Her smooth hands grabbed an old book from the shelf. It was the dead of night, an irresponsible hour to put a child to sleep, but nevertheless she wanted to maintain the habit of reading stories. Legends of the past, even though she knew that they weren’t exactly right. It was, in her opinion, going to be more useful than the majority of stories for children in this time and age.
“Mama!”
The child beckoned, but she wouldn’t turn around. He didn’t have anything important to say regardless. She smiled, in fact, thinking of how far she’s come in all these years. With a delicate motion of the hand- a thick and grand book of history was pulled from the shelf. It had a monotone and brown cover, not inspiring anything particular- and yet it is an appearance many people came to associate with the past and with tragedy. But her son needn’t bother with everything just yet, merely the finale that saved the entire world.
“Just a moment mama, I’m almost- there.” She replied back, it was a game of theirs to call each other mama, regardless of who called for who. Playful, teasing, so childlike. It was fleeting, so it was best to make use of it while it lasted.
Bringing the book close to the edge of the bed, it was already open at the epilogue. The child looked at the page, already having learnt the configuration of the letters and few images even if they were reversed. He couldn’t quite read yet, but it was a good exercise to help him out. She smiled softly and snuggled closer to her sweetheart, then began reading with a voice as delicate as only a mother could.
“Thus ends the story of The Crusade… The shining Hero walked through the desolate lands. Each step he took sprung life from the cracks in the ground broken by mortarfire. His chin up and chest facing the skies, a mighty blade was holstered by his side with the Divine Frame on his back. Onward to the doorstep of the Steel Gates…”
The sky was dark. A coat covered the fluorescent energy-like skin that covered him. Seemingly made out of light, but even he was pale with this scenery. Periodically, heavy thuds would shake the ground as far as the eye could see. The caws of the scavenging birds filled the brief pause periods between the different steps made by the Steel Gates moving fortress. All was quiet on the Azrathian front. This wasn’t originally their land, rather the capital of Denora. But with such a devastating march wiping away all life, there was no option but to surrender ground and retreat. Had their counter offensive to strike at the old Azrath capital, they would be without land and the war would be over. Thankfully, Adin could not spread his forces thin enough to guarantee world domination in such a short period of time.
Breathe in.
The Hero kept moving within the grim and monotone scenery. Wherever he looked the flora was dead. Corpses littered the shattered streets and their stench ensured no other sane living being would step nearby. Who was even left to come here? History, races, all was wiped out. Yet with nothing but duty on his shoulders, The Hero marched on to catch up to the slowed Steel Gates. The Divine Frame was resting on his back- the blueprint for modern guns. What was only a legend was materialized with his arrival and was it not a time of war, then the world would rejoice with a beacon of progress in technology. It wasn’t like anyone but Denora used it really. Humans always hoarded their gear in fear. It was simply how they were constructed.
Breathe out.
Lightning occasionally struck the broken rocks that once helped logistics. It was as if the black clouds tried to cover the bleeding sky. No one was certain of day and night; it was always dark above with a red hue ominously announcing the end of the world. Finally, when he got within range of the fortress, he aimed his weapon at the base and fired a hook that would reel him to the “yard” of the Steel Gates. Flying would be too taxing and he couldn’t afford losing any bit of energy for this showdown. Everyone was counting on this one final blow directly to the Demonia King. With Doriot’s counter attack failed, this really was their last resort. It almost brought a tear to his chiseled, perfect face.
“…Once he would break through the gates Adin was hiding behind, in one great step he lunged over the vast staircase and marched forward towards the King’s throne. Hate flew out of him, but The Hero was impervious to all his impurity, to all his venom. Solemnly, he drew his sword of light and…”
One step forward.
