BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
The sharp, thunderous detonations echoed through the cold mountain air as Plitterback
flowers burst open in brilliant, riotous explosions of color. Each blast scattered clouds of powdered pigment, painting the world in vibrant hues of crimson, sapphire, and gold. The children of Seafth Village no older than six dashed and danced through the vast fields of Plitterback, their laughter ringing like bells against the jagged peaks that loomed above. With every eruption, the youngsters' skin and clothes became dusted with the bright pigments, transforming them into living mosaics of joy and chaos. "Aneria!" came the call, sharp and clear, cutting through the cacophony. The voice belonged to a woman standing at the edge of the flower beds, far from the riotous play. She watched with a measured calm, her bright golden-brown eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the winter sun. Her black hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, strands catching the faint glimmer of the cold light. She wore a gown that seemed to capture the very essence of the mountain sky,long and flowing, layered in shimmering pale blue fabric that glittered faintly, like frost caught in moonlight. The fabric darkened gradually at the hem, edged with a delicate band of gold trim that caught the sun with every subtle movement. Draped across her shoulder was a sash of rich teal, embroidered with swirling, vine-like patterns in gold thread, the edges scalloped with a golden border that spoke of quiet, refined tradition. A wide golden belt cinched her slender waist, from which long, thin cords dangled, tipped with small, glistening green gemstones that tinkled faintly with each shift of her stance. On one side, a sheer white overskirt floated lightly to the ground, transparent as morning mist and bordered with gold.These garments soft, rich, and timeless marked her as one of the people of Seafth Village, nestled high upon the eastern mountains. The village itself was a harsh and unyielding place, perched where the cold gnawed at the earth and only the stubborn Plitterback flower dared bloom. No magic stones lay beneath this frozen ground to spark desire or conquest. No crops could be coaxed from the soil, except for the wild Plitterback, bitter and useless as food to any but the frost-born. It was a place shunned by many a land deemed too cold, too barren for prosperity or war. But for the frost-born humans known as the Dialas, it was home. A Race looked down upon by the warmer world, capable of thriving in frostbite's embrace, and the only ones who could taste the bitter blooms of the Plitterback. For centuries, Seafth Village had remained quiet, untouched by the turmoil of the wider world beyond the mountains. The frost-born lived their secluded lives, bound to the cold and the flowers, their peace unbroken. The woman placed one hand on her hip and sighed, the sound almost lost beneath the distant booms. "Aneria!" she called once more, voice sharper this time. "Your father's coming back from the hunt." At those words, a small figure emerged from the riot of color a girl, wild with dust and bright pigment, her ginger hair a fierce flame against the snow-white pallor of her frostbitten skin. Her eyes mirrored her mother's, warm golden brown, shining with a mix of awe and hope. Aneria's gaze lifted toward the woman, bright with quiet excitement beneath the mottled hues that clung to her hair and face."Father's back," she whispered to herself, the words trembling on her lips like a fragile promise.Her father had been gone for six long months for the hunt. Her father was not a hunter in the traditional sense, for the frost-born abhorred bloodshed peace was their sacred creed. The "hunt" was a ritual of duty rather than predation: the men of the village descending the mountain to pay their taxes to the Dealopin Empire, and to bring back news of the wider world, wrapped in shadow and mystery beyond the frost. "Edward," Aneria said, turning to the boy beside her. His curly blond hair was a bright contrast to the winter's bleakness, his eyes sharp and blue as the mountain sky. He was a couple of years older than her but shared her impatience. "Our fathers are coming back from the hunt." Finally!" Edward shouted, throwing his hands up as another Plitterback exploded at his feet, showering him with dazzling powder."Aneria!" her mother's voice rose again, edged with frustration. "I've got to go before your mother actually kills