The morning sun had barely risen over the jagged peaks of the mountains, casting long shadows across the village, when the first ripple of unease passed through Rivan's heart. He had been walking down the familiar path to the small stream near the edge of the cliffs when he felt it — a tremor in the air, subtle but chilling, like a distant whisper that made the hairs on his neck stand.
"Rivan! Wait!" his sister called from their small stone house, her voice trembling. But he barely registered it, his senses straining, scanning the horizon. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
And then, the sky tore open.
A jagged, swirling portal ripped across the clouds, light and darkness blending into a chaotic whirlpool. From it poured shadows — twisted, unnatural forms, entities with shapes that defied imagination. They moved with purpose, their eyes glowing faintly, scanning the village below.
"By the gods…" Rivan whispered, frozen in place.
The village erupted into chaos. Screams echoed through the narrow streets as people ran, clutching their loved ones. Somewhere at the edge of the trees, flashes of energy indicated that the secret society had arrived.
Rivan watched, heart hammering, as figures cloaked in dark robes and glowing sigils engaged the entities. Blades of energy clashed with jagged shadows, sparks of mystical light illuminating the valley in brief, blinding bursts. Ancient chants vibrated through the air, protective circles flaring around defenseless villagers.
One warrior, a tall woman with silver hair, raised her hands, chanting rapidly. A glowing shield expanded, pushing back a massive shadow claw that had lunged toward a group of children.
"Move! Protect the villagers!" she shouted to her comrades. "Focus your energy! Don't let them through!"
But then Rivan saw it — a monstrous entity tearing through the outskirts of the village, moving with terrifying speed toward his home. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze fell on the familiar stone roof and the small garden where he had spent countless hours playing as a child.
"No… no, not them!" he screamed, running, but his legs felt like lead. He could only watch as the entity's dark tendrils smashed through the door.
Inside, his father stirred in the coma, oblivious to the world. There was no way to save him, and Rivan's chest tightened as the entity struck — and he saw the life drain from his father's face.
"Father!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "Please… wake up!"
But the shadows were relentless. By the time the secret society managed to push back the other entities, the damage was done. The house lay in ruins, the village devastated, and Rivan sank to his knees among the rubble.
Tears streamed down his face. Anger, sorrow, and a deep, gnawing regret clawed at him. Why didn't I do something? I should have protected him… I could have tried harder…
"Rivan! Are you okay?" his sister's voice called, shaky but desperate. He didn't respond, only stared at the charred remains of what had been his home, at the lifeless body of his father.
The secret society warriors approached cautiously, their energy shields flickering as they assessed the aftermath.
"Child… you survived," one whispered, almost to himself, as if noting the faint pulse of energy around Rivan. But no help, no comfort came. The boy was alone, and he knew it.
That night, as the winds howled through the mountains and the bodies of the villagers were tended to by the society, Rivan sat on the edge of a cliff, staring at the broken horizon. Shadows still moved in the forests beyond, whispering secrets he didn't yet understand.
"I… I have to get stronger," he whispered into the wind. "I won't let this happen again. I won't be helpless anymore."
The first seeds of rage, regret, and hidden potential had been sown, and though he did not yet know it, Rivan's path toward power, darkness, and something far greater than himself had begun.