"You're my only hope, child."
A voice echoed faintly in the darkness—distant, almost fading.
Damien groaned, his eyelids fluttering open as if from a sleep that had lasted an eternity. His body ached, every muscle heavy with fatigue. When he stretched his arms, his hand struck something—or someone.
"WATCH WHERE YOU MOVE, YOU DAMN DEMON!"
The sudden shout jolted him fully awake.
"Demon? Wait—who are you? No... where am I?!" Damien blurted out, panic creeping into his voice.
As his vision adjusted, the grim reality of his situation came into focus. His ankles were bound by iron chains—linked directly to the man beside him.
The stench of rot and filth filled the air. Both of them were in a pitiful state—clothes torn to rags, bare feet caked in dirt, and skin smeared with a sticky, black goop that clung to their bodies like tar.
'What happened to me...? And what is this place?' Damien's heart pounded.
"Have you finally gone crazy? Well, all that beating from the damn pirates has finally affected your brain," the man exclaimed with a devious smile. "I do hope you die soon, having a demon as a cellmate is nothin' but bad luck."
"Stop calling me a demon, I am not a demon! See, I don't even have hor—"
Damien's words cut short as his hand touched his head. He could try to deny it, but he couldn't; what he felt were two sharp, goat-like horns.
"WHAT? WH-WHY DO I HAVE HORNS????" Damien shouted, his mind questioning everything that was happening.
'This wasn't what I remembered? Wait, I don't remember anything.'
It was as if his memory had been completely wiped clean. From his birth to how he got here—he couldn't remember anything at all but his name.
"Silence, or I'll split yer skull for the pleasure o' seein' ye stop."
The threat came as soon as a new man stepped inside the prisoners' room. He could be seen wearing a patch and a loose linen shirt, which strongly resembled a pirate.
The pirate guard then slid a key into the lock and opened the cell door.
"No tricks, demon. Come with me to the Vice-Captain—try to run and I'll break ye where ye stand," the guard instructed, immediately unlocking the chains that bound both Damien and his cellmate.
But as soon as the pirate got rid of the chains, Damien's cellmate punched the guard hard in the face and bolted for the door.
Before he could even reach the exit, the pirate quickly regained his footing from the punch, pulled out his pistol, and shot the man right through the head, killing him on the spot.
"Didn't I say no tricks, ye damned rat? Come on now."
~----~----~----~----~----~----~----~----~
Damien and the pirate traveled through the corridors toward the Vice-Captain's quarters.
As they walked, Damien finally confirmed his suspicions: he was on a ship. It was what anyone could imagine a pirate ship to be, yet it was slightly bigger than normal. This confirmed that these were not regular pirates, but a crew with a bit of notoriety.
The pirate stopped before a door and knocked. "Vice-Captain Ajak—I've brought the rare goods, as ye ordered." He then opened the door.
The room was shabby and messy. It reeked of alcohol, and rum bottles littered the floor. The Vice-Captain sat in his chair, already drinking another bottle of rum.
"Good work, Smith—leave him to me and fetch the Captain; he's got work for ye, and he don't like bein' kept waitin'."
"Aye, Vice-Captain." Smith gave a sharp nod, turned back towards the door, and left.
A moment of silence permeated the room with only Damien and the drunk Vice-Captain remaining. Damien was about to speak when Ajak interrupted him by throwing a bottle of rum his way, a clear invitation to drink.
"Heard ye been causin' mischief where the chains rattle. Out with it—what's yer name?"
Damien picked up the rum and took a sip. "Damien is my name."
"Ye got a last name, boy? Or did the sea take that from ye too?"
"No... no, I don't."
~----~----~----~----~----~----~----~----~
"Aye, Vice-Captain." Smith gave a sharp nod, turned back towards the door, and left.
A moment of silence permeated the room with only Damien and the drunk Vice-Captain remaining. Damien was about to speak when Ajak interrupted him by throwing a bottle of rum his way, a clear invitation to drink.
"Heard ye been causin' mischief where the chains rattle. Out with it—what's yer name?"
Damien picked up the rum and took a sip. "Damien is my name."
"Ye got a last name, boy? Or did the sea take that from ye too?"
"No... no, I don't."
"Well, Damien… d'ye even have an inkling why I called a prisoner to me quarters? It's about yer mana core. The Captain may not see it yet, but I knew the moment I laid eyes on ye. I saw it—a core in bloom, a sign of awakenin'. And it's unstable, lad. Left unchecked, ye could take this whole damned ship with ye."
With this shocking news, Damien's mind went into a panic. 'Mana core? Awakening? I don't have any idea what these are, and now he's saying I'm gonna die??'
He tried to calm himself down, but Ajak was quick to notice the fear on his face.
"This may be weird to ask, but what's a mana core and awakening?" Damien finally let out what was in his mind, only to get a judging stare from Ajak.
"What, ye been livin' under rock and chain all yer life? Or did the sea wash yer memories clean? Any fool knows this."
"I seem to have lost all my memories but my name."
"For gods' sake… losin' yer memory entirely? I can forgive ye for not seein' mana—not all be born sensitive to it—but not knowin' what it even is?" Ajak let out a tired sigh. "This world, Damien… it breathes mana. The sea, the wind, even the dead wood beneath yer boots. Every livin' being holds a core—a vessel of their mana. When it wakes, when it takes form, that's yer awakenin'. From then on… ye're Flowborn."
"I seem to understand now, thank you." Damien thanked the pirate, but his unease still lingered. 'Why help him and not simply kill him? That would be the easiest solution.'
"Why would you help me?"
Ajak stood up from his chair and walked in front of Damien in a menacing posture. Ajak had an immensely broad, muscular frame, the kind that looked carved from stone. His chest and shoulders were massive, with thick, corded muscles.
"That's somethin' ye'll learn soon enough…" Ajak paused, his eyes fixed on the door. He then broke into a wide smile. "…however, it seems we've got company—and they're here for you." With a smooth, menacing motion, Ajak unsheathed his sword.
~----~----~----~----~----~----~----~----~
In a land far away from the sea, stood a cavern. Its walls looked ancient, laced with glowing runes.
In the very middle of the cavern, a man could be seen meditating. Clad in layered robes of ash-gray and cream, the warrior carried an aura of profound calm and quiet readiness.
The man slowly opened his eyes, and a single whisper echoed in the vast, silent space.
"It has begun."