me." Aneria smiled, mischievous but obedient, and snatched up a basket beside her, already brimming with Plitterback blooms that had erupted. Barefoot, she ran through the flower beds, nimble and swift, weaving past other children who scrambled for the precious flowers. Her feet sank into the cold snow beneath, the chill biting but familiar.Reaching her mother, Aneria placed the basket gently in the woman's left hand, while her right was taken in a firm, steady grasp. Together, they stood on the threshold between the wild, bursting life of the Plitterback fields and the cold, waiting silence of the village,where the mountain's harsh breath held its secrets close, and the return of the hunt promised change. They trudged deeper into the forest, the world around them swallowed beneath a thick blanket of snow. The trees stood tall and silent, their bare branches dusted white, like sentinels guarding secrets older than the village itself. The only sound was the soft crunch of their footsteps, muffled by the frost-laden earth. "Mommy," Aneria said, her voice a bright thread in the quiet cold, tugging at her mother's hand as she skipped eagerly through the snow. "Can we please go to the lake? I want to find a gift for Daddy."Anitta shook her head, a gentle but firm disapproval in her eyes. "The lake is far, bean. And we still have to get home before dark. There's Plitterback to cook. I'm making stew tonight."Aneria's small hand slipped from her mother's grasp, and with a dramatic huff, she collapsed onto the snow, her pale cheeks flushed with stubbornness. She lay flat, staring up at the dull gray sky. "I'm not going anywhere. If I can't get that flower for Daddy," she said, voice tight with childish defiance, "then I'm staying right here."Anitta stopped, baffled by the sudden rebellion, hands settling on her hips as she regarded the girl sprawled on the frozen ground. "Gosh," she muttered, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, "I've truly raised a brat." Aneria's lips curled into a mischievous smile as she closed her eyes. "And I'm one persistent brat," she whispered, daring her mother to argue. Anitta laughed, the sound bright and warm against the cold, and without hesitation, she sank down beside her daughter, settling into the snow. "Don't forget, bean," she said softly, "I raised you. The first brat in this village. And believe me, I could go on for hours."Aneria shot her a mock glare, her pout deepening. "Mommy, you're so childish. Everyone calls me the baby."Anitta just smiled, breathing in the crisp mountain air, the cold biting at her cheeks but never dulling her warmth. "Aneria," she said after a moment, voice dropping to a softer, almost secretive tone, "do you want to hear a story?"Aneria's eyes flickered open, curious despite herself, and she nodded eagerly. Anitta drew a slow breath, her gaze distant as if seeing beyond the snow-laden trees to a place lost in time. "This is a tale like no other," she began, her voice low and steady. "A tale that no one can say if it's true... or just a myth born of hope. But sometimes, hope is all we have."Anitta's breath lingered in the frigid air as she settled beside Aneria, the girl's wide eyes reflecting the bleak white of the winter woods. "Let me tell you a story," she said softly, her voice threading through the stillness like a whispered incantation."It is the story of a Promised Vael'Isari, an ancient figure, said to be destined to return and bind this fractured world back into one, to cleanse the corruption and bring peace once more." Anitta's eyes drifted toward the snow-veiled horizon, as if the very trees themselves bore witness to the tale. "Long ago, in an age swallowed by time, there lived two rulers of unparalleled power, a Vael'Isari and a Zhal'Morak. They governed the world with a steady hand, a balance struck between light and shadow. The people flourished, united beneath one empire, and the drums of war fell silent. Peace was no mere dream; it was the breath of their days." "But such harmony breeds envy," Anitta continued, her voice dropping to a hushed warning. "There came creatures greedy for power, creatures whose hearts were black with hunger for the rulers' strength. They sought to seize what was not theirs. Their desire was madness, for the Vael'Isari and the Zhal'Morak were beings of divine might, beyond any mortal's grasp." "Yet, fate turned against them, for the Vael'Isari carried a child, one born with the mingled power of both Vael'Isari and Zhal'Morak, a child conceived