Ten years have passed since the great war known as the Heaven Wars. Years that felt like a shroud of fog, sometimes dulling memories, sometimes clarifying wounds. Now, in a new morning, the world finally learns to celebrate peace. However, the peace they savor is not absolute freedom, but a long pause from terror, a sigh of relief after being submerged too long in horror.
In the heart of Atlantis, amidst towers that pierce the blue horizon, laughter and cheers color the celebration of independence from the nightmares of the gamma nation. The sky above them is crossed by magnificent dragon parades, their wings casting long shadows between the towers of magic. From afar, the thundering steps of mighty mammoth troops echo like the drums of ancient battles. Yet behind the roar of victory, a sliver of silence remains, a piece of sorrow that never truly fades.
For those who have lost everything, peaceful days like this are merely reminders that old wounds have not fully healed. Every cheer becomes an echo of buried screams from the past. Some find peace, while others choose silence.
In the old library of the Atlantis School of Magic, Rinoa sat leaning against an aging wooden chair. "You know, this place always has a way of swallowing you whole, doesn't it?" she murmured to herself, her red hair falling messily, partially covering her face.
"Is it the dust, or the ghosts of the past that linger here?" she added, her voice barely rising above a whisper. Her name alone carried the weight of hope and historical burden. Before her lay an old, tattered book, its pages trembling gently in the breeze that flowed through the window. "What secrets do you hold?" she thought, glancing at the cover as if it might answer.
"Rinoa!" a voice echoed from the entrance, pulling her from her thoughts. "Are you still engrossed in that old history?" It was Professor Elbert, his tone light yet tinged with something serious. "You know, they say knowledge can be a double-edged sword."
"What do you mean by that?" Rinoa asked, her eyes narrowing, intrigued. "Is this knowledge worth the price?"
"Ah, the gamma nation..." he sighed, shaking his head. "Their downfall was a blend of betrayal and ambition. Are you prepared for the truth?"
"I need to know, Professor. Every cheer doesn't drown out the buried screams," she replied gripping the edge of the book tightly. "These words are more than mere ink; they're a warning."
"Just remember, not all truths are meant to be uncovered," he cautioned, stepping closer as if to shield her from something unseen. "History isn't just a tale. It's a riddle wrapped in shadows."
Rinoa remained silent, feeling the weight of his words. "You can read the pages, but can you read between the lines?" she challenged him, her fingers tracing the names in the book, a mix of anger and fear building inside her. "What happened here cannot simply be forgotten."
"You respect history, but do you trust it?" he asked, a hint of amusement flickering at the corners of his mouth. "Or is it just a collection of lies?"
Rinoa paused, caught off guard. "Does it matter?" she retorted. "When the truth is buried, who do you turn to? What do you trust?"
"Perhaps you trust your intuition?" he replied thoughtfully, his gaze penetrating. "But beware, Rinoa. Every pursuit has its price, and every revelation—an uncovering of old wounds."
"We all carry scars, Professor," she said, her tone softening momentarily. "But if we don't confront the past, we're bound to repeat it, aren't we?"
The tension in the room thickened as the professor studied her with a complexity of emotions—admiration, concern, and perhaps a touch of fear. "You may find more than you bargained for. Just remember, every story has two sides."
"And which side do you choose to believe?" she shot back, her resolve steeling. "What's hidden isn't just history; it's a warning. If the shadows could speak, would they tell us the truth or keep their secrets?"
The conversation lingered heavily, the air crackling with undisclosed truths, as her mind raced through the mysteries surrounding the library and the fading remnants of a lost civilization.
The man, Professor Elbert, watched her from behind a shelf. "Rinoa," he called softly, almost conspiratorially.
"Did you ever wonder what really happened to Atlantis? Not just the stories they want you to believe?" He was over half a century old; his hair was white, and his sharp eyes glinted with secrets.
"This book," he continued, casually hefting the thick volume, "is not just a collection of history—it's filled with the whispers of the past." He placed the book before her with a deliberate slowness, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"History is always written by the victors, Rinoa. You know that, don't you? But what if their version is only half the truth?" Rinoa raised an eyebrow, holding back her doubts.
