"I hate this godforsaken world I am a part of."
The world broke in the span of a few days. Some already forgotten; others that will mark times and eras. And for how long has it failed to be whole, only to destroy itself once more?
— The freezing air frosts my lungs. My body falls apart, and yet, I feel no fear... I no longer have a heart, but I still feel it beating...
A man lay resting inside a technological model of arcane propulsion. Something resembling a cybernetic carriage. A turbocharged vehicle. A complex symbol, however, that the world had truly changed. The Six Children of Order and Chaos. The Six Houses finally forgotten. Now they sought to reignite themselves, perhaps in favor of the imminent war. Seeking to burn to their maximum. But, like the most beautiful of stars, their greatest moment of brilliance is just before they go out forever.
— Huh? Forgive me, Lord Kaiwen, I couldn't understand what you said...
In the man's hands was a book. Completely destroyed. Its pages burned, torn. And the parts closest to what it once was seemed to have been reconstructed, perhaps intimately. Every part of that destroyed book seemed highly cared for. Even its ruined and charred leaves.
— This was just a verse from a poem... recited and written by my brother...
The man touched the destroyed book with immeasurable attachment. As his voice sounded, his eyes did not leave the book. He seemed to be trying to reconstruct it.
— I see, Lord Kaiwen... about... this poem by the late Lord Vilos... tell me: why recite it at this very moment? I remember Lord Vilos well... and I remember well that he hated this kind of event.
The man tried to remember every part and every word ever written in that book. He wanted to rewrite it with his hands, as far as his hands could reach. His greatest act of love.
— Why do I recite such words now? That which you ask me... is simple.
The book brought back memories of a time long past. Beliefs generated by a day never forgotten, which would never escape his mind; which shapes his life and what he believes; which places him in the hateful situation in which he finds himself now.
— I recite such words... because that is exactly how I feel at this very moment.
Khaelis's palm rested on a destroyed page of that burned book. A page that, no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember.
— I understand, Lord Kaiwen...
"ANXIOUS TO SEE WHAT THEY ARE PLOTTING."
The carriage lost its speed as it approached the desired destination. Its turbines lost power. The cold trail left by the energy it dispersed began to unravel into a frigid calm, until it stopped completely.
— I fear that... we have arrived, Lord Kaiwen...
The man gently opened the carriage door so that Khaelis could reach his destination.
Tap!
But for a moment, before he could withdraw from the carriage, the man squeezed his forearm. A firm, strong grip.
— Huh??? What are you doing, Saruen?!
Khaelis, caught by surprise, looked into the man's eyes, filled with anguish.
— Please... Lord... argh... Lord Khaelis... Lord Kaiwen... you are a good man... do not let the hell that lies before you consume your mind...
Khaelis stared at him in silence. In time, the grip on his wrist loosened, and soon, he let go.
— Do not worry, Saruen...
Khaelis nodded.
— I am fully aware... of the hell before me.
Thus, the two locked eyes for the last time at that moment. Slowly Khaelis descended from the vehicle and, slowly, the man followed him with his eyes. Different expressions were etched upon their faces. Saruen had agony in his gaze; the lament of seeing a man in whom he saw a good heart purposely drowning himself in that sea of pain, which he saw clearly. But, even so, he was willing to swim in those black, dense, and shadowy waters to reach his goal. Khaelis's expression saw something else. Looking only forward, where the event was taking place, his eyes burned. His mind, closed on purpose, craved only one objective; his eyes saw only that path. Within Khaelis also burned Dark Determination. In his hands, the noble ShadowStorm did not burn, but rather an old and scorched book. The reason for being there.
— Vilos... this is... so that I can return...
The Grand Event. The Great Main Hall that resided in the Heart of the EndGarden. After years of an extinguished flame, the fire of the high elite burned as strong as in ancient eras, as in its prime. But with war imminent and with the great revelation of the century, everything leads to only one result: the world burning or becoming something totally different. The Prince, the last remaining member of the Royal bloodline, Anexzander Rodalight, kept secret for years by the Grand Counselor, was back.
— WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!! HONORED MEMBERS OF THE GREAT NOBLE HOUSES, BRAVE MILITARY MEN, AND GUESTS OF THE GRAND COUNSELOR AND ROYAL FAMILY!!! LET US TOAST TO THE RETURN OF THE PRINCE!!!
