Inside a dark cavern on the edges of the western coast…
The air was thick with the stench of rot and salt, mingling with faint wisps of smoke rising from black candles, melting slowly along the jagged stone walls.
The silence was suffocating—so deep, even sound seemed afraid to stir. And everything… groaned in quiet agony.
Riven awakened.
His eyelids fluttered with weight. His head felt wedged between a hammer and anvil. Pain throbbed at the base of his skull, and when he tried to move… he realized his hands were bound.
Dark iron shackles gripped his wrists, tethering him to the rear wall—cold… but pulsing with a sinister energy.
He exhaled slowly, opening his eyes fully.
Insects danced along the walls.
And the air… was dense.
As if the place was beating with a heart unseen.
Then he heard the voice.
"Awake, are you?"
It was coarse, untamed—like it had been carved from a madman's mocking laugh… and beneath it, fire.
And he saw him.
Standing just a few steps away was a young man with wild white hair, like frozen flames licking the air, standing with a confidence that needed no weapon.
He wore a black robe, frayed at the edges, etched with faint symbols—curses, perhaps, long forgotten on purpose.
His eyes?
Ash-grey… unblinking… but shimmering with something indescribable: a blend of rage, amusement, and restrained madness.
He stepped closer.
"I was betting on when you'd open your eyes."
He said it in a quiet tone, with a faint smile that held no kindness at all.
He ran his fingers across a flickering flame, then muttered:
"It was enjoyable watching you unaware… not speaking, not fighting, not pressing your lips tight. You were quiet as a corpse—and for a moment, I wanted to cut you open and see what's inside."
He laughed.
A short, fractured laugh… like it came from a throat that had forgotten how to laugh.
Then, fixing his gaze on Riven, he added:
"Do you know where you are?"
He gestured toward the surrounding shadows:
"Here… the beginning shall be written.
Our beginning… the beginning of our world."
He paused, as if giving Riven a moment to absorb it.
Then he stepped closer—close enough for their breaths to collide—and whispered:
---
"Don't be afraid… you won't die today."
Then he smiled again—that smile that offered no comfort.
"At least… not before the show begins."
But Riven did not stay silent.
His veins boiled, his chest heaved like fury itself was trying to claw its way out of his ribs.
He strained his body with all the strength he had. The chains rattled—then he roared, voice raspy and stained with blood and disdain:
"Who are you, you bastard?!"
"What did you do to me?! What did you inject into my body?!"
"Where is Leora?! Speak!"
His words slammed into the damp cavern walls, echoing back as if the stones themselves whispered in rage.
The figure before him didn't move—not even a twitch. He simply watched Riven calmly, as if savoring his outburst without absorbing any of it.
The man smiled faintly, then stepped forward slowly, his tall frame bowing just slightly before Riven.
His hand extended slowly, fingers cold as if honed from stone. He grasped Riven's chin with unsettling gentleness, lifting his face toward him.
He leaned in closer… until his breath nearly grazed Riven's cheek, and spoke in a low voice, laced with mischief and madness:
"Hmm… you have a lovely voice."
He paused, studying Riven's burning eyes filled with fury and disgust. Then he added, as his thumb traced slowly along Riven's cheek:
"I wonder… how it will sound when you scream from pain?"
And in a blink—without warning, without hesitation—he drew a small dagger from his belt.
Its blade was thin and gleaming… sharpened, not for killing, but for pleasure.
He drove it into Riven's thigh.
Slowly.
A scream tore through the cavern walls.
The wound bled fast, heat surging from it like woven flame.
And the man remained hunched over him, watching his face…
like an artist admiring a living canvas twisting in agony.
He whispered softly, savoring it:
"Yes… that's it… I knew you had an extraordinary voice."
Then he tilted his head slightly, as if listening to the groan the way one listens to a nocturne.
In the moment Riven's breath teetered between agony and rage—his thigh still impaled by the dagger—a silence fell over the cave unlike any that came before.
As if the entire space… ceased to exist.
The flames of the candles quivered suddenly, then extinguished one by one—without wind, only with a tremble, like a bow of fear.
Then, without warning…
A heavy gloom surged through the cave.
As if darkness itself recoiled to make way for a presence colder than iron… and heavier than molten stone.