"This book... Professor, isn't it forbidden to read at school? Isn't that risky?" "Risky?" Elbert chuckled, leaning in as if the walls might hear him.
"Many great discoveries thrive on risk. And aren't you curious about what lies beneath the surface of their chosen history?" Rinoa hesitated, her fingers itching to touch the glossy cover.
"But what if it leads me somewhere I can't come back from?" "Every path to knowledge comes with shadows, Rinoa. Just like Atlantis, which is more than mere ruins; it's a labyrinth of forgotten truths. Sometimes the dark side of history holds the light we seek." She lowered her voice, almost in a challenge.
"So you're saying I should ignore the rules? What if they really are there for a reason?" Elbert smiled faintly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Mandatory rules are often chains disguised as guidance. You'll understand when you delve deeper—if you dare." Rinoa felt the weight of his words, a thrilling blend of dread and excitement.
"I want to know what's hidden," she confessed. "But what if the answers change everything?" "Then prepare yourself," he replied, his tone serious now. "Because once you step into the dark, there's no turning back. What do you seek, Rinoa?" "I just want to uncover what happened. The real story of Atlantis." "Then you must embrace the shadows," he urged.
"Are you ready for that? You know, most are not. But you—" he trailed off, assessing her. "You seem different." Rinoa felt a chill run down her spine.
"Different how? What do you know?" He leaned back, a knowing smile on his lips. "Just be cautious. In your pursuit, you might find more than you bargained for.
Atlantis isn't just history; it's alive in ways you can't yet comprehend." With that, the conversation hung heavy between them, the air thick with implications. Rinoa glanced at the book, the thrill of a mystery unfolding before her. Would she have the courage to confront what lay within?
However, the history of Atlantis has never been free from blood. "Did you know," Elbert began, his voice barely above a whisper, "the Ark Fortress was our final stand? They say it still holds the screams of those who perished." A chill ran through Rinoa as she recalled the stories whispered among the elders.
"They always said the golem stones, those ancient relics, are more than mere rock." She leaned in closer. "What do you mean?" Elbert glanced around cautiously. "They amplify energy, Rinoa. But only the stones from Esteran Hill can match that force. And if you get it wrong..." He let the words linger, an ominous shadow crossing his face. "Others would shatter, turn to dust, just like the hopes of those who tried."
"You ever wonder why they never tell the whole truth?" Rinoa asked, her brow furrowing as she recalled the elders' half-told stories. "It's as if they're afraid of what it might awaken." Elbert nodded grimly. "History isn't just written in books; it's etched in pain. When Lord Esgal Mercury took those knights to Esteran Hill, it was more than just a mission. It was a death sentence for many." He glanced at Rinoa with a heavy gaze. "They say the ground still holds their whispers, begging for rest."
"What if you and I," Rinoa suggested, a spark igniting in her eyes, "could uncover the truth? Maybe the golem stones are hiding more than just energy." Elbert smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You dive too deep, Rinoa. The past is like a two-edged sword—it will cut you if you let it." A nervous laugh escaped her. "Well, I've always had a taste for danger." Elbert chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. "This isn't a game, Rinoa. Remember, ninety bodies came back unrecognizable. Just a field of death, families left to mourn without names."
"You know, Rinoa," Elbert said softly, "every stone in Atlantis was bought with tears and blood that will never be fully repaid. Even the steel statues you pass every morning are reminders that there is no glory without futile sacrifice." Silence enveloped them as the weight of his words sunk in, until Rinoa finally whispered, "What remains for those who survive?"
Elbert took a deep breath. "Only regret and a handful of hope, if they are lucky. The rest… becomes stories that are never complete." He paused, considering Rinoa's expression. "Tell me, Rinoa, what do you hope to find in this place?"
"I..." Rinoa hesitated, glancing at the towering structure. "I want to understand the whispers of the past. What happened here?"
"Many have asked that question," Elbert replied, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "But few are ready for the answer. Some say Atlantis holds more than just knowledge; it guards secrets that could shatter reality itself." His eyes glinted with a mix of fear and intrigue.