Glasses clinked amidst the voices echoing in the hall, laughter that crossed like serrated blades. The nest of the world's high caste, wrapped in the conspiracy of a grand event that undid the greatest lie of the century.
— ATTENTION, DEAR GUESTS!!! THE GRAND COUNSELOR AND PRINCE ANEXZANDER RODALIGHT WOULD LIKE TO SHARE THEIR WORDS IN PERSON!!! PLEASE, WELCOME THEM!!!
A rain of applause followed.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
As announced, the Grand Counselor ascended to the center of the hall. Moribund, his thin carcass and pale skin, with that long black hair that reached past his waist. His life supports glowed on his torso, betraying a physical effort that went beyond his habit and physical capacity; his breathing mask, which covered his mouth, was foggier than ever due to the effort of his pulmonary machines, which seemed to overheat. His legs and thin arms trembled like never before in the effort of climbing the stairs to the stage. With this came an unshakeable silence, as agonizing as the deplorable physical state of the Grand Counselor. The applause ceased; the eyes of that fragile elite locked only on the dying man. Comments were extinguished along with the applause.
— Argh... arghh...
The only sound that remained in that golden hall was the forced breathing, which tore through everyone's ears with pain and agony. The artificial breath of a dead lung, the same breath that came from that man. His face, hidden behind his great black hair. The sickly vision of a sick man, on the verge of an imminent physical collapse in front of everyone.
Khaelis watched that measureless physical suffering in agony. Almost infinite, endless. As if that moment would last forever.
Along with locked eyes and silenced mouths, everyone's minds grew restless. Thoughts about that horrible situation in which the powerful Grand Counselor found himself disturbed them. For, after that tragic day, besides the world turning upside down, something greater had broken. And it made them remember: something that this great event, which lit the flame of nobility, tried to remedy or hide—the great conspiracy behind it all. After all, the Grand Counselor alone had hidden something that changed that world; beyond that day, something wrong that went against their beliefs was happening or was about to happen.
Khaelis, restless, observing the dense situation and with that book that reminded him again and again of his true objectives resting in his hand, saw and observed Torosh Nariwel in the distance, leader of the Grand Counselor's High Guard—a military unit composed of six members hand-picked by the Grand Counselor himself. Each member carried a mysterious power derived from the SanctBlood: the SankitinBlood. Khaelis knew Torosh, recognized him. Torosh did not come from nobility by birth; he was discovered and rose thanks to his potential recognized by the Grand Counselor. Khaelis saw him as honorable, strong, and convicted. And, above all, Khaelis respected him.
With his eyes fixed on Torosh and with all that tense and silent crowd, where only the painful breathing of the Grand Counselor's false lungs could be heard, Khaelis moved toward Torosh with firm steps. The only one who even moved a muscle in the midst of that paralyzed crowd. Khaelis approached and soon positioned himself beside him, turning his eyes back to the Grand Counselor.
— What do you make of this, Nariwel? I'm sure you wouldn't just accept the Grand Counselor's false excuses and all this damn conspiracy...
Khaelis's voice sounded serene amidst the chaos. It was not aggressive; it was directed to an equal, aiming only for questioning.
— I understand your objection, Kaiwen... keeping one's guard up before what we do not comprehend is natural. And I was quite sure that the man who would question him most would be you... but I will keep my feet firm, for I owe this to him. My loyalty belongs only to the Grand Counselor.
Torosh remained firm in his response. His voice did not tremble, did not question. He understood Khaelis and his questionings, but, above all, he confirmed his loyalty without going against Khaelis's suspicion.
— Yes... I just can't see why you don't alert yourself or suspect... it's clear as day. Beyond the great lie told for years by the Grand Counselor about the Royal Family, he clearly aims for war at this moment... why? Why not question him, Nariwel?
Khaelis took his eyes off the center of the hall. This time they were guided to Torosh; Khaelis narrowed them. His voice rose in pitch.
— It's simple, Kaiwen... this is my crusade. All that is mine belongs to him... I owe him my soul and my strength.
Torosh slowly turned to Khaelis.
— The Grand Counselor truly aims for war... as you said, it is clear as day... but I trust with all my conviction in every action of this man. If he aims for war, I will take his side and fight for him, even if I do not understand his actions for now, nor the reason for having kept the Prince a secret all these years.
The eyes of the two men met in mutual understanding.
— Even not understanding for now, I will follow him. I know his heart... if war is the path he sees for a better world, I will be there... after all, it is for our crusades and for what we believe with all our hearts that we live, is it not, Kaiwen? That is why, even hating this kind of infernal place, we are here. For that is our conviction.