in the womb of destiny itself. This child was said to hold the key to the world's salvation, a power vast beyond imagining, but the child was vulnerable, too young to wield it." "On the day the child was born, a pair of winged beasts descended, Firon, the cursed sky-riders, fierce and cunning. They stole the infant from its cradle, taking it to forge a weapon of terrible magic. With dark sorcery, they bound the child's essence into a crystal and called it Lumina, a vessel of unimaginable power. And something unexpected, some of the child's essence spread across the world transfering magic to random people around the world, no matter the race, suddenly became able to do extraordinary things. People thought only the rulers could. The Vael'Isari, mortal by choice, fell in the brutal assault. Once immortal, now shattered, torn down by those desperate to seize the child's precious gift. And in that final, shattering moment, the infant's life was extinguished. But before her last breath faded, she unleashed a final curse: she stole their wings. From that day forward, no Firon bore wings again, none could keep what had once defined them, and none were ever born with such grace anew." Aneria's breath caught, her small hands clenched tight against the cold. Anitta's voice grew heavier still, weaving the tale with threads of sorrow and fire."The Firons' theft unleashed chaos. News of their terrible deed spread like wildfire. Other creatures, monsters, men, and things that crawl in shadows rushed to claim the Lumina, to seize its power for themselves. The world shattered into war, a thousand years of blood and fire. From the Zhal'Morak's grief and wrath, the Kroths were born, monstrous beings thriving in darkness, relentless and merciless. The Zhal'Morak unleashed them upon the land, each horror multiplied a hundredfold, his fury made flesh to sweep away all who dared defy him." "But then," Anitta's voice fell to a whisper, "as suddenly as he came, the Zhal'Morak vanished, swallowed by the same darkness he conjured. The war faded, leaving only scars." "In the aftermath, the world was cleaved into Eight great Empires, each holding a fragment of the shattered Lumina, unequal in size and power. The Empires turned their gaze inward, thriving upon their pieces, while distrust and hatred festered among them. The strongest among these was Dealopin,the eastern realm where our village lies, home to Elves, Shifters, and the frost-born like us, whose numbers dwindle with each passing year. The Sakaris Empire, hated and feared, because of their dragons. Then came the Rowe Empire, the Waterlands, Sasharis, Firon and Bingseosa, all locked in endless struggle, coveting magic crystals and precious stones that fuel their wars." "Through it all, the people only have one hope: that the Vael'Isari will return. A divine figure, the Vael'Isari promised to us through prophecy, who alone can mend the broken world, cleanse the sins of greed and bloodshed, and end the nightmare of the Kroths. Until then, all we can do is wait."Anitta's voice fell silent, the last words hanging in the frosty air.A faint sniffle broke the stillness. Anitta glanced down and saw tears tracing bright paths through the powdery colors on Aneria's cheeks."Bean" she said softly, brushing the girl's tears away. "Are you crying?"Aneria wiped hurriedly at her eyes, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Why did the child have to die?" she murmured. "And the Zhal'Morak,why was he left alone in this world? I pity him."Anitta's brow furrowed with surprise. "Most do not pity the Zhal'Morak. They mourn the Vael'Isari and her child, but not him. He is a monster"Aneria stood, brushing snow from her clothes. "Mommy, do you truly believe the Vael'Isari will come back one day? That she will set the world on a just path?" Anitta nodded, rising beside her. "I do. From all the stories I've heard, she was just and kind,her heart full of mercy."Aneria sighed, pressing her forehead to her palm. "You're far too kind for this world. Why would the Vael'Isari save a world that killed her and her child? If I were her, I'd burn it to ash. I'd make sure the Firon Empire was wiped clean from the face of the earth." Her mother bent down, concern softening her features as she grasped Aneria's hands gently. "Remember what I've taught you, bean. Always be kind. Never bring harm, no matter the darkness you face. Work to make this world better, even when it seems impossible." Aneria nodded half-heartedly. "Yes, mother. Kindness is