"Look at it, Rinoa," Elbert continued, pointing towards the distant window. "Imagine the lives that walked these very halls, the magic they wielded. But be careful: curiosity has a price. What do you think those plasma cannons were really designed for?"
Rinoa shivered despite herself. "A balance...or a weapon?" Her voice barely a whisper.
"What if I told you," Elbert leaned closer, "that the magic used to power this place was infused with the very sorrow of those who fell defending it?" He smirked, trying to lighten the weight of the conversation. "And here we are, searching for truths that might have been better left buried." He chuckled softly, but there was no real joy in it.
"Do you think you'll uncover those truths?" Elbert asked, mirroring her thoughts. "It's not just about uncovering history; it's about what comes next."
"I have to," Rinoa replied defiantly, clenching her fists. "What else is there? Just regrets?"
The tension crackled in the air around them. Elbert studied her intently. "You're more determined than most. But remember this: sometimes the pursuit of knowledge can lead to darker paths. Are you ready for that?"
Rinoa exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of his words. "I don't know...but I have to try. The world could change if we understand what happened here."
Elbert nodded, a flicker of admiration passing over his features. "Then we must tread carefully. Speak less of your intentions and more of your discoveries. The less they know, the safer we are." He offered a slight smile, warmth creeping into his tone. "After all, finding history doesn't ensure safety, does it?"
Elbert opened page after page of the book he had just given to Rinoa. "Do you know, Rinoa, what is most often erased from history?" he asked, glancing around as if the very walls might have ears. "Not victories, nor defeats. But the secrets hidden between the two: dark magic."
"What do you mean by secrets?" Rinoa replied, her voice barely above a whisper, feeling a stir of unease. "What could possibly be so important that it was hidden?"
"Those words felt like a mantra, opening a door to the darkness that had been lurking in her mind. "It's the magic that lies beneath the surface, Rinoa. The kind that the ancients of Atlantis twisted to their advantage. Dark magic is not just black magic. It is the shadow of the human soul itself," Elbert insisted, his tone grave.
"But why would anyone choose to pursue something so dangerous?" she asked, unable to mask the tremor in her voice.
"Because it offers what mere mortal desires cannot. In the forbidden journals of Atlantis, dark magic is described as a power," he said, letting the weight of his words hang in the air, "that only emerges from the deepest desires and unspoken suffering."
Rinoa frowned, "And those who delve into it… what happens to them?"
"Many have tried to master it, but even more have vanished in the process," he replied. "Like echoes swallowed by the ocean."
"So, there's a chance I might never return?" Rinoa asked, her curiosity edged with fear.
"And those who return, return as what?" she reiterated, almost in a whisper.
"As shadows of themselves. Retraction of the Soul—that is the price to be paid," he explained, his eyes narrowing as if delving into a hidden memory. "The soul erodes, empathy disappears, and what remains is only a body that remembers the past without meaning."
Rinoa fell silent, her heart racing. "What if the truth is more than I can bear?" she finally said, her voice trembling.
In response, Elbert's expression softened slightly. "What we uncover may be bitter, Rinoa, but you have to ask yourself—what good is knowledge without the courage to pursue it?"
"Is the truth worth the risk of losing oneself?" she replied, wrestling with her doubt, even as an irresistible curiosity pulled at her.
Elbert continued, "Those from Atlantis believed their sunken city held the answers, buried beneath layers of time and deception. It's crucial, Rinoa. What you've seen… it's just the surface."
"But I don't know if I can—"
"You have to believe in your journey," he interrupted gently. "What lies beneath might be what you seek. And remember, those who break the surface might find a hidden treasure."
"And what if I find only darkness?" Rinoa wondered aloud.
"Then you must find a way to bring light to it. You have that power, even if you don't see it yet," Elbert encouraged. "But you must first be willing to dive deep."
Rinoa nodded, her determination briefly reawakening. "Just tell me, Elbert—what will I do if the secrets of Atlantis find me first?"