An invisible tremor spread through the walls… and through the bones.
The figure standing before Riven—the one who had delighted in cruelty—his hands froze.
The mischief vanished from his features.
His smile melted—like a blood-soaked blade.
He took a step back… head tilted, eyes lowered.
No one commanded him, yet his body submitted, instinctively.
"He's here…"
He whispered it, voice trembling—as if something deep within him recoiled before the words escaped.
And then… the figure emerged from the shadows.
A tall man, broad-shouldered, clad in jet-black armor laced with crimson engravings—like imprisoned fire yearning to burst free.
His face was stern, devoid of emotion.
His black hair was neatly styled, a few strands falling across his brow.
And his eyes…
Beastly eyes. The kind that don't need to roar to instill fear.
He stood at the cave's entrance—he did not speak, he did not shout… but the ground knew he was there.
Finally, he spoke.
His voice was low, but it sliced through the cave like a blade:
"This is no time for games."
Then he slowly lifted his gaze.
And even being seen by him… felt like a punishment.
"They're getting close."
Then he turned and departed in silence.
And when his presence faded, the guard returned to Riven—nervous now, forcing a crooked smile, as if trying to pull himself together after surviving something unspeakable.
He leaned down and gently withdrew the dagger from Riven's thigh.
Blood spattered to the ground, and Riven's screams filled the space, as though pain itself refused to settle.
The guard leaned near his ear and whispered:
"Oh right… I forgot to tell you my name."
He stepped back, a flicker of mischief returning to his face.
"Marco."
Then he turned his back and walked deeper into the shadows.
"I truly enjoyed this… I did."
And he left Riven bleeding… trapped inside a nightmare that hadn't even begun.
At that moment…
In the depths of a ravine along the western coast, the sky was heavy with dark clouds—
as if it were hiding a black secret that refused to be revealed.
Leora and Kyle stood at the edge of a high cliff, overlooking a range of black mountains shrouded in unmoving fog—
as though time itself had frozen within it.
Kyle spoke in a low voice:
"This place… it's unlike anywhere we've passed through."
Leora replied, her eyes sweeping across the rocks:
"The energy here… it's suffocating. Like the land itself can't breathe."
A pause hung between them.
Then she whispered, almost to herself:
"We're close… I can feel it."
Kyle looked at her and murmured:
"The headquarters… it would be somewhere like this. Hidden from sight, but you feel its weight."
Leora stepped forward—then suddenly stopped.
"Did you feel that?"
Kyle nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the rocks ahead…
A moment of silence passed—
Then the ground split open to reveal a narrow path, barely visible, slithering like a black serpent between the hills, winding its way toward the massive mountain structure.
Leora and Kyle stood at the edge of a high cliff, overlooking a chain of black mountains cloaked in dense, unmoving fog—
as though time itself had frozen inside it.
Kyle said quietly:
"This place… doesn't resemble anywhere we've been."
Leora responded, her eyes darting across the rocks:
"The energy here… feels suffocated. As if the land itself can't breathe."
Silence hung between them.
Then she whispered, half-speaking to herself:
"We're close… I can feel it."
Kyle looked at her and muttered:
"The headquarters… it would be somewhere like this. Invisible to the eye, but heavy with its presence."
Leora took one step forward—then suddenly stopped.
"Did you feel that?"
Kyle nodded slowly, eyes locked on the rocks ahead…
A long moment passed—
Then the earth cracked open to reveal a narrow path, barely noticeable, winding like a black serpent between the hills, heading toward the massive mountain formation.
Leora said:
"A hidden gate… complex concealment magic."
Kyle replied in a cautious tone:
"They don't want anyone finding this place…
But he made a mistake letting us get this close."
Leora and Kyle exchanged a swift glance—one that held more than just a promise.
Then they continued silently, heading toward the Azareem headquarters,
where Riven was imprisoned…
and where darkness does not welcome light.
As they walked cautiously through the narrow path, the fog suddenly sank low,
as if something had peeled the veil off the trail.
Then… Kyle stopped abruptly, raising his arm to block Leora from stepping forward.
Suddenly—
A strange breeze passed.
Light and cold… but it wasn't natural.
