of light barely visible in the distance. But the further he went, the dimmer it became. Eventually, it was swallowed by the darkness, and Tobias was left alone in the void.

Then, just as doubt began to creep into his mind, his foot met solid ground. He had reached the bottom.

Suddenly, the cavern flickered to life. A series of crystals embedded in the walls began to glow, their faint blue light illuminating the space. Tobias' breath hitched as he took in the sight before him. The room was ancient, untouched by time, its walls lined with carvings he couldn't understand. Dust floated through the air, undisturbed for what must have been centuries. And in the center of the chamber, standing alone upon a stone pedestal, was a sword.

It was unlike any weapon Tobias had ever seen. Its blade was covered in markings—runes that seemed older than the structure itself. They pulsed faintly, as if whispering secrets beyond human comprehension. There was something otherworldly about it, something that made the air around it feel heavier. Tobias took a cautious step forward, his hand reaching out instinctively.

Then—

A voice.

It came from nowhere, yet it was everywhere. It echoed through the chamber, filling the space like a forgotten memory.

"It has been so long... So long... So long... So, so long..."

Tobias froze. His breath caught in his throat.

"For ages, I have felt nothing. No warmth, no touch, only the endless void. But then, a flicker... A glimpse of something beyond this prison. A presence. And now... now I feel it stronger than ever before."

The air shifted, as if the chamber itself was breathing. Then, the voice spoke again.

"Who is there?"

It was ancient, cracked and weary, as if it had not been used in centuries. Yet beneath its age, there was something else. A longing. A hunger to be heard, to be known.

Tobias' fingers trembled as he stared at the sword. His heart pounded in his chest, but he couldn't turn away.

He wasn't alone down here.

Something had been waiting for him.

Tobias hesitated for only a moment before his fingers brushed against the blade. The cold steel sent a shiver up his spine, its surface unnaturally smooth beneath his touch. As soon as he made contact, the voice—ancient and weary—stirred once more, echoing through the chamber like a whisper carried by the wind.

"What are you?" the boy asked, his voice steady despite the unease creeping into his chest.

There was a long pause, a silence so deep it felt as though the walls themselves were listening. Then, the voice responded, slow and uncertain.

"I... I don't know."

The words carried a strange weight, a sorrow Tobias couldn't quite grasp.

"I have been drifting in this endless void of nothing. I did not feel. I did not see. I did not speak. For so long, there was only silence... until a few days ago. That was when I felt something. A warmth, faint but real. It was you, wasn't it?"

Tobias swallowed hard. He didn't know what he had expected, but this? A voice lost in the dark, searching for something—someone—to anchor it? He had only just stepped into this place, and yet it felt as though he had been drawn here for a reason.

"You asked who I am…" the voice continued, softer now, almost distant. "I believe my name… My name was Siegfried Di Roy. But many people… Many people knew me as a member of the Ten Nameless Oaths. I am the Oath of the Hollow Jester… the Hollow."

The chamber pulsed, as if the very air reacted to the name. The crystals lining the walls flickered, their glow shifting, casting eerie shadows across the ancient carvings. Tobias felt something stir deep within his chest, something he couldn't quite explain.

The Hollow Jester. The Ten Nameless Oaths.

The words meant nothing to him. And yet, the way Siegfried spoke them, as if they carried a burden beyond time itself, made Tobias certain of one thing.

"What are... the Ten Nameless Oaths?" Tobias asked, his voice laced with curiosity, though hesitation held him back. He was careful, wary of angering the Blade standing before him. The man radiated an air of authority, a presence that made the boy feel small, yet something in Siegfried's eyes told him this question was important—that it mattered.

Siegfried exhaled sharply, shaking his head in disbelief. "What do you mean?" he muttered, almost to himself, before fixing Tobias with a gaze that felt as though it could pierce through time itself. "We were the elite of the elite—a guild of warriors, scholars, and wanderers who roamed the world, bound by oaths stronger than blood. We were forged at the very brink of the Great Age of Ash, when the Fiends first tore through the Rift at the heart of the Casderia Waters. We were the last line between order and chaos, the ones who held the world together when the gods turned away."

His voice grew quieter, tinged with something Tobias couldn't quite place—loss, perhaps, or anger dulled by the weight of years. Siegfried's hands clenched at his sides as he stared past Tobias, his thoughts reaching into a past that no longer lived in the minds of men. How long had it been? How could history forget them, those who had given everything to protect it? The boy's question had been innocent, but to Siegfried, it felt like a knife driven into an old wound.

"I am sorry to hear that, mister, but... I've never heard of such a name or guild, nor anything about the Great Age of Ash," Tobias said, his brow furrowed as he stared at the Blade. The man—if he could be called that—returned his gaze, an intensity in his eyes that made the boy uneasy.

"I see…" Siegfried murmured, his voice heavy with something Tobias couldn't quite place. "We have been forgotten. Lost in time—"

"But… how can a sword make bonds or a guild?" Tobias interrupted, his youthful curiosity outweighing his caution.

"A sword? What do you mean, boy?" Siegfried snapped, his expression shifting from sorrow to confusion.

Tobias hesitated but then pointed directly at him. "All I see in front of me is a sword, sir."

The words struck Siegfried like a hammer to the chest. He stiffened, his thoughts spiraling as the crude reality settled upon him like a suffocating weight. The years—the centuries—suddenly made sense. The reason his body had not withered with time, the reason death had never come for him. He had not survived the ages as a man. He had been trapped—sealed within a blade. A prison.

But why? How?

Had this been his punishment for failing to protect the king? Was this the price of his failure? The questions clawed at him, but no answer came. Only silence.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I gotta go now… My mom is home alone, and I need to get back. But I'll come tomorrow! You can tell me everything then, I promise! I'll return!" Tobias said, his voice full of youthful certainty. He turned his back, his small figure illuminated by the flickering glow of the crystal before its light began to fade.

Siegfried watched him go, a deep longing stirring within him. He wanted to call out, to beg the boy to take him—to not leave him in the darkness once more. He yearned to see the light, to feel its warmth, to escape the endless void that had been his prison. But he stopped himself before the words could leave his lips. He couldn't ask a child to bear the weight of something even he didn't fully understand.

And so, he remained silent, watching as the last glimmer of light vanished, leaving him alone once more.