Khaelis swallowed hard, nodding. He felt every word uttered.
— Yes, Nariwel... that is why we are here... for our conviction.
Khaelis squeezed the book in his hand tightly. Once again, his mind cleared. If for his crusade war was necessary, then he would be at the forefront to fight for all of it.
The silence was now total. The hall had come almost to a complete standstill.
— Argh... argh...
The sound of the Grand Counselor's breathing returned heavier, more painful, fighting for the slightest sigh. Agony flooded their hearts. Suddenly, a horrible sensation entered the hall.
CLAP!
The dry sound soon spread. The Grand Counselor's fragile legs could not bear the weight of his thin body. Eyes widened.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Despair made the air coarse. The Grand Counselor would plummet down the stairs. Once again, the foul act of the world's destruction took shape. The eyes of Torosh Nariwel and Khaelis Kaiwen widened.
— What the??!!!???
Torosh immediately raised his hand. Hearts raced. Eyes widened; Khaelis swallowed hard and Torosh took the lead. Real despair: the impact of the fall would kill him. Perhaps, just perhaps, something as horrible for this world as that godforsaken day. Throats closed and those who did not act could not take their eyes away.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Hearts were fast, as fast as the imminent fall. The end of so many beliefs and hearts about to finish.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Tap!
Their eyes fixed, now with despair replaced by something entirely different.
— Hahah! Not so fast, old friend!
Yes, that new feeling flooded their souls and hearts.
— OH MY GOD!!! IT'S TRUE, THE PRINCE IS BACK!!!
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
And in the end, all that anguish was replaced by a great, relieved sigh. The applause returned stronger than ever and those thoughts that questioned so many lies and conspiracies were finally replaced by a gigantic euphoria.
— Gulp... argh... of course, he is here! There is nothing we need to worry about...
Torosh, who was sweating at the possibility of seeing his beliefs crumble on the cold floor of that hall, now sighed in relief, resuming his closed posture from before.
— Yeah... he really is here...
Khaelis watched that graceful scene that illuminated his eyes. For, before everyone, the flame that would guide them as a symbol in their hearts from now on, the one who illuminated them with the future destiny to come, the chance to reignite or, perhaps, change forever. For in that man's arms, the Grand Counselor rested firmly now: the one who saved him from such a fall, Anexzander Rodalight.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
The intense applause flooded everything. Hearts were finally alive now, truly alive, guided by a single symbol. Now, supporting each other, they climbed the stairs toward the top of the center of the hall. The Grand Counselor and the last Rodalight now symbolized the hope of all those souls who applauded them.
— Arghhh!!! Damn, he really is alive! Gulp!! Arghhh!!!
A voice totally lost in its own words, washed in pure alcohol and staggering, gradually approached Torosh and Khaelis.
— Argh... are you really drunk already, Martiers?
Torosh was already sighing, already tired upon seeing the image of Girash Martiers in the distance, already completely intoxicated, approaching.
— Argh... don't fuck with me!!! This is a damn party!!! If I don't get like this, it's not even worth it!!!
Another sigh came from Torosh's mouth, who wiped the sweat from his face, imagining the scene Girash would force him to endure.
— No, Martiers... argh... look, Girash, we as members of the High Guard must...
— Come on, Nariwel!!! We never do anything!!! Lower your guard just this once, go on!!! Just so you have an idea, I didn't even bring BreakerRulesh...
Torosh wiped his face, now totally covered in saliva and alcohol ejected from Girash's mouth...
— Argh... okay, Girash... just this once. Don't... please... don't embarrass any of the other four... just this once... damn... Kinash must already be worse than you... and... Kaiwen, please help me... — typical of him.
Upon turning, Khaelis's silhouette and vision had vanished completely, abandoning Torosh Nariwel and Girash Martiers in that situation.
Thump! Thump!
Anexzander's finger tapped twice against the microphone provided by the host of the entire event. Beside him, the Grand Counselor rested in a chair.
— Well... I believe everyone here is perplexed and incredulous with the return of the Royal Family after these long years... and suspicious with reason... of the Grand Counselor and of me...
The voice echoed through the entire Hall. The sharp sound of microphone interference spread along with his voice.