And The Hero is clearly within the space of the Steel Gates’ yard. It was horrible, to have the memories of those who conjured him. He was a massive man made out of light, magic, hopes and dreams. His body given life through the human nature- it made him mortal as well. All the perfect characteristics that could be wished for by all four races- he embodied them. He was the manifestation of perfection, and yet that wasn’t enough to stop Adin before he enacted his revenge against the rest of the world. For a moment he pondered how well did the Great Tree hold up within Thamaenas. Outside of Kanfaldur that was basically a wasteland for all life, that was their last stand. Denora’s new dominion at the heart of old Azrath was a rising power, but Richard needed more time to set it up properly. Even with Hikari’s help… it was unfathomable how impossibly difficult this whole road was. And to think everything happened within the span of a few short years.
Thud.
With one blow, he pushed open the massive doors guarding Adin’s fortress. Or well, what was left of it anyway. On the floor, sitting, crouching, laying, walking around in circles. The few Titans that remained where all exhausted and drained of their powers. When The Hero walked in, they barely moved their heads to acknowledge his presence and kept going with their madness. On his side, there was no hostility either- almost as a gentleman’s agreement. They were conjured as well, only this time it was Adin that invoked and birthed their great power and thirst for malice. But that demonia… he was too intense even for the manifestations of war. About six or so were left standing, less than half of the original Titans. The Hero looked towards Lucifer- their mightiest and proudest fellow. His once colossal frame was reduced to a gigantic one, with the loss and incarceration of different Titans. It was rough and demented, something only a being summoned to this world from another would understand the severity of.
“A demonia half-blood. Can you imagine? DEAD. They locked her in the body of a STILLBORN child of impure descend. What mockery is this? Even his own people betray him. Adin has gone too far, even we can’t stop him n-“ Lucifer’s worried and depressed rant was brought to a sudden halt by The Hero’s hand on his elbow- the highest point a huge being such as him could reach without real effort.
“I know, but she’s being kept alive. A vessel hardly dies, is what I found out. There’s more of them- trapped inside weapons of war and wielded for a few brief moments by whatever weak souls manage to pick them up and fight Adin’s ghouls and some fanatic demonia. It’ll soon be over and you’ll be able to return, this is the final home run towards that end.” The Hero reassured his enemy, his charisma exuding and lighting up the place. Even his fluorescent skin began shining ever so slightly with more hope surrounding him. But the cruel truth is… he lied. Have everyone in the world die, he wouldn’t return to his plain of origin. Had Adin died- they wouldn’t find their peace in the Inferno either. This was a necessary lie to strike a stake at the evil’s heart.
“Then, we’ll do our best. Adin won’t be prepared for you in this state. Just… go and do what you have to do. We’ll see to it as well.” Another voice admitted with regret, not wanting to fight Adin out of fear, yet being forced to. For a fiery servant, Mephisto didn’t put much of a fight against The Hero. Even if they were supposed to fight till their last breath under direct orders, no Titan truly wanted to serve Adin anymore. Safe for the one that actually went against his word- everyone else just downplayed their own capabilities towards the end of the war when everything began turning into a desolate land.
Each giving him a pat on the back, the Titans helped The Hero’s morale and pushed him towards the staircase that led to the Demonia King’s lonely throne. For a castle of damnation, the horror wasn’t all too present. What would go down in history as Hell on Earth, Steel Gates were… lonely. It was puzzling to him, but The Hero didn’t bother much to think about the implications. Instinctively, he already understood that even his foe was at the end of his wits. His eyes closed once more, images flashing to everything he’s been through in his short lifespan. He grew in a year as others did in twenty. His power doubled every day. Hope was fueling his engine and drove the Divine Frame into existence. A weapon that was now all but out of ammunition. The steps felt endless, but eventually he would reach the doors which Adin hid behind. With a deep breath, he pushed them open and felt only emptiness behind their lock- as if something else opened them for him.
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“It’s over Adin. Your life ends NOW!” His powerful bravado flared up the cape and desolate outfit, sparkling fully. The sword of shining light was drawn, expanding to sizes times greater than his own stature. Built on the motivation and hard work of everyone, that blade had all the power it needed to take the life of the King.
