Near the lake

The heavy metal gates of the palace slammed shut with a loud clank after the hooded rider rocked out into the city of Roughbell, rustling up dust as he passed the closed gates of the many houses lining the wide main street.

There was pin drop silence with a sense of dread and unspoken fright hanging heavy in the metallic air of Macete. This feeling seemed to have enveloped the entire country in its grasp ever since a certain something had occurred within the boarders of Mecete.

Keeping his focus, the rider passed the main street and rode off into the dark, thick forest.

As he entered the fronts of the forest, the ravens, as they sat on the tree branches begun to cry out to him, as if telling him to turn back but also welcoming him into their home.

And they did not stop. Not until the rider reached the two hills covered by massive trees. He stopped momentarily, looking at his surroundings before riding off into the narrow pathway between the two hills. As he rode forward, the sound of water splashing onto rocks and side banks soothed his ears and he begun to follow it almost subconsciously as if it was ingrained in his muscle memory to do so.

Once he had reached the river hidden behind the two hills, he got off his horse, its nostrils flaring angrily, as he tied the leash to a tree nearby the river bank so the horse could drink some water.

He gave one last look to his surroundings before caving in the heaving a deep sigh which mirrored his exhaustion as he took off his hood and threw his coat over the horse's back.

His name was Cyrus vonstien.

The second son of the king of Lendorr and the strongest sorcerer known to this world, claiming that name after his great-great grandfather, who was widely known for his immense sorcery powers. Though that wasn't what he was remembered all across the world for.

'The great creator'

As they call him. He had used forbidden magic to seal off the forest of shadows for the sake of humanity, though, alas, losing his life in doing so. As the stories told, the magic he used was powerful enough to kill off a third grade sorcerer in normal conditions. However, while his great-great grandfather was extremely strong, both in terms of magic and strength, the forest had amplified the spell's powers by a thousand folds. Nothing and no one could possibly stand a chance against it in that moment with the only exception of someone who could use subordination magic and control

The source which had initially amplified the spell. Though, a person possessing such power is a rarity in this world. Only 1 out of 10 people are ever considered to be born with that power with, of course, "considered" being the key word here. And, unfortunately, at his great-great grandfather's time, there wasn't a single human being that existed possessing such power.

Cyrus, being as he was, had always wondered about the impacts and effects of the forbidden magic that his grandfather had used. So he studied. All that he could consume in the grand library of his father, he consumed. In the end, it wasn't enough. Nothing seemed to satisfy his hunger for knowledge of this world. Which was what drove him to leave his country and come to Macete to attend it's well known university in pursuit of accessing all the knowledge that he couldn't attain in his own country. Macete didn't treat knowledge as something that should be kept off. Be it about some dark, forbidden magic or on how to make a proper curry. Knowledge was supposed to be obtained and passed down to every corner.

Such was the belief of Macete.

The country of great knowledge and advanced development rates.

The wisdom piller of the world.

And Cyrus was glad to know that people sharing his ideals existed in this world. He was happy that they had the passion.

He really was happy.

Until something horrible happened.