Chapter 3: Awakening
Year 3118 – Antiarena City
In the dead of night, on the outskirts of Antiarena City, where silence reigned upper hand, a boy stepped from the shadows of a deserted alley into the pale moonlight. His left hand braced against the crumbling wall, while his right clutched a shimmering silver sword. His tattered grey robe was marked with cuts, revealing bloodied injuries beneath. A black sword sheath was strapped to his back.
With a quick motion, the boy leapt forward and rolled, landing gracefully. His onyx-black eyes remained calm, and his dishevelled black hair clung to his face. From where he was standing before, a metallic 8 of Spades card was embedded into the gravel, catching the moonlight. The boy muttered Bismillah inwardly.
Then came the sound of footsteps. A man appeared, wearing a black and white tuxedo with a dark cape billowing behind him like a storm cloud. A wing-shaped mask covered his upper face, and he adjusted his magician's top hat with practised flair. His brown eyes studied the boy.
"Aren't you a tricky target?" he mused.
The boy tried to steady his breath, but before he could react, several cards were flung toward him with pinpoint precision. An Ace of Hearts, 7 of Spades, 5 of Hearts, and 3 of Clubs sliced through the air, aiming for his arms, legs, and head.
With a sharp metallic clang, the boy parried them with his sword, sparks erupting from each deflection.
The magician didn't pause. From beneath his sleeve, he drew a wand and muttered a spell.
"Ascasore."
A bolt of blue lightning erupted from the wand, illuminating the alley as it surged toward the boy. He raised his silver sword just in time, the blade glowing from the impact. Though he held his ground, the force pushed him back, and the blade trembled under the pressure.
A smile curled on the magician's lips. Then, without warning, a Queen of Diamonds card sliced the boy's cheek before embedding itself into the wall behind him.
Suddenly, six copies of the magician appeared, surrounding the boy like spectres. The lightning ceased as the magician raised his wand again.
"Illemunore."
The boy's body rose from the ground, suspended like a marionette. His limbs moved against his will, controlled by the magician's magic. Each illusionary copy was playing with a group of cards, ready to strike at any moment. Yet the boy's expression remained calm—unnervingly calm for the magician.
The magician hesitated, thinking about any loopholes in his strategy.
Then he noticed something—something that made his heart skip. The boy's once onyx-black eyes now glowed violet, with a single white dot shining at the centre.
Unease bloomed into panic.
The magician leapt into the air, commanding his copies to launch their cards. But before the attack could land, the boy suddenly broke free of the spell. The wand twisted in the magician's hand and slipped—but it was caught mid-air by invisible threads and returned to him.
From beneath the boy's feet, shadowy spikes burst upward, impaling each of the six copies. They vanished like smoke in the wind.
Now, the magician hovered above, looking down at the beaten boy—still standing, still calm. Only now did he notice: shadows were gathering around the boy's silver blade.
The magician raised his left hand. A blue light shimmered from his white gloved palm, forming a pentagonal barrier etched with six glowing runes in front of him.
The shadows around the blade suddenly burst into pure white light. In a flash, the boy swung his sword diagonally. A crescent-shaped beam of white light shot forward—so fast it seemed to cut through the night itself.
It collided with the magician's barrier.
The explosion of light lit the entire street like a second dawn. When the darkness returned, the magician's left arm hung limp—mangled, blood dripping freely. His face twisted in pain.
And the boy was gone.
The magician glanced around, hesitating—thinking. Then, without warning, a silver blade pierced his chest from behind.
The boy was behind him.
Calm. Silent. Sword in hand. Impaling him.
The magician gasped.
"Y-You really ... are a nuisance ... I-I'm sorry ... I greatly underestimated you ... Ravi Sahara!"
Ravi responded coldly,
"Do you think those who know are equal to those who don't?"
The magician's body flickered, turning illusory, and vanished into thin air. Silence returned again.
Moments later, a group clad in black armor over red robes appeared, drawn by the chaos. On each of their right sleeves was an emblem—a flying crimson owl.
They looked around the scorched battlefield for any clues but couldn't. The boy named Ravi was gone as well. Swallowed by the shadows once more.