"She was beautiful—more radiant than Aletheira itself. Draped in a gleaming, silken white dress, her veil clung tightly around her face and neck before cascading wide over her body like flowing light. She seemed exalted, as though she had conquered not only the world, but the sky—the night itself. She moved among the clouds with a grace both delicate and commanding, each sway like a divine dance. Was she a goddess? Then came the bolt she cast—zigzagging through the heavens, as if reaching down, searching for something upon the earth." Anthrion thought, his pupils widening as though they could drink in the whole vision before him.
/// Hahahaha… giggles scattered into the air as the world shifted—six years earlier.
A young Anthrion—no more than eight—walked beside his father, a blindfold tied across his eyes. Both carried baskets of goods as they departed from a neighboring village.
Behind them lay one of the three villages that together are callled Triakamai, all nestled around the slopes of Mount Panakai. The village glowed with warmth: laughter hummed through the air, market stalls clattered with trade, and children ran barefoot along the paths. Doves fluttered from rooftop to rooftop. Even the soul-less seemed to savor breathing in the village's warmth.
At the heart of it all, a giant white crystal—what the people called a Light Stone—crowned the peak of Mount Panakai. Its radiance, neither too near to scorch nor too distant to fade, spread evenly across the land, bathing all of Triakamai in gentle light.
Anthrion looked up at the Light Stone, Aletheira—a colossal white crystal glowing as though it belonged to no world at all. It rose upon a great pedestal, adorned with interlacing veins of gold and encircled by pillars of white marble. From it poured pure radiance, yet its glow stained the world around in shades of golden yellow.
He looked at it then to his father, his brow slightly furrowed.
/// SNIFFFF… HAAAH… his nose caught the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread.
He looked around at the life surrounding him. Everything felt prosperous. Then he turned to his father.
"Father, why don't we live here, where it's warm?"
His father didn't stop walking but answered calmly, "Because Triakamai, though warm, isn't safe."
Anthrion frowned. "But they're neutral, aren't they? The war hasn't touched them. And the Oracle being their patron protects them, right?"
His father's gaze shifted toward the rooftops and the stone pillars lining the village road. He lowered his voice slightly.
"Yes, the Oracle of Deliapha shields them. That's true. But Athonis has eyes here. We don't want them to see you."
Anthrion looked confused. "Eyes...? What does that mean?"
Suddenly, Anthrion slowed down and cheered as soon as his gaze shifted to a familiar figure ahead: the soul-less boy, Antagoras, wearing a blindfold as well, walking beside his mother, who gripped his forearm tightly as they too left the village.
Antagoras stared blankly at the ground.
Anthrion's expression brightened for a moment. "It's Antagoras!"
He started to walk toward him but stopped.
Antagoras' mother's eyes looked sunken, heavy with sorrow and distance. Her grip on Antagoras' arm was so tight it left bruises, though she seemed not to notice.
"...Why does his mother look so sad? Why's she holding him like that?"
His father responded quietly, "Because since that day, he escapes here often. He doesn't like the cold."
Anthrion tilted his head. "Then why doesn't she tell him? She should warn him. If the Athonisians find him, and he disappears into their city, we can't get him back, right?"
His father's voice lowered again. "She would have told him, son. But he's soul-less. He's… not like you."
Anthrion looked down. Something in his face shifted—confusion, pity, a child's quiet rebellion against unfairness.
"Why is Antagoras always treated like that? It's not his fault he was born this way," he thought. "If he had a soul, I bet he'd outshine all the boys in our village."
He looked up at the hills ahead, where cold mist draped the path back to their secluded home. Then he turned to glance back at the warm village—the soft light, the chatter, the warmth lingering in the air.
"...I don't blame him. It is warm here. I wonder what Mother does when we leave her alone."
Later, back in their own village, the wind had picked up. The light had faded. The warmth was gone, darkness and coldness dominating once more.
Anthrion saw Antagoras again—he and his mother had arrived earlier. He was standing near their house at the edge of the pine forest, facing the distant hills—quiet and unmoving, as if waiting for something, or about to leave.
"Antagoras," Anthrion said, voice firmer now, as though telling him off, "stop escaping. You're making your mother worry. She can't lose you too."
Antagoras didn't respond. He only looked at Anthrion, his face blank, eyes hollow.
Anthrion's tone softened. "If you stop, maybe she'll stop being cruel to you."
Not far behind, his father stood watching—his expression somewhere between wonder and unease.
The wind whistled between the trees taking us back to the present.
Anthrion's eyes were wide open, showing both terror and admiration; they reflected a strange brilliance.
/// DAWPHHHHHHHHH...
A massive thunderbolt struck the house exactly where he and his father had been standing.
Silence followed the strike. The entire world seemed to freeze, as if even reality itself was shocked in disbelief. The room where they had stood no longer existed.
/// PHWEEEEEP...
Shreds of a thick, smoke-like matter formed a few feet away from the house. Out of those shreds, Evander hurled himself, clutching Anthrion tightly in a desperate attempt to survive.
Nausea. Fever. Anthrion felt disoriented after emerging from the shreds. He collapsed to his knees and hands, gasping for air. Raising his head toward the village, still struggling to regain consciousness, he tried to comprehend what had just happened. His ears rang. His vision blurred.
/// KRA-KA-DOOOOOOOM...
Sky Terror struck the children in the village square, along with the surrounding houses, with massive thunderbolts.
Terrible screams erupted. Before Anthrion could even grasp the scene, carnage unfolded before his eyes.
/// SKREEEEEEHhhhhhh...
Everyone fell prey to monstrous, blood-drawn souls that appeared from nowhere—the Keres.
/// SLASH...
A child who had survived the thunderbolt ran toward his house, but a slash tore through his arm and neck.
/// SLASH...
Antagoras' mother lost both arms trying to push away the demonic souls.
Wails and pleading cries echoed as Sky Terror continued its relentless assault, fire engulfing everything around them.
Regaining awareness and seeing the devastation, Anthrion—desperate—rushed toward their burning house, intent on saving his soul-less mother.
"Moments ago everything was peaceful. Not warm, not bright. But peaceful. Yet now, these moments feel frozen in time."
That was what Anthrion's eyes spoke as he saw the next thunderbolt zigzagging in the air, as if searching for its target.
/// KRA-KA-THOOOOOOOM...
Wind blew the dust toward him. His house was struck, the thunderbolt shattered the ceiling. Anthrion stood frozen, then staggered to his feet. His legs were weak, his arms numb, his body trembling. Powerlessly, he walked toward the wreckage.
"No... this can't be! Mother, I'm coming!"
Though his father was heartbroken over his wife as well, he forced himself to remain rational, grabbing Anthrion as the boy screamed.
"Mom! No—she's alive! The soul-less don't die. I'll save her. I'll get her soul back!"
His father's face was shadowed, unreadable. Anthrion struggled against him—until a thunderbolt struck someone to their right.
A splinter shot out, grazing Anthrion's leg. Gritting his teeth in pain, he turned just in time to watch that person turn to ash. And in a blink, the Keres lunged at him from behind.
Black wraiths with a white silky veil covering their heads and fell to their wide mouths, with clawed limbs trailing smoke. They shrieked as they launched forward, cutting across the clearing with blinding speed towards Anthrion.
Anthrion turned, his face pale yet his grey eyes flared with a strange green shimmer.
Time froze—just long enough for him to glimpse the horror bearing down on him.
/// SKREEEEEEHHHHH