— But I believe that, before your suspicion... we need to have faith. We have been through difficult times. All of us, in these godforsaken long years... we fell. We all suffered a lot... our beliefs and customs, shattered... torn to pieces since that day. We lost what made us who we were... every Noble House, every family, every home... every cult. Everything that made our being beautiful was run over by this new world that destroys our souls and hearts. That is why I hid. The Grand Counselor, aiming at least to keep the last seed of the Royal Family sane, hid an immeasurable secret that pierced his chest and heart... and we will never forgive ourselves for that...
Everyone in that hall was consumed by something that had long been dead in that elite: Unity. Dead for years. But something in that voice, in those words—even if they tried to look with suspicious, analytical eyes—that voice captured them. As it had years ago, a strange sense of unity returned.
— But I ask... that even if you do not forgive us... raise your hands and, even with suspicion... let us fight so that nothing like what separated us ignites again. Raise your hands again. And thus we burn our soul and heart.
His words, even if few, truly brought back the unity that had not existed for a long time.
— I... well, the entire Royal Family was the victim of an attack. An attack made and guided by a sect. I believe well known to everyone here... The Rotting Flesh. Many years ago, a land was dying of hunger, weakening with diseases and the plague... people in need, poor, excluded from the world... but in them existed the glimmer of the Purple Flame. They joined together, tired of the hell that was their lives; they burned their energies to the maximum... and thus... their energetic molecules opened a dimensional rift to what we can call hell.
Silence... everyone swallowed hard... once again, that disgrace was remembered.
— In order to extinguish the evil that plagued them, those miserable people succumbed to the energy of darkness... The Green Flame. Thus, a pact with the abyssal of rot was made. In order to eliminate their pain, the abyssal gave them quality of life... but later it collected the price. The Plague was released on the land, cursing them. And from the lineage of those who cursed themselves, evil would be born... it was a matter of time until disease and decomposition took our lands... our world that belongs to us.
Anxiety. The fear of remembering all that. That hell so close, a reality that was so much before their eyes, which still suffered from its consequences.
— But... something saved us from evil. RyzisX, the founding Noble House... alongside the Royal Family... founded the world. Along with Kaiwen, Shaman, Reixys, and Hell, RyzisX and the Rodalight Family. The six Children of Order and Chaos created everything as we know it... as we see... Years of war against evil saw us victorious in our prime... but the sacrifice came from them. RyzisX saved our world, our cause... in the name of our security. They made a pact of unity with the Rotting Flesh and its profane evil, purifying their six children with a Simiram in the name of the world's good... so that evil would not be real... would never change our history... and for centuries we could see ourselves in full security. Eras and eras of peace in the name of the RyzisX thus were made...
Everyone's heart calmed... but along with it came restlessness, for they knew that was not the end of the story.
— All of this... until that godforsaken day... influenced by abyssal and infinite evil, ordered by the endless evil of the demons from the other side, the sect caused that godforsaken attack... the attack that claimed the life of Lyza Simiram RyzisX, sickened the Grand Counselor, my father and mother... and my brothers... all succumbed to the unprecedented disease of the Plague... and thus they destroyed our world and extinguished our flame...
The tragic end of everything. So true, so real. The expected end that everyone knew. The tragedy that united their hearts. The tragedy that separated them. But something said there was still air in the young Rodalight's lungs to continue his words.
— Out of fear, in all these years I remained hidden, and my shame could not be greater here before all of you...
Something now unexpected seemed to be coming. The announcement of something new. Something that their ears had not heard before and, thus, anxiety took them.
— But... I returned for a reason greater than all of us, my shame and this tragic past... the reason is our world. Our world that is in danger... the risk of, because of this godforsaken evil, this godforsaken chaos, being forgotten forever. I come here today, before all of you, swallowing my shame and guilt, to fight! For our lives and our hearts! The evil that once took everything from us is back, more alive than ever! The abyssal evil that closed our eyes and our doors lives and laughs in our faces! Standing, while we crawl!
There was the reason for all the anxiety: hearts now truly united, dancing to the same music like drums in complete harmony for only one objective.
— This evil stepped on us and treated us like trash! The fallen from the other side... the sects that utter the evil that contaminates the world, looking into our faces, directly into our eyes, while they laugh! I come today to tell you: THE ROTTING FLESH LIVES!!! THE ABSOLUTE EVIL THAT STOLE EVERYTHING FROM US!!! THEY HAVE RETURNED! MISERABLE TERRORISTS WHO HAVE BEEN DESTROYING WHAT WE BUILT!!!... and with that... a cursed one... someone who carries the corrosive energy of the infamous Green Flame... lives among us. The purest evil... the Last Son of the Rotting Flesh...
