This took a long time. Did some typing, pasting, modification.
I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did and that you take the time to read if you are free.

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THE LEGEND
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Prologue: By the Bonfire

He drew a deep breath, inhaled the smoke, and let it out slowly. Most of his face was hidden under a thick, old hood, and behind him there was only pitch darkness. In the dim glow of the pipe it was impossible to see his features.

He introduced himself as a bard - yet no one believed him, as his voice was thick and ragged - and we were suspicious that he traveled the dangerous forest alone.

However, he offered to tell us a story if we shared our meal and the warmth of our fire. We agreed, if only because we couldn't leave this traveler to the cold forest. We made ourselves comfortable by the fire, holding our weapons at the ready in case of danger, and waited for his story to begin. The night was ice-cold, and his low, thick voice carried quietly across the mountain as, setting aside his pipe, he opened his mouth and began to speak.


Episode 1: Genesis

The story I'm about to tell you is about those who we call gods. Listen carefully as this is the true story...

Long ago, in a time before thought, there was only a globe in which all creation was mixed. As there was nothing with which to compare it, the globe was big and small, dark and bright, everything and nothing.

Over a hundred million years, the globe began to grow and eventually two powers slowly began to form within. As they grew, the powers developed consciousness and ego and separated into white light and darkness. White light formed as female and called itself Einhasad. The darkness formed as male and named itself Gran Kain. These two beings marked the beginning of the entire universe, and all that we know today.

Einhasad and Gran Kain pooled their strength to break out of the globe. In this action the globe was shattered into pieces of all kinds. Some pieces rose to become Sky, some fell down to become Ground. Between Sky and Ground there was Water, and some parts of Ground rose up to become Land.

The spirit of the globe was named Ether, also shattered with the breaking of the globe. This brought the various animals and plants into being. "Genesis Creature" was formed of this spirit, and giants were the best of this kind. They were known as the Wise Ones, for their intelligence was as great as their strong bodies. The giants promised to keep faith in Einhasad and Gran Kain, as it was the actions of the two gods that created their life and world. Einhasad and Gran Kain were satisfied with the giants and appointed them to be the masters of all living creatures. This was before death and true paradise existed.

Einhasad and Gran Kain gave birth to many god-children between them. The first five of these children were empowered with the authority of the earth. The eldest daughter, Shilen, was in charge of water. The eldest son, Paagrio, controlled the fire, and the second daughter, Maphr, controlled the land. The second son, Sayha, became master of the wind. For the youngest, Eva, there were no elements remaining, so she created poems and music. While the other gods were busy with their responsibilities, Eva wrote poems and serenaded them with music. And thus the era of the gods began and there existed no place on earth unknown to the gods.