Leora froze in place, lifting her hand to signal Kyle to halt.
Then—
"Shhh…"
A voice—so delicate it was barely audible, like the sigh of a distant dream.
And in a blink, before their eyes, amidst the dim light filtering through the branches, a tiny spark appeared—
glowing with a soft blue hue.
It began to grow… to spin… then took the form of two small transparent wings, gently fluttering around a sphere of light the size of a palm.
Then—
The full shape was revealed.
A tiny fairy—no taller than a hand—hovered before them with shimmering wings,
her hair cascading like a silver waterfall,
and her eyes glowing with ruby brilliance.
The tiny fairy fluttered before them, her body glowing with a pale blue light—like the glow of a distant star. Her wings whispered through the air like leaves rustling in a night breeze.
Kyle froze in place, eyes wide in astonishment. He waved a hand in front of him as if trying to confirm the reality of what he saw, then blurted out in a confused voice:
"Wait, wait, wait…! Am I dreaming?! What is this?!"
He pointed at her with intense disbelief, his voice rising:
"You're saying you've been… waiting for us?! Who even are you?! What are you?!"
The fairy turned toward him with a calm smile, her eyes shimmering with an ancient light, as if echoing forgotten ages. Then she spoke, her voice gentle, laced with mystery and reassurance:
"I'm not just a fairy…
I am Aeli, a free spirit of the Upper Order,
one of the bringers of peace and guardians of balance in this world."
Her words merged with the air, sending a chill across their skin.
She looked at Kyle—who remained stunned—and floated toward him with majestic lightness, until she hovered right before his face. Then she whispered:
"My presence here is no accident, child of the earth…
It is because the time has come."
Then she turned to Leora…
Her blue eyes sparkled with a strange brilliance, as if radiating truths still hidden:
"You… you will carry the flame through this long night."
Kyle swallowed hard, his heart pounding, and said in astonishment:
"A spirit… of the Upper Order?! What brought you to us?"
Aeli smiled gently, and the air around her began to pulse with a soft, invisible energy—yet it was undeniably felt:
"Winds of darkness are sweeping the land again…
The balance is crumbling…
And we, the spirits, are compelled to intervene."
Her wings fluttered with graceful magic, and she continued in a solemn tone, worthy of a being born of light:
"Once, I walked alongside one of the Crimson Blood.
Today… I choose you."
A chill crept down Leora's spine, and she muttered in disbelief, barely able to grasp it:
"We're… the chosen ones?"
Aeli smiled warmly, then raised her tiny hand toward the sky, her voice filled with unwavering truth:
Then she turned to Leora…
Her blue eyes sparkled with a strange light, as if glowing with truths yet to be revealed:
"You… you are the ones who will carry the flame through this long night."
Kyle swallowed hard, his heart pounding, and said in astonishment:
"A spirit… of the Upper Order?! What brought you to us?"
Aeli smiled softly, and the air around her pulsed with a gentle energy—unseen, yet deeply felt:
"The winds of darkness are sweeping across the land once more…
The balance is tipping…
And we spirits were compelled to intervene."
Her wings fluttered with graceful magic, and she continued in a solemn voice—one that belonged to a creature of light:
"Long ago, I walked alongside one of the Crimson Blood…
And today… I choose you."
A shiver ran down Leora's spine, and she murmured in disbelief, barely able to process it:
"We're… the chosen ones?"
Aeli smiled warmly, then raised her tiny hand toward the sky, speaking with a voice brimming with truth:
"Not because you are the strongest…
But because you are the truest."
Aeli fluttered gently around them, delicate circles of light trailing behind her transparent wings, as if the air itself was singing in her presence.
She spoke with a voice full of serenity, more sung than spoken:
"I feel a great energy within you…
Your souls shimmer like embers beneath ash.
You… are an undiscovered treasure."
She hovered in the air above their heads, then closed her tiny eyes, as if sensing something far off. She whispered:
"Yes… your friend's energy is still alive, glowing… but it's fading, little by little.
The shadows are gathering around him… he doesn't have much time."
Leora gasped and stepped toward Aeli, asking shakily:
"How… how do you know about us? How did you feel Riven's presence?"
