Chapter 1: The Eclipse of Arthalon
That night, the sky over Arthalon was no longer the one humans knew.
High above, the stars writhed in alien hues. They danced a funeral dirge for a prophecy that had remained dormant for a thousand years.
Then… a deathly silence fell.
The howling winds ceased. The ancient trees bowed in an eerie, prayer-like hush. It was as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something.
Then, it happened.
A black shadow—so thick it felt physical—lunged at the moon and swallowed it whole.
The world plunged into a total eclipse.
No light. No escape. No hope.
On the outskirts of Nirval village, inside a crumbling wooden hut, a woman was fighting her final war.
She was utterly alone.
No husband. No midwife. No comfort.
Nothing accompanied her except the raw echoes of her own screams, splintering against the surrounding mountains.
With one final, soul-draining cry… the child was born.
And when the infant let out his first sound, the very fabric of existence trembled.
[ Alert: The Son of Shadows has been born. ]
At that exact moment:
The earth buckled beneath the feet of all living things.
Every flame and torch in Arthalon was extinguished at once.
One of the Seven Pillars of Light in the heavens cracked, releasing a horrific sound like the shattering of cosmic glass.
From the deepest corner of the shadows within the hut, the old woman, Elara, emerged.
Her eyes were the color of milk, blinded by the passage of time. Yet, her inner vision pierced through the veil of the world.
She approached the infant, gazed upon his tiny face, and whispered in a raspy voice filled with dread:
"He has returned at last… the Son of Shadows."
The next day, a heavy, suffocating silence hung over the kingdom.
No soul dared to speak of the eclipse, or of the scream that had shaken the foundations of the earth.
In secret, Elara carried the boy to the ruins of an ancient temple. There, she marked his shoulder with a strange brand.
A pitch-black circle, crossed by a single slash.
She laid the child upon the doorstep of a humble farmer's home. Before dissolving into the mist as mysteriously as she had appeared, she whispered her final words:
"You will live among them, but you will never be one of them."
That day marked the beginning of a new era.
And for the child left behind, a name was given—a name that would one day make history tremble:
"Ryn."