key. Mercy is what we must show."Anitta shook her head with a small smile. "We'll see how well you remember that when you start helping around the village."Before Aneria could protest, her mother's mind was already made up, a sudden, piercing scream shattered the winter's calm, the scream of terror, raw and desperate, rising from the direction of the village. "Daddy..." Aneria whispered to herself, a fragile thread of hope tangled with dread in her voice. The word barely escaped her lips before her mother acted. Anitta's hands moved swiftly, tearing the veil from her own head and pressing it over Aneria's. The soft fabric slid down to shield the girl's face, cloaking her in shadow. "Stay here, Aneria," her mother commanded with a quiet urgency. "Don't move. Don't come out. I'll come for you."Before Aneria could answer, before she could ask where she was going, Anitta was gone, vanishing like a wraith into the trees, swallowed by the dark woods that encircled the village. A cold silence fell. Minutes stretched thin as Aneria crouched behind the rough bark of an ancient pine, heart hammering beneath the veil's weight. The world held its breath. Then the sky began to change. Where once the sky was bright with nothing but cold mist, it was now dark. The moon had risen and the sun had long set. A deep, unnatural crimson spilled across the horizon. At its center, a blood-red moon hovered, casting its eerie glow over the snow and trees alike. Aneria's wide, frightened eyes traced its ominous light as if it were a herald of doom itself.From the village, carried on the icy wind, came screams. Sharp, desperate, broken by anguish. Aneria twisted, her gaze snapping to where smoke now curled into the darkened sky. The smoke bled upward like black poison, blotting out the stars, blotting out hope. Beneath her trembling feet, the earth thrummed. A low, ominous vibration pulsed through the snow. Two possibilities twisted through her mind like knives: an army advancing upon them, or the Kroths, those creatures of shadow and hunger, swarming their homes. The fear clawed at her throat, squeezing tighter with every passing second. Her parents... where were they? Were they safe? Or were they caught in the chaos? The veil felt stifling now, a shroud she could no longer bear. "I must be brave," she whispered, voice barely a breath. "I cannot hide while my home burns."With trembling hands, she pulled the veil from her face and tied it around her waist. The cold bit at her bare feet as she launched herself into the snowy woods, running blindly toward the smoke and screams. The acrid scent of burning wood and flesh hit her long before she saw the village. It was thick and choking, curling like a serpent through the trees.Fifteen agonizing minutes passed as she pressed forward, branches clawing at her arms, snow dragging at her feet, but she would not stop.When Aneria finally crested the ridge and looked down, the village she had known all her life lay broken and burning beneath her. Once, this place had been a sanctuary, a jewel nestled in the valley between towering, snow-covered peaks. She remembered it clearly. Wooden houses huddled close against the cold, their steep roofs heavy with snow. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and warm golden light spilled softly from windows, spreading like a balm onto the frozen ground. Narrow dirt paths wound through the village, lined with fences, barrels, and stacks of firewood. Torches and lanterns flickered at every doorstep, their flames dancing in the chill night air. Bridges arched over frozen streams, and wooden fences enclosed yards where animals once grazed. But now, the valley was a graveyard.
Bodies lay scattered like broken dolls across the snow, piled one atop another in grotesque mounds. Aneria's breath caught as her eyes took in the horrors. Heads severed from their bodies. Crimson rivers of blood pooling and freezing beneath them. Faces she once knew stared blankly up at the burning sky. Friends, neighbors, children she had played with and laughed beside now lay silent and still. The scent of death was thick in the air, a bitter, coppery stench that turned her stomach. She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, fighting the rising tide of nausea. "Don't look," she croaked, voice hoarse and cracked. "Don't look..."Tears slipped down her cheeks, carving clean trails through the grime and powdery colors that stained her skin.Her heart shattered, piece by piece, beneath the burning sky. "KILL THEM ALL!"
