The Beginning of a Tale (Prequel)

The moon rises high over the country of Zhàndòujī, on a quiet land. The immaculate black sky seems to have absorbed the light of every star. The only thing contrasting with it is an orange sea covering the landscapes. The silence of the night is disturbed by the crackling sound of fire. A forest is burning. The trees are languidly licked by the flames, devouring them. The smoke covers the roof of the forest, letting nothing filter above the top of the tree trunks. 

At the center of these infernal specters, a bloody dance is taking place. The sound of metals crunching with each other resonates when the edge of the weapon meets. Men are fighting among the flames. What they are facing is indistinct, with the only clue being their immense humanoid shadows projected by the fire on the dying ground and the consumed trees. The cries of the fighters are muffled by the agony portending their imminent defeat while they die with nothing but blood flooding their throat and pain overloading their nerves. On the battlefield, trees are crumbling, either consumed by flames or crushed by a superior force. In this deadly mess, piercing screams can be heard and orders are barked while the men keep fighting the strange adversaries. 

In the panic and chaos, a shadow manages to extract itself from the raging blaze. The entity moves quickly and flees out of fighting, away from those fearsome enemies who bring down one by one the fighters. It moves through the trees, its footsteps crunching the dead leaves that have not yet been caught in the fire. The crackling sounds of the fire get louder than the screams as they move away, deafening the noises of the confrontation happening behind. The entity finally stops its race, once it is sure of being far away enough to no longer fear the enemy.

The orange light of the fiery tongues approaching illuminates his face. It is the face of a man which is revealed to the burning tree-eaters. A man with a wrinkled face and straight hair grayed by age, previously jet black in his younger years, falling on his shoulders. His bright red eyes to the dying forest a bloody tinge in their reflection. He turns them towards a white cloth he holds in his arms. There is a movement inside the garment. The man smiles as a silver eye peeks out between two folds and observes the flames. It is a child, with hairs as gray as the silver and eyes of the same color. This child, whose eyes are still pure, observes with a mixture of fear and fascination the movements of the hypnotizing fiery menace. However, his iris reflected shadows among the flames, indescribable silhouettes.

A terrible shiver runs through the man's spine. The opponents are already there. He places the cloth in his original position in order to protect that little kid hiding under it. He starts running as fast as his slightly injured and exhausted body lets him. As he runs, a mysterious red aura envelops his body. The mysterious energy seems to allow him to accelerate his course and go faster, without feeling the exhaustion of his limbs and muscles. 

It continues until the trees open into a small plain right in the middle of the forest. There are buildings and walls forming a domain further in the small plain. The noises of his pursuers draw closer. Without even thinking about it any longer he rushes towards the walls of the compound. Going through the door would reveal his presence here. He knows they will pass through the estate to find him. Without even having to climb, he propels himself with the same energy that allows him to accelerate and find himself on the other side of the wall the next second. At the back, at the opposite position of the door, sits a temple on a higher ground. It is the most resplendent structure, dominating the rest of the domain. 

This domain, this temple, he knows them like the back of his hand. Memories of his youth rush through his mind. He trained here, and it was here that he met a friend who now owns this place. Without further ado, he goes to the door of the temple and knocks on it. There, he is greeted by a man of more or less the same age. Despite the time and their old age, he recognizes his friends. He is visibly smaller than him, wearing his hair tied in a braid and whose yellow eyes reflect the light of the moon as well as blazes in the distance. The owner sees his friend and exclaims, with a smile on his face:

"Gisei.. What are you doing here so late? Come in, I'll make you some tea."

The so-called Gisei can't stay here too long. He doesn't want his friend to be unable to fulfill his duties by hurting himself. And he needs someone to watch the child. His gaze is saddened then. He hands the child to his friend.

"Tian-Han.. Please take care of him. His name is Kazuki, he's your nephew."

Tian-Han is surprised by the suddenness of this announcement but he looks at the child who points his face through the white garment. He smiles, softens by the gaze of the child.

"He has his mother's hair and eyes, but he looks more like you, my friend.. But tell me, Gisei..."

Fear crosses the words of Tian-Han, who now sound a worried brother knowing what this situation might imply. 

"...where is.. my sister?"

Shame is the only feeling that appears on Gisei's face as Tian-Han's crumbles.

"I'm sorry.. I couldn't.. I wasn't enough-"

His complaints are interrupted by heavy crashing noises from behind the walls. Gisei and Tian-Han look into each other's eyes and each nods in agreement. Everyone knows what to do. Tian-Han goes home with the child in the temple as Gisei emerges through the walls, calling the horrors that are after him. He knows he has no power to kill them right now. He has only one last mission, to take them as far as possible from Tian-Han and Kazuki, so that they lose track of them and sacrifice themselves so they'll finally calm down. Likewise, he disappears for a last race in the forest, very quickly joined by his pursuers.