What had happened that day?
Barzak went missing. The enemies deceived him and slew him — not a single sentence, but the beginning of a dark chapter in history, wrapped in such deep pain and cruelty that even now its memory drifts like wind through the air, lingering like a burn within the heart.
Barzak, that indomitable hero—whose presence held the brilliance of the sky, whose voice echoed with a hundred tongues, who once planted a new dream upon the war-ravaged soil of Aran—suddenly his disappearance spread across the kingdom.
No one knew where he had gone, no one understood how he silently vanished beyond the dusk.
Yet behind his disappearance lay a complex, precise web of deception. The enemies, who wished to diminish Barzak's magic, power, and influence, crafted a subtle, deadly illusion—an incomprehensible trap that ultimately lured Barzak to his doom.
That day was the herald of dawn, when the sky of Aran was drenched in a faint red glow.
Barzak was returning after completing an important task—one essential for guiding the Samardun people toward freedom and clarity. By his side were his loyal soldiers and mages, but none of them sensed the creeping shadow of danger.
******
A deep, pitch-black night.
In the valley surrounded by mountains, the cold pierced down to the bone. The sky hung like a dark quilt, stars absent entirely, as if they themselves had turned away from the coming horror.
Barzak's camp lay asleep, weary soldiers breathing heavily—grasping a sliver of rest after a full day of preparation for war. The fire had burned down, leaving only faint blue shadows trembling in the wind.
Suddenly… without a sound, a new note slid through the current of air. It was ghastly—a silent poison, slipping into every breath unnoticed.
A mist descended from above, but it was no ordinary smoke—this was an enchanted, lethal fog. It had no colour, no scent, yet it drained the sharpness of blades, hollowed out the will, and wove a venom of despair within the heart.
Barzak awoke, sitting upright, immediately sensing that the glow of his sword had died. The weapon was mute, lifeless—as if its very soul had been stolen.
Within seconds, the silence of the camp collapsed.
Shadow-born warriors rushed down the mountainside, their bodies cloaked in unseen armour—no human eye could perceive them, only the faint tremor in the air revealed their presence.
More than three hundred mages.
Two hundred ancient beasts.
And countless other horrors without names.
Barzak stood, not with surprise in his eyes, but a fierce, unshaken fury. He roared:
"I am your brother! You will raise your swords against me?"
But his voice was swallowed by the poisoned mist—there was no echo, no reply.
His soldiers fell one by one, collapsing before any could even scream, the silence choking their throats.
Barzak fought.
Alone.
Against his despair, against traitors, against the shadow of an unseen enemy. His hair clung to his forehead soaked in sweat, his body trembled, yet his eyes burned like fire.
And then?
All of it vanished into the unknown.
The enemies wanted to destroy Barzak—not only his body, but his essence, his history, his dreams, everything he stood for.
That deep night of Barzak's disappearance remains a wound that still bleeds in their hearts. In the cold wind of that night, one can hear his name, his sorrow, and all the unfulfilled hopes.
Barzak went missing.
The enemies deceived him and slew him—this was a dark chapter of history, not the part of a tale, but a living grief.
The soldiers of the Balan Empire marched into Kaylira. Queen Bahar, whose very name carried the echo of peace, was taken captive.
The fall of Kaylira marked the end of a burning chapter.
Bahar understood her mistake, but by then it was far too late.
Being the only sister of the twelve princes, she was placed under strict watch within a luxurious palace.