Episode 2: Creation of Races

inhasad was goddess of creation and created forms using her own spirit. Her children used their own powers to create life from these forms.
Shilen instilled the spirit of water into the first form that was created. This is how the race of elves was created.
Paagrio instilled the spirit of fire into the second form that was created. This is how the race of orcs was created.
Maphr instilled the spirit of earth into the third form. This is how the race of dwarves was created.
Sayha instilled the spirit of wind into the fourth form. This is how the race of arteias was created.
Gran Kain was a god of destruction. When he saw the work of Einhasad, he became curious and jealous. He imitated Einhasad and created a form in his own image. Then he went to see Shilen, their oldest daughter, and asked her to instill spirit into the form. Shilen was very surprised and told him, "Father, why do you want to do such a thing? Einhasad, my mother, is responsible for creation. Please do not covet the type of work that is not yours. A creature who receives life from a god of destruction will only bring about disaster."
But Gran Kain would not give up. After much cajoling and persuading, finally he was able to obtain Shilen's consent.
"I will do it then. But I have already given the spirit of water to Mother. So the only thing I can give you is the leftovers." Shilen gave the spirit of stagnant and rotten water to Gran Kain. Gran Kain gladly accepted it.
However, Gran Kain felt that it was not enough to give only one spirit to his creature. So he went to see Paagrio, his oldest son. Like Shilen, Paagrio also warned his father. However, he could not refuse Gran Kain. So he gave the spirit of dying fire to Gran Kain. Gran Kain gladly accepted it.
Maphr also pleaded with her father with tears in her eyes but ended up giving the spirit of barren and contaminated earth to her father. Sayha, in his turn, gave his father the spirit of wild and violent wind.
Satisfied, Gran Kain took everything that was given to him and cried, "Look at the living creatures I am making! Look at they who are born with the spirit of water, the spirit of fire, the spirit of earth and the spirit of wind. They will be stronger and wiser than giants! They will rule the world!'
Gran Kain shouted with great pride to all the world and instilled spirit into the creatures of his own image. However, the result was terrible. His creatures were weak, stupid, sly, and cowardly. All the other gods despised Gran Kain's creatures. Overcome by the shame of his failure, Gran Kain abandoned his creatures and went into hiding for a time. These creatures are called humans.
The race of elves was wise and knew how to perform magic. But they were less wise than giants. Therefore, giants let the elves serve them in politics and magic-related activities.
The race of orcs was strong. They possessed inexhaustible strength and great will power. However, they were not as strong as giants. Therefore, giants let orcs serve them in warfare.
The race of dwarves was skilled. They were good engineers, skilled mathematicians and excelled in fine craftsmanship. The giants allowed them to serve in banking and manufacturing work.
The winged race of arteias was freedom-loving and possessed undying curiosity. Giants wanted to capture and subjugate the free-flying creatures, but as soon as an arteia was locked up in a cage, it quickly lost its strength and died. Giants were left with no choice but to allow the arteias to fly free. The arteias visited the city of giants to give them news from other parts of the world.
Humans could not do any one thing well and thus become slaves to the giants, doing all sorts of menial labor. The life of humans was not any better than that of animals.

Episode 3: War of the Gods

Gran Kain was a free and uninhibited god. However, he made a very great mistake by seducing Shilen, his eldest daughter. They conducted an affair, avoiding the eyes of Einhasad, until Shilen became pregnant. When Einhasad found out, she became enraged. Stripping her daughter of her position as water goddess, Einhasad ordered Shilen banished from the continent. Gran Kain turned his back on the situation, and Shilen was left to deal with her fate alone.
While pregnant, Shilen fled to the East. Deep in the middle of a dark forest, she gave birth -- cursing Einhasad and Gran Kain with each excruciating labor pain.
The babies born of Shilen's horrible labor bore the despair and anger of her curses and became demons. Among them, the strongest creatures were called 'dragons.'
There were a total of six dragons born with curses against the six gods. Shilen was filled with wrath towards Einhasad who banished her, and towards Gran Kain who seduced and then abandoned her. Gathering the strength of her children, she created an army to punish the gods.
The strongest dragons were ordered to be at the front of the army of demons to fight against the gods. Hearing this, Aulakiria, the dragon of light, looked at Shilen with sad eyes and spoke.
"Mother, you don't know what you are doing. Do you really want the eternal destruction of the gods? Do you really want your father, mother and siblings to fall down on the ground in pools of their own blood?"
Her appeal did not change Shilen's mind.
At last, the demons invaded the palace where the gods lived, and a fierce battle began. The six dragons destroyed everything in the gods' palace. Even the gods were intimidated by the incredible power of the dragons. The battle seemed destined to continue forever. Yet, if the war did not stop, the world would cease to exist, and all living things would be annihilated.
Numerous god's messengers and demons were destroyed or vanished. Every day there was thunder and lightning, as strong forces clashed violently in the sky. Giants and the other living creatures of earth trembled as they observed the terrible fight in the sky.
The fierce battle continued for several years, and eventually the balance gradually tilted towards one side. In spite of suffering many injuries, Einhasad and Gran Kain, had stronger powers and destroyed many demons.
The dragons kept fighting, though they were deeply wounded and riddled with scars. Their fatigue became more and more apparent. After a time, it seemed like the war would come to an end with the extermination of Shilen's army. In the end, the dragons spread their wings and flew to the earth to escape. The surviving demons followed. The gods wanted to kill the retreating army. However, due to their own injuries, all they could do was watch as the dragons and demons departed.
As Shilen's children perished one by one and lost the war, Shilen could not stand her sadness. She invented The Underworld and ruled over it.