Breaths grew heavy... they understood. The final point in that speech, the perfect symphony of their souls: fighting for what belonged to them.
— Igyris... that is his name... the Last Son, the one responsible for... argh... the catalyst, the bomb that exploded that day... along with Mana Reixys... they have been waging wars with our system... and I tell you: SHALL WE FALL WITHOUT FIGHTING??? I SAY: NO!!!!
Finally, it was announced. Everyone felt every thread of their being shiver. A reason for which to fight, to live, to direct their hatred. This was a declaration of...
— WAR!!! WE WILL NOT FALL WITHOUT FIGHTING! WE WILL FIGHT FOR OUR WORLD!!! WE DO NOT FIGHT AGAINST NATIONS OR PEOPLES!!! TODAY WE FIGHT FOR OUR HONOR AND OUR WORLD!!! WE FIGHT AGAINST THE PUREST EVIL!!! THIS IS A DECLARATION OF WAR!!!
And finally, all their hearts screamed together. Applause took over the central hall. The howls of those who felt determination burning deep in their hearts. And in the midst of that crowd, screams and applause, Khaelis crossed the sea that formed there, in silence, not letting himself be bought by the war propaganda that spread there.
— I know this book... poetry, is it not?
An old voice sounded amidst that chaos. A voice directed at Khaelis and the book he carried in his hands.
— Yes... poetry...
Khaelis turned to the voice. Slowly, he saw Gythin's silhouette take his vision, sitting on what appeared to be a throne bathed in pure gold—a reflection of his nature.
— Oh yes, clear as day... I didn't know you were an admirer, Lord Kaiwen...
Gythin swirled his glass. The red liquid of alcoholic, acidic content overflowed the sides, but did not bubble.
— No... I wasn't... until...
Gythin stared at him. He guided his lips to the glass, swallowing that sweet red liquid.
— Ah yes... Vilos was a good lad... it's normal for the younger brother to want to follow in the footsteps of the older.
Khaelis felt something in those words. Something that deeply bothered him. With every sip following those words, Khaelis squeezed the book in his hands as much as he felt the tightness in his heart.
— Don't think you truly knew Vilos, Kaiwen... he, much more than I, saw early on the rot of all this. More than anyone, he would hate being here... in this nest of...
— Rats? Is that how you see it, isn't it?
The continuous and shapeless wave of noise that seemed to have no end—applause, screams, the clinking of glasses—at that moment seemed to stop, like all time around them.
— You are really very "inexperienced," young Kaiwen... I mean... you don't have a true notion, do you? Of real power... or of all they can offer... This is funny and totally ironic. Your honorable words are almost like rehearsed monologues, isn't that how it sounds to you?
The silence was now more than unshakeable for those two. Khaelis took a step forward, taken by the old man's words. He stared him in the eyes and asked:
— What are your words seeking to say, Gythin?
His firm fist burned. Veins popped violently, consumed by stress and the immeasurable sensation of stinging.
— Ah, Young Kaiwen... I only seek to say that you are... naive... perhaps that is the right word...
Khaelis's gaze pierced completely through Gythin. There, a glass filled until it overflowed, and only that.
— Is that what your words seek to say? Because I truly think the opposite.
— And what do you think, Young Kaiwen?
Khaelis looked at the ceiling of the hall, where all the light that illuminated that place was hung. Staring at it, even if it hurt his eyes, he preferred to look at it directly, even if the light was so strong.
— This whole place...
The dance of all those men and women present there, swallowed by their desires, fears, and anxieties.
— I do not belong to this place. Not that I am morally superior to you, but I am certain...
Khaelis's gaze shifted from the light and there he directed his eyes to that entire hall, observing around, on all sides. Looking around, every life, every reality that existed there at that moment.
— DAMN IT, GIRASH!!! YOU'VE ALREADY DRUNK TOO MUCH, YOU BASTARD! YOU'RE BRINGING SHAME TO THE HIGH GUARD!!!
Khaelis's eyes captured Nagneri Kiners, a member of the High Guard, who was trying to contain Girash Martiers, completely intoxicated, who was collapsing on top of a large counter while Torosh Nariwel smiled from the corner of his mouth, even if embarrassed.
— I am certain that...
His fist continued to press the book.
— This world...
Eyes guiding themselves through each reality. A slight smile appeared at the corner of his lip, even if invisible to any eyes.