Aeli opened her eyes slowly and smiled with calm confidence:
"My sight is sharp, moon-born one…
I can see for miles, and far beyond.
The world does not hide from higher spirits—it whispers to us, if we're willing to listen."
Kyle, shifting impatiently, folded his arms and said with a sarcastic tone:
"So, no time to waste, huh?
Let's go rescue that weakling… with the stupid hair."
Leora gave him a flat look, while Aeli giggled softly, then darted ahead and called out:
"The path will open to a heart that does not hesitate…
Come, friends of Riven—his fate now rests in your hands."
Gentle pulses of light began to flood the space, seeping into the rocks and illuminating a hidden path that revealed itself in the mountain's darkness…
as if the mountain itself had acknowledged their arrival.
The three of them walked through the passage Aeli had carved between the stones, her light cutting through the shadows in majestic silence.
They came upon a narrow gap between two rocky walls—and the moment they passed through it,
an uncharted land was revealed.
A place no map had recorded, no traveler's journal had ever described.
They stood at the edge of a high slope,
beneath which stretched a sandy shore tinted silver, its grains shimmering beneath a misty moonlight—
as if the sea whispered in a tongue only fate could understand.
The waters were calm… too calm.
No birds, no winds, no sign of life…
Only a deep stillness that sent shivers crawling through their souls.
Leora lifted her gaze—
and froze where she stood.
There, atop the rocky hill overlooking the sea…
stood a colossal lair, resembling an abandoned fortress.
But it was not like other castles.
Its walls were black—not a natural black, but as if they had absorbed light itself.
Its windows, like lifeless eyes, gazed at the intruders with an unnatural stare.
Aeli, fluttering ahead, said:
"That is the place… the Black Dome of Iskarel."
Kyle murmured, breath catching at the sheer dread of it:
"Are we… really still on earth?"
Aeli responded, her voice hardened by mystery:
"Not exactly… this land doesn't belong to the world as we know it.
It exists… and it is forgotten."
Leora stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the fortress. She spoke with resolve:
"Whatever awaits us inside…
We will take Riven back."
At that moment, the sands beneath their feet trembled gently—
as if the place itself had felt the presence of intruders.
---
Inside the Black Dome of Iskarel…
At the heart of the castle, where black candles hung from the ceiling like inverted fangs,
and the thick smoke curled through the air like the breath of a sleeping demon,
the commander stood still in the stone hall—
as if carved from ashes and fire.
His dark hair spilled over his shoulders like threads of heavy night,
while faint streaks of red slowly began to glow—
as though blood itself were waking within him.
His eyes held no surprise—
only an eerie stillness and the confidence of someone who knew what others did not.
He turned away from his guards and walked slowly toward the edge of the balcony overlooking the lower courtyard of the fortress.
Then he whispered, his deep voice causing even the castle walls to stir:
"At last… you've come, Leora."
A moment passed.
Then he continued, his voice lower now—almost like a vow:
"The blood that should've been spilled long ago… now stands before the gate."
He smiled—without turning around—as if he sensed her presence before she arrived.
Then he whispered again:
"Things won't go as you hope, niece."
⋯⋯
The winds were still.
Too still.
Even the rustling of trees along the rocky path had vanished.
Leora walked in front, her steps careful, eyes scanning the horizon.
Kyle followed closely behind, glancing left and right, on edge.
Aeli hovered above them, her voice a quiet warning:
The path to Riven would not be easy.
Suddenly—
The ground ahead cracked open, a cloud of gray dust rising into the air…
Then the fog split apart—
revealing two figures standing just meters away.
One of them was tall, with blond hair tied back and one eye covered by a dark patch—
he stood with his hands in his pockets, as if he were just out for a stroll.
Beside him stood a girl shrouded in a dark cloak, her long hair falling mysteriously over her shoulders, her face partially hidden by a mask.
The three halted immediately.
Kyle raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with half-shocked sarcasm:
"Huh? No way… it's you two?"
Aeli fluttered back slightly, her wings shimmering:
"That's a dark energy… deeper than the Zirath. Something more ancient."
Leora's eyes narrowed, locked onto the blond man.
Her heart pounded—not because of his appearance, but because she could feel Riven clinging to him, like a trace etched into his presence.