"Face them," he responded, his gaze unwavering. "Face them with courage, much like those who once walked among the ruins."
Elbert gazed at his student, his old eyes highlighting the remnants of a belief that was nearly extinguished. "I want you to write your thesis about the gamma nation, but not just from what is written in history books. I want you to seek what is hidden, even if it means challenging your own limits."
Rinoa shook her head, a bit anxious. "What if I fail, Professor? What if I lose… everything?"
Elbert leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Failure is part of the journey. But tell me, what do you fear losing most?"
Rinoa bit her lip, glancing at the floor. "Maybe... my sense of self? What if I uncover things better left buried?"
"Curiosity often uncovers shadows of our past," Elbert said, his tone serious. "Did you know many who searched for the truth in Atlantis never returned?"
Rinoa's heartbeat quickened. "What do you mean? Were they simply lost, or was it something more sinister?"
Elbert's eyes darkened for a moment. "Some say they were taken by the very truths they sought. Darkness can be... seductive." He paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "But there's also light to be found in the shadows."
She looked out the window, sensing a chill down her spine. "If I embark on this journey, who will be with me?" she asked, her voice soft yet firm.
"You are not alone," he replied gently. "Tonight, we will summon strength from the past. I, and some of your friends, will challenge fate alongside you. It won't be easy. Secrets of Atlantis often come with a price." The tension in his voice was palpable.
Rinoa felt the gravity of those words. "Secrets… You mean the ones about the ancient council? What do they have to do with me?"
Elbert studied her for a moment. "You could be their beacon, Rinoa. Or perhaps… their curse. The line is thin." He glanced away, lost in thought.
She frowned, trying to process everything. "But what if I come across something I can't handle? Something that changes everything?"
Elbert leaned closer, his voice low. "The truth is often hidden in the most dangerous places. Do you think you can face it if it challenges everything you've known about yourself? About Atlantis?"
Rinoa searched his gaze, looking for reassurance, but found only resolve. "Professor Elbert," she murmured, "sometimes... I wonder if the truth can really save the world—or just expose it to greater dangers?"
"Only those who dare to seek out the truth will ever truly know, Rinoa," he replied, his tone grave as he slowly closed the book. "And remember, every journey has an origin, just as every truth has its keeper."
"Can you believe how beautiful it is tonight, Elbert?" Rinoa said, her voice barely above a whisper as they stood in the corridor. "It's as if the towers are alive with secrets."
Elbert turned to her, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Every stone here has a story, Rinoa. But the real story lies beneath the surface—where the lies fester."
"What do you mean?" she asked, her intrigue palpable. "What happened in Atlantis that no one talks about?"
"You must tread carefully," he replied, glancing around as if the shadows themselves were listening. "Not all knowledge is meant to be uncovered. Some truths are better left buried."
Rinoa felt a chill run down her spine. "But I have to know the truth. It's my only way to reshape our history."
"History is a fickle thing," he said, leaning closer. "It can twist and turn, especially in the hands of those desperate to change it. You're not alone in this, but be prepared for what you may find."
Determined, she straightened her shoulders. "I have to uncover it. I refuse to stand by while false narratives reign supreme."
"Then you must be ready for the shadows that accompany your search," Elbert warned. "They can be more formidable than you think."
"Like the ones lurking in the library?" she chuckled nervously. "I can handle a few ghosts."
His smile remained calm, yet there was an edge to it. "Ghosts, Rinoa, are often the whisperers of forgotten truths. But sometimes, the truth is scarier than the ghost."
With a pulse of adrenaline, she nodded. "I'm not afraid. I want to be a part of the story that's waiting to be told."
"Alright then," Elbert finally conceded, "but remember, not everyone wants the past to be disturbed. Keep your wits about you."
"Well, I've always been a bit of a rebel," she grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "And besides, if I'm going to face the darkness, I'd rather do it with a friend."
"Then let's uncover these mysteries together," he said, a tinge of approval in his voice. "But hold on tightly to that courage of yours—Atlantis holds many layers."
And with that, the weight of their conversation began to settle in, a tension that was as thick as the twilight air surrounding them.