The rain pounded relentlessly on the thatched roofs of the small village of Thalos, nestled in the green valleys of the Kingdom of Arkan. Inside a rustic hut, the air was heavy with the scent of medicinal herbs and fear. On the wooden bed, young Lyra struggled against contractions, her face pale and sweaty. Beside her, the warrior Rorik, Lyra's father, held her hand tightly, his eyes fixed on something beyond the wall.
"Hold on, my love," Rorik murmured, his voice hoarse with tension. "Our children need you."
Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, a moan catching in her throat. It had been days since the sentries had spotted the first flames on the distant border. The news had come in waves, increasingly horrific: villages burned, men slaughtered, mages from Nox casting earth-shattering spells. Now, the horror had reached Thalos.
A shrill scream rent the air, not of pain, but of... something different. Rorik turned abruptly. Lyra, exhausted, looked at him with a weak but radiant smile.
"It was... it was him, Rorik. Our son..."
Rorik lowered his head, kissing her forehead, as he heard Kael's first, fragile, powerful cry. It was a sound that promised resilience, an echo of the future they would never know.
---
Years passed, marked by the constant sound of war drums and the smell of smoke that hung over the valleys. Kael grew quickly, driven by the need to protect his mother and younger brothers. From an early age, he demonstrated a natural talent for combat, learning the arts of sword and spear from his father. Rorik, an honorable and strong man, taught him not only how to fight, but also the value of loyalty and justice.
"Kael," Rorik said one day, sitting beside the ten-year-old boy, who was eagerly polishing his small training sword. "Always remember: strength without heart is only violence. Our war is not against people, but against the tyranny and cruelty that the Shadow Master brings."
Kael looked at his father, his eyes serious. "I understand, Father. I will protect our family."
Rorik smiled, touching his son's shoulder. "And that is what matters, my boy. But also remember compassion. Even in times of war, there are innocents."
Those words would be etched in Kael's memory, a broken beacon years later.
---
It was in the spring of his fourteenth birthday that the shadow finally fell upon Thalos. It was not just Nox soldiers who invaded the village, but something far worse: shadow mages, their black robes flaming with sinister runes, accompanied by misshapen beasts and warriors hardened by darkness.
Kael, now a young warrior in training, watched everything crumble. He saw his father, Rorik, fall under an avalanche of arrows while defending the village barricade. He saw his mother, Lyra, dragged away by a Nox mage, her eyes filled with terror. He saw his younger sisters, Esme and Lila, hiding in a barn, crying as the flames devoured their home.
Kael's world collapsed. Everything good, everything safe, was consumed by fire and darkness. In his chest, a burning hatred was born, stronger than any physical wound. It was a hatred directed not only at the Nox soldiers, but at the evil force guiding them, the Shadow Master who used the Shadow Talisman to corrupt and destroy.
As he fled, racing through the dense, damp woods surrounding Thalos, his mother's scream echoed in his mind, along with his father's final instruction: *Protect them.* But who was left to protect? He himself was alone, a refugee, an orphan of war.
It was then that he heard a voice, not from his lips, but from within his own soul. It was Rorik's voice, clear and firm, though his physical form was dead.
*Rise, Kael. Your journey begins now. The Talisman must be destroyed.*
Kael stopped, panting, looking back, where the burning village disappeared into the mist of the forest. Hatred still burned in his chest, but now it was channeled. It wasn't just blind revenge. It was a mission. A promise.
"I will find him, Father," Kael murmured to the silent forest, brandishing his small sword, now his only remaining possession. "I will destroy the Talisman. And I will live up to your legacy."
With one last look at the hell that had once been his home, Kael turned and plunged into the Whispering Woods, the first step on a journey that would lead him through unimaginable dangers, unlikely alliances, and decisions that would define not only the fate of nations, but also that of his own soul.
War had created Kael. Now, it was time for him to end the war.