The man smiled, his voice calm yet tinged with venom:
"You're late."
Leora stepped forward, fists clenched, fury rising in her eyes like a storm.
She roared, her voice echoing through the silence:
"Ostaaaar… you bastard! Where is Riven?! What have you done to him?!"
Ostar smiled—
that smug grin that stoked rage rather than soothed it.
Then he tilted his head slightly and said in a provoking tone:
"Ah, Riven? The messy-haired one with the sharp tongue?"
He murmured, as if reminiscing:
"He used to scream a lot… but I've grown rather fond of the sound."
Kyle trembled as he stared at Ostar:
"Oh gods… this lunatic actually enjoys torturing people!"
Aeli hovered beside Leora, wings fluttering lightly as if sensing the disturbance in her energy.
Leora spoke through clenched teeth, rage slicing through her voice:
"I swear… if you don't return him now, I'll make you regret the day you stepped out of the shadows!"
Ostar laughed, then gestured toward the silent girl standing beside him:
"How about… you speak with my companion first?"
He added slyly:
"She's quite eager to face you, daughter of flame."
The mysterious girl stepped forward, and the air around her began to thicken…
as if even silence was warning of danger.
She slowly raised her hands and slipped off the cloak that had veiled her features.
The fabric slid from her shoulders—
and for a moment, the air itself seemed to pause.
Long pink hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall,
with soft strands gently moving in the breeze.
Her eyes… deep green, like haunted forests,
gleaming with a sharpness that spoke not of observation,
but of hidden knowledge and intent.
She stood firmly, her features wrapped in stoic calm, as if she'd been born without hesitation.
Her tight combat suit, dark-toned and streaked with glowing violet lightning along her arms, gave the clear impression—
she wasn't someone who took orders…
but someone others feared.
She spoke in a quiet voice, yet it carried a sharp undertone of disdain:
"My name is Eva…
And no, I'm not here to welcome you."
She stepped forward, glancing at Leora and Kyle:
"I'm a member of Azareem.
And my presence here means only one thing…"
Then she locked eyes with Leora, her gaze cold:
"You will not take one step closer to Riven."
Leora stepped forward, fury sparking in her eyes, but Kyle reached out—holding her back from charging:
"I'll handle the sharp-tongued freak…"
Then he turned to Leora with a half-sarcastic grin:
"You take the weirdo."
Eva narrowed her eyes with chilling calm, staring at Kyle like she was already imagining how to take him apart first.
Meanwhile, Ostar chuckled softly and said:
"Sharp-tongued? I like that—new nickname unlocked."
At that moment, Aeli began to flutter around Kyle, her aura glowing softly as she whispered:
"I'll support you, son of earth…"
Then she turned to Leora:
"Be careful… this girl's magic is far from ordinary."
Eva prepared herself, violet lightning dancing across her fingertips—
While Kyle gripped his cloak and smiled:
"Wasn't planning to play all my cards this early…
but since we're here,
let's start the party."
Silence roared for a heartbeat—then shattered.
Eva struck first, fast as a flash of lightning, her arms blazing with violet strands that wrapped around her like poisoned flames. She lunged toward Leora with force, the ground trembling beneath her feet.
Leora raised her hand instantly and shouted sharply:
"Selivan!"
Crimson energy burst from her body, forming a shimmering magical shield before her. The shield flared with light just as Eva's blow collided.
The magical impact exploded, waves of power reverberating outward. Leora was driven back with force, but her feet held firm—
and the flame of determination blazed brighter in her eyes.
"Fast…" she muttered, lifting her hand once more as red energy flared and danced around her.
On the other side, Kyle stood firm, eyes locked onto Ostar—who wore a calm, confident smile, as if on a leisurely stroll.
Aeli fluttered beside him, her voice gentle but serious:
"I'll support you… but do not underestimate them.
These two are far more than they seem."
Ostar tilted his head slightly, then raised his hand and uttered a spell—
threads of shadow spiraled outward from him,
as if darkness itself answered his call.
Kyle shouted:
"Gravida!"
The earth rumbled—stone blocks erupted from the ground, which he shaped into shields and barriers around him.
Then he launched toward Ostar, his arm crackling with fierce earthen energy.