Episode 4: The Great Flood

After Shilen was gone, Eva inherited the authority to rule over water. But Eva had a timid nature and after witnessing her elder sister's terrible demise and the war among gods, she became even more fearful. In order to avoid the weighty responsibility that fell to her, she dug a tunnel at the bottom of a lake and hid.
With no goddess to rule over them, the spirits of water were without purpose and began to wander aimlessly. Too much water flowed to one place and formed a great marsh. Water did not flow at all in another place and there a desert formed. Often times, part of the continent suddenly sank into the ocean or a new island suddenly sprang out of nowhere. In some places, it rained day and night until everything except the tips of the highest mountains were submerged.
Where any piece of land remained above water, all the living creatures flocked to preserve their life and the piece of land fell to pandemonium. Both on the continent and in the ocean, all the living creatures were suffering. On behalf of all the living creatures, giants petitioned the gods for help.
Einhasad and Gran Kain searched everywhere in the continent and finally found the lake in which Eva was hiding.
"Eva, look what happened because you avoided your responsibility. You are destroying the harmony of this continent that we created with all of our efforts. I will not tolerate it if you continue to disobey me." Einhasad was so enraged that her eyes burned bright with roaring flames.
Due to the floods, countless giants and living creatures departed to Shilen's world. This made Einhasad very envious of Shilen. Trembling with fear, Eva ended up surrendering to her mother. When Eva took over her authority to adjust the waters, the disasters gradually ceased. However, it was impossible to restore the continent that lay in ruins.

Episode 5: Challenge of the Giants

The giants began to harbor skepticism in their hearts. Gran Kain had already proved his own stupidity by making a lowly living creature called human. In addition, due to Gran Kain's lewd conduct and Einhasad's jealousy, The Underworld was created and various demons came into existence. Due to Eva's weakness and incompetence, the continent was badly out of shape. Seeds of doubt began to sprout in the minds of giants. Did such gods deserve their worship?
Giants could ride chariots made with their own hands and freely go in and out of the gods' palace. They could use magic to lift up an island and live in the air like gods. They could prolong their life span until it seemed like they would live forever. The giants began to think that their power was equal to that of the gods. In spite of their wisdom, they became excessively arrogant.
And thus the giants set out to become gods.
They began to experiment by modifying living organisms to create new forms of life. Giants called the magic to make such miracles possible 'science.'
Intoxicated by power, the giants organized a strong army to fight against the gods despite the failure of Shilen, the six dragons, and numerous demons in the same task.
The gods saw the preparations and were enraged. Einhasad, who claimed the sole right to create life, was speechless with fury. She swore to destroy all giants along with the continent and the entire world. Gran Kain pleaded with her to remain calm.
"Much as you are the Mother of Creation," he argued, "so is destruction my responsibility. You know too well what I had to go through when I coveted your task.
I will punish the giants for their arrogant conduct. Yet if you still want to destroy the entire world, I will fight you with everything I have." Gran Kain did not want to allow the destruction of the continent no matter what and Einhasad was greatly offended by Gran Kain's intervention. However, as they were of equal status, she could not stop him.
Einhasad compromised in the end. In order to punish the giants, she decided to borrow Gran Kain's hammer - known as the Hammer of Despair. Due to its great destructive power, even Gran Kain had never used the weapon. Yet in her fury, Einhasad lifted the hammer high above her head and brought it down in the center of the giants' city.