“You… have gotten past my Titans. Satanael and Lucifer… befallen.” Adin spoke with a trembling voice and an even shakier hand. It slowly rose towards his adorned crown, grasping it with a weak hand. With one sudden extension, he crushed it to the ground. “It was my FIRSTBORN! ALL OF THE HOUSES. ALL THE ROYAL BLOOD I spilt for their ritual and they have FAILED ME. That was a SACRIFICE. MY SACRIFICE. HOW could my sacrifices not stop the rest of the world? This is how we end up? The Inferno couldn’t suffice me. Even the Titans. They are nothing more than a pile of WEAKLINGS. Even their traitor who turned her back on me… She is the scum of Demon kind! They allowed themselves to get captured, hanged and scorched! I should’ve sacrificed them too in order to create another Vylanir!”
The Hero remained… speechless. His common sense was too great to interrupt the tantrum of an insane demonia, but even then, he couldn’t delay much longer. The moment Vylanir was mentioned and the blade was grasped from the throne’s side, he took one breath and in one leap managed to close the gap towards the throne and ready slice his torso once. Adin could barely react and used pure mana to block out the majority of the slash. A magnificent feat that no mortal soul achieved before.
But he was all too familiar with Adin’s marvelous feats. Understanding of the world, prowess even in this state, it was as if a Divine being sent him down itself. In response, The Hero rushed a myriad of slashes coming from a variety of directions onto the handle of Vylanir. The excess length of the blade shattered off and created smaller beams in air that shot and pierced the throne, aiming for the king that managed to evade the majority of the blows. He became animalistic, walking on all fours (safe for one hand that held the blade) and leaped from one wall to another. Trying to predict the next leap of the king, The Hero decided to twist his own blade and release a burst of Pure Mana in kind, knocking the remnants of the throne and whatever adorned the room away in a shockwave.
The Steel Gates shuddered, none of them could afford an endurance battle. That’s when a damning feeling grasped the Hero’s light body. Immobile, he felt Vylanir pierce his chest. Without even realizing it, Adin managed to sneak behind him and deal a dirty blow. Shocked, The Hero knew pain for the first time in a long while. Translucid liquid poured from his injury and mouth, the light in his eyes flickered for a moment before reigniting in flames that overtook the entire room violently. His chest patched back up and he managed to blitz in front of the old demonia, grabbing his whole face with one hand and then pummeling him into a wall. There was rage, even if the initial sentiment was mercy. Everything paled away with his mortality threatened- what it truly meant to be “human” after all.
“You… smell more of demon than human. The Titans… dust isn’t coating you either.” The demonia king whispered in his enemy’s ear, using Vylanir to grasp his form once again. It was a weapon against all conventions- something on the scale of the Divine Frame at full power. It bypassed all rules and logic to the world, becoming its own fundament. With another flash, it started draining the light out of The Hero’s form, feeding off it instead of Adin’s years for a few brief moments. A second was all it needed his rejuvenating magic to work its trick and spur him back several decades. The weak ligaments tensed back up. The crunchy skin revitalized. His teeth grew back sharper and his horns honed shinier. With one gut knee, Adin sent The Hero flying.
“It is a clash of TRUTHS! No one can stop it now. I have unleashed Vylanir into this world and it will find its way back, forever. It will be the stake that strikes at Denora’s heart!” Interrupting him in the middle of his speech, the Steel Gates collapsed its legs and finalized its march, crashing onto what once was the outskirts of the Denoran capital proper. Its walls refused to crumble though, as its frame was as impenetrable as it could get. Matter of fact, it was what siphoned the Hero for his magic and restricted him to his natural capabilities. All but Adin and his Titans were suffocated. But, with the help of unseen aid…
“…once the battle ended, high in the skies above, The Hero used his last mercy to beg the Gods whose echelons he had reached. Out of his good heart, he begged them for three days and three nights to give us back all that was lost. To aid the world recover from its ashes, to grant Adin a new chance at life- born anew with a pure heart. To seal away all his evil within Vylanir and leave it on their table…”
Swing.