At that very moment, Leora burst forward, her hands ignited in pure crimson auras, clashing against Eva's relentless attacks, repelling each strike with power and precision.
Above them, the sky remained still… but the battlefield burned.
Meanwhile… inside the cave of darkness.
The silence was suffocating, broken only by droplets of water falling from the ceiling, and the soft crackle of a single candle dancing with fear.
Riven sat bound to the wall, his head bowed, breath staggered… eyelids trembling, cold sweat sliding down his brow.
He strained his arms upward, fingers clawing at the iron shackles that had carved into his wrists. He growled with muted pain, then pushed his body forward, trying to rub the restraints against a jagged stone behind him.
"Damn it…" he muttered through gritted teeth, eyes burning with fury deeper than pain.
He tried again.
Again.
With every ounce of strength he had left.
His mind blazed with questions: Where is Leora? Is she safe? Will she reach him in time?
A faint creak echoed from the far stone door.
Riven froze, whispering to himself:
"…Don't give up… Leora."
Just then, while he still fought the shackles in quiet desperation, the door opened with a low sound—
followed by hesitant, light footsteps.
Riven slowly lifted his head, exhaustion blanketing him—
and his eyes widened, stunned beyond words.
There, standing in the cave entrance, partially bathed in candlelight—
was a girl. Short hair streaked in orange and black, fierce green eyes despite the fatigue. Her clothes were torn from escape, and her shoulder bore a scrape—
but her gaze shone with purpose.
Riven's face contorted in disbelief.
His voice broke the quiet, barely audible:
"…Impossible… you?"
She stood still for a moment, staring at him, as if trying to confirm he wasn't a ghost. Then she stepped closer, lips trembling:
"Ri… Riven? It's really you?!"
Riven gasped, voice hoarse, heart lurching:
"…Mia?"
The name carried every memory, every question, every shock—wrapped in one breath.
Mia rushed toward him, eyes glistening. Her voice cracked:
"What are you doing here…?"
Despite his pain, Riven managed a crooked smile, shaking his head softly as he stared at her, still unable to fully believe:
"Pretty sure I'm here… not by choice."
A tiny laugh slipped from Mia, fragile like sudden relief after a nightmare.
She knelt beside him, inspecting the metal cuffs biting into his wrists.
"Damn them… how are you still holding on?"
Riven closed his eyes briefly, breath shallow—his chest heavy.
"I can't give up now…
I have to reach Leora."
Mia gasped, eyes widening—tears beginning to gather. Disbelief filled her voice:
"Leora… she's alive?"
Riven opened his eyes slowly, looked at Mia with unwavering resolve, memories and years flashing behind his gaze. He whispered:
"We escaped the island… we were together the whole time."
A pause. Words faltered.
Then, with softer pain:
"I thought you'd… died."
Mia's gaze trembled, something shattered in her expression.
Her voice came ragged:
"And I… I thought you all vanished.
That I was the only one left."
Her hand reached out, trembling, to his wrist—trying to ease the pressure of the restraints, as if to repent for her absence.
Then, with soft nostalgia, her voice barely audible:
"I hate seeing you like this, Riven…
You were always the one who stood when everyone else fell."
Before she could touch the cuffs, she froze—eyes catching a deep wound on his thigh, still quietly bleeding, its edges red with what seemed like poison or clinging darkness.
She gasped, moved closer, brushing dirt away with trembling fingers.
"Who did this to you…?! That wound isn't normal."
Riven stammered, pain flaring anew:
"One of those lunatics… stabbed me while smiling."
Mia stared at it, then closed her eyes and whispered a spell in a gentle, wind-like tongue:
"Vera… Nilora."
From her palm, soft emerald light streamed into the wound—
the skin beneath glowing, as if threads of magic stitched it from the inside.
Just one moment—
and the wound was gone.
As if it had never existed.
Riven blinked, staring at his leg… then at Mia, stunned:
"…It's gone?! You… how?"
Mia smiled shyly, eyes soft with longing:
"I've learned a lot since we parted…
There's no way I'd let you suffer like this."
She offered her hand, helping him to rise. Her eyes gleamed with resolve:
"Let's get out of here…
Leora needs us."
---