(Hello!! If you have any feedback, ideas, or criticism please comment or join my discord server. I want to make this story a long-running one, and to feel motivated i need to know what i should improve on. These first few chapters might be a bit rough to read through, sorry abt that)
"I wish I never escaped to the outside world!"
Raised in a mansion, untold of the horrors the world kept. Wars in every corner of the world, beasts plaguing the lands, powerful criminals hidden under the cities. With nothing but a torch to bring, Rene ran through the forest. The night sky was filled with soaring birds above, so elegant and free.
Why, why, why... he thought.
Life outside the mansion was not what he expected. He had felt trapped there, but he was never told it was for good reason. The manor's lord should've told him such. It may not have been too late. He could have turned back at that moment as he stopped to catch his breath. But he couldn't get himself to. The maids would miss him, wouldn't they? Would he be so slothful and leave them behind? His heart told him it wasn't worth it. His mind told him he wouldn't survive without knowing how to fight.Â
Those birds. They were powerless. There would always be a stronger, better version of them. His eyes widened as another flying creature zipped across the sky, instantly snatching one of them with its mouth. At that moment he gave into his mind. He wanted to get stronger.Â
But even after he gained power, he wasn't strong enough to save his friends. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he covered his mouth, gazing down at their bodies. The warmth of life had long since drained from them. Their hands, once steady in battle, now lay limp, fingers curled like they were still reaching for their swords. Their eyes—some closed, some still open—held the final remnants of fear, desperation, and trust.
Trust in him.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. Trust? What a cruel thing. They had believed in him. Followed his lead. Died because of it.Â
Something snapped inside him. He couldn't bear to look at his blade anymore. With a trembling hand, he let the weapon drop to the blood-soaked earth. It slowly shattered before fading into nothing.Â
The Dusk Blade. The blade symbolizing the end of an era. How ironic it was.
It was over.
Not just the battle. Not just his comrades.
His purpose. His future. His career. He had no idea what to do next.