The place was strange, yet it felt oddly familiar. It looked like a human village, except the inhabitants were animals—ethical creatures, living in harmony. Cubs played with wooden sticks, and though the forest had grown vast, there was something serene about this land.
Aron was lost in thought. He had never imagined such a place existed.
Ray: "Aron?"
Aron quickly snapped out of his thoughts.
Aron: "Yes?"
Ray: "Warrior, are you lost in thought?"
Aron: "Surely, yes. I never knew a place like this existed. To be honest, I thought your kind only existed in mythical tales. But the more I move forward, the more truths I uncover."
Ray: "Surely, warrior. We may resemble the animals you know, but we have powers, a stronger physique. But let's skip that for now. Let us meet our Master."
Aron: "Sure," he replied happily.
They walked calmly through the village. Aron noticed the tigers watching him. Slowly, they surrounded him, but not in hostility. Then, one by one, they gently kneeled before him as a sign of respect. Aron was surprised but also humbled. He too knelt in return—it was an honor.
Ray: "They were waiting to meet you—the warrior who will protect the entire world. Now, let's walk towards our Master."
They finally reached the entrance. It was like a dark grave, an eerie cave cloaked in shadows.
Ray: "You must go alone from here, warrior. I will join you in a moment."
Aron nodded and stepped into the darkness. The cave was silent and pitch-black, but faintly, he heard a voice echoing deep within. Following it, he finally saw an old figure, the oldest of them all.
Kron: "Indeed, a warrior you are. I can sense the scent of revenge and vengeance running through your veins. It is an honor to meet you—the holder of the Black Sword."
Aron: "Are you the Master Ray told me about?"
Kron: "Indeed, I am. My name is Kron. And yours would be… Aron."
Aron: "Yes. Ray told me you hold the secrets of the sword. I want to know everything. Why did it choose me?"
Kron: "Very well, child. I will tell you. But you must first listen to the story of the old era…"
Kron's voice grew deeper, echoing like an ancient chant.
"Millions of years ago, these lands were filled with peace. Everyone loved one another, played together, celebrated together. There was freedom, harmony, and joy. But then… there was a man—a broken man. He was ordinary once, but he fell into darkness. He became destruction itself. He hated war, yet he became the embodiment of it. He wanted to wipe out humanity from this world—to bring extinction.
Every step he took brought chaos. For millions of years, no one could defeat him. But in that era, an unknown being forged a blade—a living blade so powerful it could erase everything. The blade was placed upon a hill, radiating an immense aura. Even the darkness feared it from afar.
But the dark one searched endlessly for the blade to destroy it. Meanwhile, he devoured humans, for they were weak with nothing but weapons of wood and steel. He killed them all. In his desperation, the darkness created twelve shadows—each a powerful, menacing force. But they were imprisoned within the dark lands, bound by the blade's aura, for the sword had no successor. Still, the darkness ruled, creating his Kingdom of Hell."
Kron's eyes glimmered as he continued.
"But along with the blade, another thing was born—the Flame of Hope. It symbolized that hope still existed in this world. After thousands of years, a man was finally chosen by the blade. He was the first to conquer it. The black aura fused with blue flames… a hellish sword capable of slicing mountains. The barrier around the dark lands shattered, and the shadows attacked. But that man fought them single-handedly. He killed thousands and defeated the darkness itself. His name… was Norm Helm, the Warrior of Helm."
"But the darkness did not truly die. It resurrected in another form—its true form—a menacing evil known as Xeudeus."
Kron's tone grew sorrowful.
"The blade made Norm weak—not physically, but mentally. The sword always chooses someone who has experienced the depths of pain and loss. They say the one who wields the blade can even write their own future. But Norm didn't. He had dreams, a peaceful life he wished to build. He sailed across lands, searching for peace, and finally created the valley he longed for… Norm's Valley.
But in the end, he too died. The flames faded. We turned to stone… waiting. And now, after centuries, you have awakened us."
Kron knelt before Aron.
"You are the one who can save everything now. And the answer to your question of why the blade chose you… is simple. It found in you everything it was looking for. That potential lies within you."
Aron sat down, his eyes filled with tears.
Aron: "But why… why did my parents have to die? Was it because the blade chose me?"
Kron: "No. That was their fate. They died for good. But you must avenge their deaths."
Aron clenched his fists, his voice trembling with rage.
Aron: "I will kill them all. I won't spare a single one! With this blade… I'll end them!"
Suddenly, the blade reacted. It began to rise on its own, emitting a dark black energy.
Kron: "Aron, stop!" he shouted.
The cave rumbled violently. A blue light erupted, shaking the very ground.
Kron: "Control it! Stop!"
A deafening sound filled the cave. Then, silence.
When the dust settled, the cave returned to its original stillness. Aron lay unconscious. Kron rushed to him and gently placed him on a stone bed.
Then, Kron saw it—a small glowing blue mark on Aron's neck.
The mark of destiny.
—The End—