The world of Vairaz was a tapestry woven with ancient magic and burgeoning kingdoms, none more revered than Bergloem. Its verdant forests teemed with whispered legends, and its people flourished under the benevolent rule of King Emour Lathorn. Yet, beneath this veneer of tranquility, a shadow stirred – Zibha Veer, a witch consumed by an insatiable hunger for power. Her coven, a secluded den nestled amidst the treacherous peaks of the Serpent's Tooth Mountains, was a laboratory of dark arts, where forbidden texts were deciphered and potent concoctions brewed. Zibha desired not just power, but ultimate dominion, a state she believed could only be achieved through eternal life. The fleeting nature of mortality, even for the most formidable mage, gnawed at her soul.
Her quest led her to forgotten scrolls and cryptic prophecies, all pointing to a singular, elusive truth: the potion of immortality. Its ingredients, however, were scattered across Vairaz, guarded by mythical beasts and ancient enchantments. Legend spoke of a skilled warrior, a true hero, capable of braving such dangers. That warrior, Zibha discovered, was General Boug Reven, the esteemed commander of Bergloem's royal army. Boug, though outwardly loyal, harbored a simmering resentment, a belief that his prowess was undervalued, and that the throne was his rightful destiny. Zibha, with her venomous whispers, exploited this ambition. She offered him the ultimate prize – the crown of Bergloem – in exchange for his sword and his relentless pursuit of the potion's components.
Boug, blinded by greed, readily agreed. Under the guise of grand expeditions, he embarked on perilous journeys, his elite soldiers unknowingly aiding Zibha's dark designs. He battled the frost giants of the Northern Wastes for the tears of a frozen dragon, outwitted the desert sirens for the shimmering scales of the Sun Serpent, and delved into the abyssal depths of the Whispering Caves for the heart of a petrified ancient tree. Each ingredient was delivered to Zibha, fueling her escalating power.
The day came when the final ingredient was acquired. Zibha, now confident in her ultimate victory, unleashed her sorcery. A coup was meticulously planned. King Emour, caught unawares, fell victim to Zibha's dark magic, his life extinguished in a single, devastating surge of arcane energy. The throne of Bergloem was seized, its banner replaced by a gruesome, stylized raven. To solidify their triumph, Zibha and General Boug declared a grand feast, a macabre celebration of their new reign.
It was amidst this dark revelry that Corine Mavre found herself. Corine, a woman of gentle spirit and radiant beauty, worked in a small bakery in the tranquil village of Eziah, just beyond the palace walls. Her days were filled with the aroma of fresh bread and the warmth of her quiet life. Her greatest joy, however, was her secret love for Prince Jiyou Lhatorn, the King's son, a noble and compassionate young man. When the devastating news of King Emour's death reached Eziah, Corine's heart seized with fear for Jiyou. Driven by an urgent need to ensure his safety, she disguised herself as a servant, slipping past the wary guards and into the bustling, unsettlingly festive palace.
She moved through the opulent halls, her eyes scanning desperately for Jiyou, until she heard a commotion from the grand banquet hall. Pushing her way through the throng of uneasy nobles and soldiers, she witnessed a scene that would forever alter her destiny. Prince Jiyou, his face etched with grief and fury, confronted General Boug and Zibha. "You traitors!" Jiyou's voice boomed, echoing through the stunned hall. "You murdered my father! You will pay for this!"
A furious battle erupted. Prince Jiyou, flanked by his fiercely loyal retainer, Sir Bern Harn, and a handful of unwavering royal guards, clashed with General Boug's forces and Zibha's magically enhanced cultists. Swords clashed, spells flew, and the sounds of chaos filled the once-grand hall. Zibha, reveling in her power, held aloft a gleaming vial – the potion of immortality. "To our eternal reign!" she cackled, her eyes burning with triumph, and brought the vial to her lips.
But fate, in its cruel and unpredictable way, intervened. In the maelstrom of the battle, a stray sword strike from Sir Bern, aimed at one of Boug's soldiers, struck Zibha's arm. The vial slipped from her grasp, arcing through the air. Corine, hidden amidst the chaos, instinctively reached out, not to catch it, but to brace herself against a tumbling servant. The potion, a swirling, iridescent liquid, shattered against her chest, soaking into her simple dress and, more critically, into her very skin.
A blinding flash of light erupted from Corine. Zibha, her eyes widening with a terrifying realization, shrieked, "KILL HER BEFORE SHE GETS THE FULL POWER OF THE POTION!" Her voice, laced with raw fury and fear, sent a chill through the hall. With a guttural roar, Zibha lunged, a obsidian-bladed dagger appearing in her hand. Before anyone could react, she plunged it deep into Corine's chest.
Corine gasped, a wave of agonizing pain, followed by a strange, tingling warmth, washing over her. She crumpled to the ground, her lifeblood staining the marble floor. Her last sight was Prince Jiyou, his face a mask of horror and despair, rushing towards her. Zibha's plan was clear: if she couldn't claim the immortality for herself directly, she would destroy the vessel it had chosen. She knew that the power of Harven, the essence of immortality magic, would not truly die with Corine. Instead, Corine's soul, infused with Harven, would merely reincarnate. Zibha's ultimate goal was to harness this reincarnation, to perform the ancient 'Zhepian ritual' and forcibly absorb Harven from Corine's next life.
Jiyou reached Corine, his hands trembling as he cradled her lifeless body. "Corine! No!" he cried, his voice raw with anguish. He ordered his remaining guards to retreat, to save themselves, but it was too late for her. The battle raged, but for Jiyou, the light had gone out.