Episode 6: The End of Ages


Only when red flames rained from the heavens did the giants realize that they had committed a foolish error. They reached up with their combined strength to thwart Einhasad's angered delivery of the Hammer of Despair. Yet even with the giants' might, they merely altered the direction of the hammer slightly, and it still grazed the cities as it descended upon the world.
That was enough to destroy the world's greatest city; countless giants and other races were instantly crushed. A large hole was left in the earth and immense waves covered its surface. In the end, almost all the giants had perished.
Those giants who managed to live fled to the east to avoid Einhasad's anger. Their route paralleled that of Shilen in her earlier flight. Einhasad continued to hunt them down and burned the giants to death one by one with bolts of lightning. The remaining fugitive giants trembled in fear and prayed to Gran Kain.
"Gran Kain, Gran Kain! We have realized our erroneous ways. Only you can halt the rage and madness of Einhasad. Do not let us perish, we who have been born from the same place as yourself, we who are the wisest and strongest creatures in the land!"
Gran Kain suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of pity for these poor creatures and thought that the giants had suffered enough for their transgression. He lifted up the deepest waters of the southern seas and blocked Einhasad's path.
Einhasad shouted in anger, "'What is this?! Who dares to interfere with me?! Eva, my beloved daughter, rid the water that blocks my path this instant or be ready to follow in the footsteps of your elder sister!"
Eva feared Einhasad and immediately returned the waters to the sea. Einhasad continued to chase the giants, killing them one by one. The giants cried out to Gran Kain again.
"Gran Kain! The mightiest of the gods! Einhasad continues to chase us, determined to exterminate us! We pray to you, please have mercy and save us!"
Gran Kain lifted up the earth on which the giants stood. The great cliff hindered Einhasad's chase and she shouted in a loud voice.
"Maphr, my beloved daughter! Who dares to interfere with me?! Set the land down this instant. Or be ready to follow the path of your sister!"
Fearful at these words, Maphr tried to lower the earth, but Gran Kain stopped her.
"Einhasad, why do you not give up? The whole land knows your anger and trembles before your wrath. The wise but foolish giants feel their wrongdoing to their very core. See for yourself! The race of proud and noble creatures -- that at one time ruled the earth � are hiding on a narrow strip of land and shaking in fear as they seek to escape you! No longer can they challenge the gods. This place will eternally be the giants' prison. Calm your rage, your revenge is complete."
Einhasad continued to rage, but she could not act against Gran Kain's wishes -- he possessed strength equal to her own. She decided that, as Gran Kain had said, it would be better to leave the giants on that narrow, barren land to forever repent their sins rather than to kill them all. She ended her hunt and returned to her home.
Afterwards, Einhasad rarely interfered with happenings on Earth, as she had been deeply disappointed in the Earth's beings. Gran Kain also agreed not to show himself on Earth. The age of the gods was coming to an end.

Episode 7: A Return to the Campfire

The stranger paused in his story.
Enthralled by the tale, we had not moved while he related the history of our world. His voice, though soft, penetrated deep into our heads -- as if magical in nature. The myth he spoke of was completely different from that which we knew, yet none protested. We, the most seasoned warriors in all the lands, were drawn to the stranger and yet on-edge, nervous, even fearful of this mere man. When a nearby owl took flight, we flinched at the sudden flapping of wings.
The stranger chuckled, raised the smoldering pipe to his lips, and continued his story.
"Do not automatically cast aside my story because it is different from those you know of the gods. There is no proof that your priests are closer to the truth than a wandering poet. The history of the gods is the will of the gods, not that of humans. And thus, how would mere priests know the truth? Listen again as I continue. This is the story of the land after the gods' disappearance. It is your own history."

Episode 8: The Aftermath

The world fell into great turmoil following the sudden disappearance of the giants. Accustomed to the rule of the giants, the elves, dark elves, dwarves and humans were faced with the harsh reality of fending for themselves. On top of this frightening new change, the world in which they lived lay ravaged with the strike of the Hammer of Despair. Many died during the disasters wrought by Einhasad, and many more died in the ensuing confusion and chaos. The races of the earth pleaded fervently to the gods for salvation, but the gods did not answer.