— Argh... what a party, eh? Don't tell me they only summoned us here just for an idiotic political propaganda...
His eyes passed over Amakvel Snakesh, ex-member of the Blood Blades, who through his services and mentality had reached high rank in military levels. Soon the slight smile vanished.
— I see the beauty of the world...
Soon his eyes had crossed the entire crowd. Known faces and many unknown.
— See, Kameliel? With olives, it's infinitely superior.
— Honestly... I prefer to stay away from activities involving alcohol, father...
Hiro and Kameliel in the background: military, nobles. The high caste of all that noble and fragile world. But something in his interior screamed increasingly determined.
— I am not part of this... like the tide that goes against a boat. This goes against everything I believe in.
For, in the end, his eyes found in the distance, exiled at the back of the Great Hall, Cifiro and Noziel RyzisX. Isolated. And, finally, their eyes and features covered by shadows and shame.
Gythin observed him. His serious expression at that moment locked on Khaelis. He laughed. A sip followed; soon another laugh.
— Hahah... ah yes... of course... your entire thought and daydream led you to an answer that was obvious... I already expected that from you, young Kaiwen. But still, it was good to follow your reasoning.
— Obvious answer?
Khaelis questioned him, positioning himself further forward.
— Ah, yes... exactly... let's see, Kaiwen... I have a certain vision in this world, something that has accompanied me since my youth... I believe there are two types of man: those who lift the wagon and those who drive it. Those who lift it have a clear role: they are the necessary pieces for the wagon to exist... however, that is only their role, necessary pieces that exist in abundance. However, the men who drive it are few... even if they don't have the skill to lift it. A wagon is only useful if it is driven... understand? That's how the world works: those who lift don't need to know how to drive... we just need you to keep lifting our wagons. You... Kameliel Reixys... and even Arcann-El are our starting points. I like to see myself as the one who drives. I, the Grand Counselor, and even Hiro Reixys... are nothing if you don't lift, right? But it's okay... you don't need to have the skill to drive it, Young Kaiwen... for your function as a man, this mentality is great...
Khaelis shivered... swallowed hard, listening to each word in turn...
— Lift? Role?...
Before he could rationalize such words, a palm touched his shoulder.
Tap!
— Lord Kaiwen... the Grand Counselor wishes to see you personally... please, if it is your will, follow me.
Khaelis, feeling the weight of the palm, slowly turned. His eyes met the man who had touched him: a thin and reserved man in a suit, no different from the men who served there in the Great Hall.
— Well, well... apparently he wants your attention, young Kaiwen... you're going to lift his wagon now so he can guide it... yes... you're good at that... and he will know well how to use your talents... you may go... leave old Gythin here resting.
Khaelis once again turned his gaze to Gythin, processing his words, every piece of information granted there. Wagons. Perhaps it had a greater meaning, however such meaning gave him a feeling of discomfort. Something that went beyond his vision. There, truly, he was naive.
— Let's go... please, take me to the Grand Counselor.
— Of course, Lord Kaiwen.
Thus the two followed, soon vanishing amidst the populous swarm of people. The sounds covered them, leaving old Gythin sitting there, alone, accompanied only by his glass and its contents.
— Well... once again lonely... it would be good if Arcann-El savored this kind of event... he would be good company... but what an antisocial boy...
Meanwhile, Khaelis and that young man continued crossing that crowd in silence. The noise, the chaos that took place there, kept them unshakeable toward the destination to which they were sent, in full and total silence.
— Here, Lord Kaiwen... The Grand Counselor wishes for you to enter alone.
The young man stopped in front of a door, before a vast separate and dark corridor. A sinister feeling came from there, along with a continuous and static noise, similar to a large computer.
— Right... I'm going in.
Khaelis, without questioning, stepped into that black and dark immensity. Soon the shadows covered him completely. His footsteps became inaudible amidst the vast darkness and, with that, in an increasing way, a shadowy and macabre sensation took over his body. With every step, closer and closer to the door, that sensation increased, as if black chains pulled his body down, weighing his soul and his being, tying themselves around his neck and giving him a huge discomfort. As if a negative energy signature, which denied any form of life, breathed behind that door. Then, before it, after so many steps, he opened it.
Treck...
Tap... tap... tap...
Three steps that seemed so long amidst the vast darkness...
— Ah... you've arrived...
Such darkness that, at that moment, completely invaded his heart.
