Untold Backstory Mastery

Terry halted, bowing deeply. "Pardon me, my liege. I am struck by the good fortune of this moment. What brings the presence of our divine deity to this humble abode?" Bell remembered the state of Ephi, "I command thee to reach out to Aeria with all haste."

"Ae ... ria ...? Pardon me, my lord, but as you know, I am unable to commune with those whom I have not yet touched with my own hand," spoke Terry.

'Twas true, and Bell knew it full well. Yet, he was not without wisdom. "Art thou familiar with the events that transpired in the South Antemur District square last year? A battle of wind magic did rage, sending the stage and some of the onlookers aflutter. Two inebriated fools did ruin the performance. I smote one and she didst unwittingly collide with thee. Thou must have made contact. She is the divine entity known as Aeria, the Goddess of Wind. I implore thee to summon her to Antemur posthaste. Inform me of thy success."

Terry redoubled his efforts, steadfast in his devotion to fulfilling the divine edicts.

"At times, the greater a person's strength, the more impenetrable their mental fortifications. Contacting Aeria may require some time. I shall venture forth. I have a destination to seek." And with that, Bell vanished into the shadows, leaving nary a trace behind.

Two plates, bereft of sustenance, stood stacked with care in a dimly lit chamber, illuminated by the flicker of candlelight. "So you two killed him?" Inietta queried, addressing Tobias who sat, leaning against the iron-barred door. Tobias replied, "Sorry, we didn't mean to. He knew I was carrying a lot of strange things and wanted to take them. Then Ephi came to my aid with venomous arrows." At that moment, Tobias realized aught was amiss. His possessions, which should have been strewn about the alley, were nowhere to be seen. Tobias chose to believe that Bell had bested the situation, yet this enigmatic bracelet remained fastened to his wrist, its purpose and origins a mystery to him. He had long desired to inquire of Bell regarding the trinket, yet alas, he had been denied the opportunity.

Inietta inquired, "Did you see a letter or a strange card he has?" Tobias recounted out the events, "I only saw he received a letter before attacking me." Inietta stroked her chin, "So that's how you found out Rod's name." The previous day, Ephi had spoken of Rod's name ere Inietta had broached the subject, leading Inietta to believe that Tobias and Ephi were allies of Rod. "We have not had the opportunity to lay eyes upon the contents of the letter. Not even its exterior," Tobias rebutted Inietta's musings. Her curiosity piqued, Inietta asked with a hint of sharpness, "Then, how?" Awaiting Tobias's response with bated breath.

Tobias scratched his head, his countenance half-smiling, "Ahh ... He called it when we met ...?"

"Huh ...? There's no way I was fooled by Rod's stupidity

Hmm ... Besides, it just so happens that you are two in number. After what I've done in several cities, Ruzel always sends two people in anticipation of murder. At this rate, there's a chance he still doesn't know that I'm the culprit. After seeing Ephi's abilities ... to me, it's impossible that Ruzel will send someone who can use magic.

You know ... He really hates magic."

Two enigmatic figures, swathed in midnight garbs, arrived upon the crest of the Antemur wall. They managed to scale the walls with stealth. "So big! Since he can build this city in one night, he must be eminently powerful! I'd like to challenge him to a duel if I ever meet him!" exclaimed one of them, his stout hands raised in joyous excitement.

The other one paid no heed, her thoughts consumed by a greater purpose. With closed eyes, she placed her palms on the stone floor and focused all her senses on searching for something. Moments passed, and she suddenly sprang from the wall and began to run along the cobbled road. Her companion, taken aback by her sudden departure, followed after her, "Hey! At least give me a heads-up! What's going on?" Yet, his words fell upon deaf ears as she was absorbed in a far more pressing matter. "Hey! Can you even hear me?!"

"I can't feel Rod's presence. Was he killed? However, I felt something similar to Inietta. Surprisingly, it's close to the city center. This may be a trap, but I will do my job, Father Ruzel."

The day before the evening, a guard swung open the doors to the chamber of death. Mité and Anna stepped into the room, their eyes met with the grim sight of corpses covered in ethereal sheets. Mité approached one of the bodies, pulling back the shroud to reveal the face of the deceased. "Blueing skin ... a dreadful poison," Mité muttered.

Mité's hand was poised to touch Rod's head, but instead, he found himself tugging at his own tresses. A cascade of black and white hair fell from his scalp as he yanked them out with increasing frenzy until he was stopped, and remembered he was not alone. Mité's eyes darted towards the presence of others in the chamber, Anna, who stood motionless, her face devoid of emotion. Her only purpose was to carry out Mité's command, nothing more and nothing less.

"I almost went crazy. I wanted to believe it. You were there, right? Watching me closely." Mité's voice grew more composed as he gazed upon the stoic figure. "After finishing this, I will immediately come to meet you." With these words, he placed his hand upon Rod's head, ready to continue his work.