And the last limb of the bestial form was slain. A torso so deformed it could hardly be recognized as Adin’s floated through the cold space, where he and his ultimate enemy held their final clash. The Hero flapped his astral wings and looked down on the disgracious totem of a body. A tear fell down his remaining left eye and hugged his foe with the massive wings of light. “I’m sorry. I could not save you. It was that blade, a foreign influence or rather another thing that proved too strong. Let’s… go home. Please.” The Hero begged, his eyes tearing onto the bald head of Adin that was laughing maniacally.
“My demonia will alter history… and you will vanish from Earth’s past. Vylanir! It is Vylanir that I have created. It has been birthed into this world, and it will never go away! The evil that I have brought about has already infiltrated your reality! No one can stop it now! It will unleash that evil… unto the world! Hero…” But before he could finish his last words, Adin’s heart had stopped. His spirit resided within its carcass still, but it would remain as a prisoner. At the top of the world, where even its Pillars seemed puny, the last tear was shed. The Hero stopped sobbing and looked up to the sun, his tears crystalizing on his now rough cheeks.
Light up.
Blazing, the body of the Hero used the majority of its strength to collapse on itself. He forced all of his energy to meltdown and create a new world. Hugging his dear enemy, The Hero began descending at a maddening speed towards the world and landed where now Azrath resided and dug deep, drilling into the ground where he placed the now reshaped body of Adin- designed specifically to portray innocence and kindness. A body that would waste away in no time and allow his soul to move on and recycle through the Great Tree, safe from any kidnapping of the monsters. This affected the geography greatly, and once he rose from the Adian Crater, a supernova was released. A wave of energy so potent it birthed a brand-new Great Spirit of calamity. Thus, a new era of magic was brought about. The world healing at the expense of The Hero’s years. Beaten, but not defeated, he set foot into the new kingdom of Denora and rose it to new heights.
Following the years, all four continents would proceed to flourish, but at the expense of the past. Denora became a beacon of hope and technology, acting as a main hub for trades and research. Thamaenas, holding the Great Tree essential in the soul circuit was a vast land of nature where the line between the dead and the living was dwindling. Kanfaldur continued to act as the heap of resources and atrocities created by The Abyss. Home mostly to dwarves, their role is vital to the functionality of the world as the disparity of the world concentrated almost all of the natural elements used by the other continents within its mountains and naturally generated dungeons. And finally, the greatest land of them all- Azrath. The place closest to Inferno, everything from its geography to its residents being built with destruction in mind after the fallout of Adin’s rage years later. The crown continues to be passed down among the 4 royal families (of what originally was 73) and the land is avoided by anyone sane enough to care for their own good.
“…and once he descended from the skies on angelic wings, The Hero led us all into a hundred years of peace and glory.” She smiled, closing the book. By this time, her son had already fallen asleep. Closing her eyes, Christine lost the jovial excitement of reading for her child. She reconnected with reality and realized the lies that were written. After all, she should know the best. Adin’s true curse wasn’t the hatred he poured into the world, but rather the history he took away from everyone. All the records that weren’t saved in secret areas were destroyed in his crusade against life. Few survivors either went insane or could barely recall what happened. Remaining pieces were reverse engineered into existence and the world hardly managed to return after the tragedy. Everything was set back so much, but it advanced just as much paradoxically.
“I won’t allow them to reach you. Not one soul. Sleep tightly, for I will be watching over you.” Christine thought to herself, feeling the evil presence within her soul threaten the life of her child. It was impossible in her mind, but when has it ever been easy to navigate life? She turned on the safety light and silently left the room, closing the door for her sweet prince to rest and grow with an unshakable character, thirst for knowledge and purity of will. One she could never afford to have.