— Yes... I am here...
His eyes fully met the eyes of that man. So fragile... so sick.
— Hah... I see... well, let's begin, boy... your introduction.
But, even though so sick, he exhaled that dark sea around him. Sitting in a chair coupled to another life support, he stood up.
— You know, boy... the Black Flame... the Canticle of the Black Angel.
Even though so trembling... so trembling, horror accompanied him with every step, as if every fiber of his fragile being screamed not to crumble.
— Yes... I saw the Black Flame... and I know the Canticle.
The weight that seemed to tear through their fragile throats, crushing his being.
— Please... tell me: in your knowledge, what is the Canticle of the Black Angel about?
It was clear. Finally, all that weight that man carried. That fragile, thin, and sick man, with that long black hair. It became clear what that man carried, after all.
— Deny everything... burn the world. The 10 weapons and the circle of hell. Denying the world. Denying everything. Like the first. And in the end, destroy the world. Dante and his hell. Dante burns for. Dante suffers for. Denying the world...
That which he carried, in the ideological vision of the one before him, was something beyond evil itself. The true and correct vision of the one who guided. Tempestuous. It was clear now. For the truth is that it was so clear, it was so cloudy that it blinded the worlds.
— It's the tale of Dante, isn't it? The Canticle of the Black Angel... Rodalight... the first of the lineage. The one who denied everything. The power to deny oneself and others. Along with the abyssal evil of other worlds... Dante made a pact... the natural Purple Flame of humans... corrupted along with the entire Rodalight lineage. Thus the Black Flame arose... the power to deny everything... Can I tell you something, young man? This is so wrong... the Canticle. This very one that was passed to you. Meanings, texts... everything... is nothing but a lie...
But, in the end, understanding the motives no longer made the slightest sense. The wheel had already begun to turn. Some would lift, others would drive. That, yes, was clear. And for reasons and reasons, all would follow their hearts and, out of selfishness, do whatever they wanted, for they thought it was right.
— Wrong?... No, impossible... the Canticle of the Black Angel is passed down through each generation to each member of the Six Children of Order and Chaos... the origin of the Rodalights... and Dante... the one who denied the world and for that reason cursed it.
And thus, now the wheel would turn toward only one course. Destiny was certain. Motives, ideals, crusades... following your heart was all that mattered now. Nothing else mattered at this moment. The world follows its path toward its end. The two sides of a single coin. Everything boiled down to pure selfishness.
— Yes... the Canticle is a great and gigantic lie... but there is something in it that lives firm: the Black Flame... the null power... of the nothingness... beyond life and anti-life... it is the complete power of non-existence.
And now, in this ancient wheel that was made new, those who say they are not guided by selfishness, revenge, or crusades believe they can guide the course of the world, decide a future they find ideal, making choices that belonged to so many lives... What evil would be greater than that?
— Yes... it became clear... that... is the complete extinction of everything...
The book...
— But it doesn't matter... I don't care about canticles or motives!
The fist once again clenched firm. The voice, once again, in that screaming, aggressive tone.
— I no longer care about your conspiracies or lies! This is... only for one reason: that power is the center of everything now... that is why I am here!
In his eyes, yes, the most powerful flame burned: the burning Dark Determination.
— If that is what you wish, and if that brings him back, then so be it! I am with you! Beyond your war propaganda and so mysterious objectives! If that power can deny everything! I've already understood where you wanted to get... if that is what you wish...
He raised it toward the sick man and closed it with force. The book in his hands rested and the flame in his eyes, as never before, burned.
— If that is what you wish... for what we pursue! For our desires! Let us be guided to death by our determination! Until the end...
And then, the sick man smiled back.
— Ah, yes... I didn't even truly need to explain, did I? You understood everything very quickly... for our objectives... for our desires... let us be guided to death, eh? So be our determination... we will use each other until the end...
The final contract finally made. What such a virtuous man feared so much to pursue his tragic ghost, finally. Perhaps his soul had just been sold, accepting the final contract and all that would be generated from this wheel that turns so much to pursue what he so craved. To use each other until the end, until their deaths are as clear as their determination.
— Finally... it is done... we are going to pursue what we want until the end... no matter what we have to do or what we have to step over, if that is what we crave... so we shall do... but first I want you to meet some people... Powermagi... and their boss.
The doors once again opened, revealing six long shadowy silhouettes, cold as the mythological hell of ice. Smiles marked with lust and greed, except for one.
— Executives...