"Wait for me." Mité implored as he closed his eyes. In a flash, his consciousness was transported through the veil of time, and he emerged with a new identity, standing on the edge of the fires of destiny.

As the newborn's eyes fluttered open, a scene of merriment unfurled before him. Tiny hands waved in glee as two beaming faces hovered in the background, a wooden floor stretching beneath. A tiny foot took a faltering step forward, only to stumble. But fear not, for a man of great men stepped forth, his voice a soothing balm as he caught the tot. "Which one hurts?" he rumbled. "You're a strong kid, right? Up we rise!" And with that, the man lifted the infant with effortless grace, silencing his cries.

Years passed in a blur, as the boy grew and learned to walk, run, and play with his peers on the fringes of the village. Joyous laughter echoed through the nearby forests, where they hid and sought. Yet, as the sun began to dip low in the sky and the group returned home, they found the sight of horror. The once-bustling village was now a graveyard of silence, its walls bearing the marks of spear and sword, fire and blood. No soul stirred, and all that remained were ruins, with memories buried beneath.

These were naught but pure younglings, four in all, together in untamed wilds. They roamed the lands aimlessly, gorging on whatever sustenance they could lay their hands on, for wild herbs and weeds were their daily fare. As they sauntered on, a great tree loomed ahead, filling the sky with its towering presence. They chanced upon a village, but their cries for alms were met with naught but anger, for the villagers were suffering from want as well. Their cattle were felled by illness, their crops nibbled away by pests, and their rice fields barren and dry. Undeterred, the four decided to take to thievery, sneaking into neighboring villages under the cover of night. And as they fled, they sought refuge in the network of tunnels that snaked beneath dry riverbeds.

But their secret could not be kept for long, for the villagers soon caught wind of their misdeeds. And one day, armed men on horseback arrived, offering to trade the four younglings for much-needed provisions. For the price of slaves was high, and the villagers, bereft of their own offspring, saw no harm in capturing them.

Midday brought terror to the fore, as the younglings found themselves pursued by a relentless foe. In a cruel twist of fate, the bonds of shackles were cast, ensnaring the leg of one of their own. He stumbled, and fell to the earth, as Rod rushed to his side, struggling to lift him high. But his friend's voice, though faint, was firm, imploring him to flee, for their pursuers drew nigh.

With a heavy heart, Rod left his friend behind, joining the other two as they raced ahead, ducking into the labyrinthine tunnels that snaked beneath the riverbed. The sound of hoofbeats echoed in their wake, and a blood-curdling scream rent the air. But Rod pressed on, heedless, driven by fear until they reached the safety of their hidden lair.

As one of them enquired after the missing member, their grief burst forth, and they wept as one. They kindled a fire, seeking comfort in its warmth, and huddled together on the edge of the cave.

But their respite was short-lived, for as the night wore on, they were set upon by their captors. Rod, still half-conscious, bore witness to the horror of his friend's screams as they were dragged away. And so, their freedom was lost, their fate sealed in the shadows of that fateful night.

And so, they were sold into the bowels of the slave network, where filth and famine were a way of life. The once lush fields they roamed had given way to a world of darkness, where hope was but a distant memory. Rod's friends perished, one by one, succumbing to the horrors of disease, torture, and unremitting toil. Their bodies rotted away, locked in a cage until only bones remained. And Rod was left alone, a mere shadow of his former self, leaning against the bars of his prison with eyes that had lost their gleam. The mosquitoes feasted upon his flesh, but he felt no pain, his spirit long since broken.

But then, a man approached. His glasses are round and reflect the light. He peered in, a sinister smile playing upon his lips. "Hahaha, look at you," he cackled. "My name is Ruzel. From now on, you may call me your father." Rod, his eyes weak and hazy, could only make out a blurry silhouette before him. The future looked grim, and he knew not what lay ahead.

Mité's fraction of jet-black hair began to take on a ghostly hue, as silvery strands gradually began to infiltrate the inky darkness.

As the swift winds of change swept through, Rod found himself holding the prized relic card gifted to him by Lisa, the Goddess of Gambling. She bade him to wield its power with cunning and skill, and to make the most of its abilities.

But as time marched on, Rod found himself unable to see Ruzel, his "father," who was consumed by other pressing matters. He caught glimpses of the man from a distance, always accompanied by a young child, shrouded in bandages. Little was known about the mysterious figure, save for whispers of her immense talent.

Eventually, word reached Rod that he was to be dispatched to Antemur for the next few years, a far-off land where his skills would be put to the test. Though his heart burned with jealousy, he steeled himself to fulfill his duties. The frustration he felt honed him into a harder, more merciless one, who would not hesitate to take what he desired.