First to take control of the situation were the elves, as they were the race responsible for politics during the time of the giants. The elves were successful in unifying the races and continued on with their lives. But as time passed, it became apparent that the elves did not have the same capabilities to rule that the giants had. The first to stand against the elves were the orcs.

"Are the elves stronger than we? No! Do the elves have the right to rule over us? No! We cannot bear that those who are weaker than we dare to stand above us!"

The military might of the orcs was powerful and, having lived only in peace, the elves were no match for the proud and fearless orcs. The majority of the land became orc territory in an instant and the elves were driven to a corner of the continent. There the elves sought aid from the dwarves who, with their great wealth and superior weapons, would stand a chance against the orcs.

"Race of the earth," the elves cried, "Come to our aid. The violent orc hordes persecute us with their sheer might. Come -- let us fight them together."

But the dwarves coldly refused to aid the elves. To their eyes, the world had turned in favor of the orcs. There was no reason for the pragmatic dwarves to side with the weak. The elves were enraged, but could not sway their decision.

The elves decided to seek help from the race of the wind - the arteias. Their reconnaissance skills and aerial attacks would be sufficient aid for the elves to triumph over the orcs. An elven delegation traveled to the ends of the earth to seek the help of the arteias.

"Race of the wind, come to our aid! The barbarian orcs are oppressing us with their sheer might. Let us join together and teach them their foolishness!"

But, as always, the arteias were not interested in the politics or wars of the earth. They determined to take neither side and hid themselves deeper in the inlands. The elves despaired.

"Alas, no one will aid us! Is this the end of our kind? Are the filthy orcs to take over the lands and claim every glory and wealth as their own?"


Episode 9: A New Alliance

Turned down by the pragmatic dwarves and neutral arteias, the elves were left with no allies to wage war against the orcs. Left to bemoan their fate, the elves were surprised by the appearance of a stranger among their ranks. The stranger knelt before the elven king, who peered closer to discover the stranger was a representative of the humans. The stranger wore a crown made of tree branches.

"What is it, leader of the lowly humans?" the elven king asked, "Do you come to mock our plight?"

The human bowed his head and spoke, "No, wise king. We come to see if our feeble forces may be of any assistance."

The elves rejoiced for though the humans were foolish and weak, their great numbers could be of help in battle.

"Very commendable of you, human king," the elven king acquiesced. "Insignificant beings you may be, but your devoted loyalty and willingness to sacrifice your lives for us is admirable. Go forth in battle to victory and you shall gain standing directly beneath the elves."

The human king bowed deep before the elven king, then lifted his head, facing his elven counterpart. "Most noble elven king," he spoke, "We humans have but one request to make before we battle for the glorious victory of the elven race. Our powers are too weak. Our teeth cannot even scratch the skin of the orcs and our nails are useless against their muscles. We beg of you, grant us the power to stand against them. Teach us the knowledge of your magic."

This bold proposition left the elves shocked and infuriated. Teach magic to humans? Never! They gestured, invoking the spells to turn the human to a heap of ashes, but the elven leader Veora interceded. She felt the request was no threat and should be honored. The humans were too weak and it would be doubtful that they could beat the orcs without help. And with their inferior minds, the humans would be no threat were they even able to learn magic. And thus she made a stand that would later cost her life.

The humans quickly absorbed the ways of magic, learning much faster than the elves had anticipated. The human bodies, though not as strong as those of orcs, had been strengthened through constant labor and infighting among their kind. They were adept with their hands and could skillfully wield weaponry and more than anything else, their numbers were huge and impressive. In a short amount of time, the human army became a formidable force.


Episode 10: An Ally Turns Foe

The human-elf alliance gradually began to overtake the orcs. As the tides of battle turned in favor of the alliance, the dwarves shifted allegiance from the orcs and began to craft battle supplies for the humans. With the stronger armor and sharp dwarven weapons, the humans could now defeat the orc army without the aid of elven forces.