The shout tore through the night like a savage blade, sharp and merciless. "Leave no one alive!" Aneria's heart slammed against her ribs like a war drum. Panic surged through her veins as she darted toward the nearest cabin, a desperate refuge among the chaos. Her breath came in ragged gasps, cold and harsh against the icy air. Without a second thought, she slipped inside the wooden shelter, the door creaking shut behind her like a whispered prayer.She curled into a trembling ball in the darkest corner, pressing her hands over her ears to shut out the horrific sounds. Screams. Cries. The clash of steel. And above it all, the terrible orders bellowed by bloodied men. Her small frame shook uncontrollably, the cold seeping into her bones, but still she fought to steady herself. "B-breathe, Aneria... You have to be b-r-ave," she whispered through chattering teeth, repeating the mantra to herself like a spell. Her mind clawed for courage, for strength, for hope.Summoning what little composure she could muster, Aneria crawled toward the window, her fingers numb against the rough wooden floor. Slowly, carefully, she raised her head to peer out through the cracked glass.Outside, the nightmare took shape. There knelt a man, bare-headed now, his armor soaked with blood and grime. His broad shoulders trembled beneath the flickering torchlight. Though Aneria could not see his face clearly, she recognized the patterns on his skin and remembered her fathers words, long ago about how the Firon race had patterns on their skin. Her breath hitched. The realization crashed over her like a tidal wave. The Firon army had descended upon Seath Village.But why? Why would they attack this frozen wasteland? This forsaken place?Where no crops grew, where nothing of value thrived.
The man knelt before someone whose figure was shrouded in shadow, but the voice, cold and commanding, carried over the crackling flames. "Hunt down those who escaped. Leave none alive."Aneria shifted slightly, trying to get a better view, but before she could move more, the cabin door exploded inward with a violent crash. A towering figure filled the doorway, a mountain of a man at least ten times her size. His eyes were cold and unblinking, slitted like a serpent's, and his scarred face burned with the heat of old wounds.Before she could cry out, he seized her by the tangled curls of her fiery hair and dragged her from the cabin like a ragdoll. Her screams shattered the night, louder and more desperate than any she had heard before, as she clawed at the snow and the soldiers who passed, her hands grasping for anything to hold onto.Her tears mixed with the biting cold as she was hauled through the ranks of armored men. They stopped before a pair of gleaming iron boots. Aneria dared not lift her gaze, too afraid to face whatever horror waited above. "Your Majesty," the giant growled, releasing her hair and bowing low. "Found this one hiding in one of the cabins."The words pierced Aneria's mind like shards of ice. The man towering above her must be the one the Firon bowed to, the leader of this nightmare. Slowly, trembling, Aneria dared to lift her eyes.What she saw froze her blood. There, in the cruel light of the fire, was the unmistakable face of her mother. Or rather, her mother's severed head, held by the hair in the iron grip of the man before her.Blood dripped from her mother's pale throat, pooling like a dark stain at the feet of the Firon emperor. Kaida Keres Vuskasin, the merciless ruler of the Firon Empire. His cruel gaze, bloodshot and hungry for power, met hers. The fiery blood moon above seemed to pale beside the fury burning in those eyes.And then, something shattered inside Aneria. A mad, bitter laughter burst from her lips, cutting through the chaos like a blade. The soldiers whirled, searching for the source of the eerie sound, and Kaida's cold eyes narrowed with sudden interest.Aneria stared at him with a fierce, unyielding hatred, the kind only born of unbearable loss and unquenchable rage, before darkness claimed her.Silence fell, heavy and oppressive. "Should I kill the child, Your Majesty?" the giant with the scar asked quietly, bowing his head. Kaida considered for a long moment, his gaze lingering on the unconscious girl. Then, with a cruel smile, he shook his head. "No. She's a beauty. She will join my harem as a slave concubine,Neketis. We shall see what use she has."The scarred giant nodded, hoisting Aneria over his shoulder like a prize. Suddenly, a breathless soldier burst from the woods, shouting, "The Royal Dealopin army is coming up the mountain! The General leads them!"Kaida's eyes flickered with calculation. "We will take the mountain tunnels. Mount your steeds. We ride for home." With that, the Firon emperor mounted his black stallion, his soldiers following in a grim procession. The flames consumed Seath Village behind them, its wooden homes reduced to ash, its fields soaked with blood and strewn with bodies.Twenty-five minutes. That was all it took. A village that had stood for a thousand years, destroyed in less time than it took to light a fire. No one survived that night. The reason for the Firon attack remains a mystery whispered in shadowed halls and taverns, spoken only in hushed rumors. Some say it was the curse of a prophecy, one that foretells the end of empires and the rise of a new power