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The curtains of evil were raised over the earth once. Its gigantic shadow cast over its people, sending them to the deepest darkness. But a hero emerged and shone his light. His light grew and waxed strong, shining brightly in that thick darkness and vanquishing it. That darkness was cast away, defeated and in shame. Its been centuries since it has been asleep with hopes that it would never raise its head again. But a prophecy foretells the end of the world once more, and also its salvation. One or the other, by the same hands. Which would it be? Will Nyne Lecrem cast even a greater shadow over the long-lived light of this world? Or will he be the dawn to the long night? ------------------------------------- [Cover is not mine. Copyrights to the cover solely belong to the artist] Other works: - Ascent Of The Sovereign - Alderix: Path To Star Player
A world that once existed as one.
Many centuries ago, the world was united under the heavens. One people, that understood each other's feelings; accepted each other's opinions and pushed forward to create a greater future for mankind.
So it was, until the first day of Heaven's War. A world that was once one split into many pieces. The unity between men was defeated and factions rose from the ashes of that fallen unity.
Heaven's War ate up the earth like a cankerworm. The entire history of the olden days was nearly lost, leaving the people with no past, no present and an uncertain future.
Like wildfire, the war spread across the lands, consuming everything it breezed past.
"Great Light of Unending Bliss," a voice roared from the skies and thundered down to the earth.
Angry yet soothing was that voice.
Rays of light pierced through the darkened clouds and shone over the earth and the forces of the darkness.
The young and beautiful blonde sorcerer had cast his spell over the armies of the dark side and thus, ended the war in favour of the side of good.
Mankind won.
Evil was subdued and hope gained another chance to live with mankind.
Evil may have been defeated that day but it was not stamped out.
That evil was merely buried under the rubbles of the chaos it caused, waiting patiently in its prison of darkness for the day it will rise again.
This sorcerer, despite the impeccable control he had over Aer — the energy of the mystical world, could not destroy the evil in the world in its completeness.
He sealed it away in the abyss in hopes that it will never raise its head again.
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The world as humans knew it was never the same after that war.
It was divided into five continents - Esterya, Nortvard, Wyesth, Syoutharn and Zentra. Each with its peculiarities and was made up of many kingdoms that ruled over the affairs of her people.
That was but one of the new development to have occurred. Mankind grew stronger and wiser, creating many things that fostered their growth.
Man grew versatile across all disciplines.
The most striking was in the practice of magic.
Magic, as it was commonly known, was everywhere, like the air they breathed. The number of people who could access magic and use it increased after the war and continued on that path even till the present day.
Magic, or sorcery, was not as common in the past as it is in the present day. In fact, it was a power that was feared or revered depending on who used it.
It has continued to grow and now, many of the world's population could at least use the most basic of spells in their day-to-day activities.
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"Although most people in the world can use magic and those that cannot yet are said to awaken theirs by the time they reach thirteen years of age...
"I'll be fifteen soon and still not able to use magic. I have been a laughing stock for my mates for some years now.
"Did the gods forsake me? A question I've asked myself over and over. Maybe I've become too desperate. Maybe I'm disappointed because I really hoped to become a sorcerer in my kingdom like my older brother, Fyve.
"Tch! It does not matter anyways. With each passing day, I give up on my dreams but my father still clings to them, even more than I do. He believes the gods of this world would deem me fit for their grace one day.
"Was he right or wrong? How would I know? I do not dine with them or engage them so casually as friends would do each other. Perhaps that's what is called faith...to some, foolishness. I have resigned myself to the hands of fate.
"I am Nyne, and this is my story."
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A cold morning, one of many yet to come.
In the present day's village of Payre, far east of the Yiterea kingdom in the continent of Esterya.
One good chop at a time. Nyne hammered his axe on the logs of wood that were laid before him with all his might. Each strike packed more power than the one before it, and he had been at this chore since the cock's first crow at dawn.
Nyne arched his back in a stretch and sighed.
"That hit a spot!" he moaned with satisfaction as he heard the cracking of his bones.
He felt more relaxed after the stretch and cleaned the sweat off his face with his dirtied shirt.
"Darn it! Thank the gods that I've finished with these logs," he said.
"I was beginning to feel it back there."
He gathered the smaller chunks of wood he had cut off together and tied them into bundles.
In rounds, he carried the bundles and loaded them into the cart not far from where he worked.
Thirty-five bundles of wood.
That was what he gathered this early and that meant a lot of money for first light, at least fifteen silver pieces for a bad market day.
"Hyah!" he commanded the horses that moved his cart with two strokes of his whip as he carried on into the main town of Payre village, having spent most of his morning at the outskirts.
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A boy, about three years older than Nyne, dusted his sandals and slipped his pallid feet into them. His name, Fyve.
"I'm off, father," Fyve said.
Fyve was Nyne's older brother and one of the sorcerer apprentices in the kingdom's school for mages. Fyve dreams of someday becoming a sorcerer for the Capital.
"Take care, Fyve," their old man said.
Remembering he had not seen his youngest son, he question Fyve, "By the way, where is your brother?"
"Oh! Nyne left before the first crow but he should be on his way back now."
The old man sneered and threatened hell on earth.
"He better be. I hope, for his sake, that he's not lazying about somewhere."
Fyve shot him a stare of disappointment. "Father..."
The old man sighed. "I'm sorry but you know how Nyne can get sometimes. Anyways, I need him to return as fast as possible so we can go open up the bar. Today feels like a day of good sales."
Fyve put his palms together, like one who prayed, shut his eyes and bowed. His actions was a spiritual affirmation of his father's wish for favourable sales of his ale.
"I'm off," Fyve said before he walked through the door.
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A little close to an hour after, Fyve and Nyne cross paths as they went on their ways.
"Oi! Fyve!" Nyne shouted from afar.
Fyve's horse approached speedily as he was in a rush and despite that, he still had to halt to speak to his brother.
"Father is waiting for you, you know."
Nyne scoffed. He could already see the face of his father yelling.
"Tch! Not like I expected any praises for at least leaving before the first crow."
"Come now, Nyne," Fyve said.
Fyve's words intended to calm his brother.
"You know how father gets sometimes. Anyways, hurry back home. I'll see you when I return."
The brothers bid themselves farewell and went on their ways.