The elves grew uneasy, even as the alliance victories grew in number. They could sense the humans growing stronger and beyond their control. Yet the elves did not allow their uneasiness to grow to concern, for they could not imagine that the lowliest of them all - the human trash - could conceive a revolution. And with final victory over the orcs within reach, the elves had no time to dwell on worries of the humans. The humans continued to learn higher forms of magic, and eventually the war ended with the victory of the human-elf alliance. The orcs were forced to sign a humiliating peace treaty and quickly retreated to the safety of their lairs in the northern parts of Elmore.

The leader of the orcs laughed as he departed, "Foolish elves. This victory is not yours, but that of the dirty humans. How do you propose to control these monsters of your creation?"

True to his bitter words, the elves now faced a new threat - the humans. But after the long battle, the elves were left too weary and weak to fight. In contrast, the humans with their new powers of magic, were strong. And thus, the humans rose up against the elves.

Too late, the elves realized they had taken under their wings the offspring of dragons. A fierce battle of magic versus magic once again shook the land. But the elves were too weak to suppress the forces of the humans. The elves were slowly pushed back until they were forced to retreat to the safety of their forest. From their secure position, they prepared for the final clash against the humans. Elven magic was strongest in these woods and they sought to use this advantage to victory.

The elves dug deep dungeons that quickly echoed with the clanging of swords and shouts of battle. But the ultimate victors in the three-month siege were the humans. Neither elven pride, nor the magical powers of the elven woods, nor even the superior magic of the elves could stand against the endless stream of human armies. The elves suffered great damage and eventually escaped deep into the forest. In retreat, they cast strong barriers around their woods to prevent the trespassing of humans and other races.

And thus, humans became the conquerors of all the land.


Episode 11: A Return to the Campfire

The stranger looked up, his latest story completed.

The tale was different from any we had heard, yet strangely familiar. The beautiful elven maiden in our company sat quiet, tears brimming in her eyes.

The night had deepened as the stranger spoke and now the cries of wild creatures were nowhere to be heard. The wind had ceased to rustle the tree branches overhead, and even the water flowing in the nearby stream seemed muted and soft. Only the sound of our breathing and the crackling of the burning campfire rang out through the night. It seemed as if all nature around us held its breath to listen close to the story told by the campfire.

We leaned in close as the stranger, clearing his throat with a low rumbling cough, began again.

"So. Is it not ironic that the lowest creatures of all, the humans, ultimately attained ownership of the land? But that is the result of human will. Even the gods did not imagine that humans would ever become rulers of the earth.

"Now, I will tell you the tale of the most brilliant human kingdom that ever existed. This is the story of the humans who walked the same path as the giants."


Episode 12: History Rewritten

During the long battles against the orcs and elves, the humans began to form primitive kingdoms among their numbers. The central group was composed of the Athena clan and humans skilled in magic. They protected their numbers with their power, kept order through threats, and occasionally became involved in small and large battles.

Order was resolved quickly when the Athena leader, Shuniman, united the regions currently known as Aden and Elmore. He called his kingdom Elmoreden and enthroned himself as emperor. The tree branch crown adorning the brow of his ancestors became a gold crown with glittering jewels to set upon his brow. He became known as a presence nearly equal to the gods in the lore of his followers.

Emperor Shuniman worried over the life limitation of the humans. The fact that Gran Kain, god of death and destruction, was their creator gave the humans an inferiority complex. Additionally, the tales that they were created from the leftovers of other races was deeply humiliating to these new rulers of the land. For their new kingdom, they needed a new myth; a new history that would prove them noble beings.

Eventually, and through large-scale religious reform, Shuniman made Einhasad the goddess of humans instead of Gran Kain. Myth and history were changed and those practicing black magic, as well as the followers of Gran Kain, were persecuted. The religious reform continued for generations and eventually all humans believed that Einhasad, the goddess of good, was their creator and Gran Kain was simply the god of evil. When learning of this, Gran Kain laughed in acceptance.

"Even if they do not serve me, I will not be angered. But foolish humans, no matter how you try to cover the sky with your hands -- is the sky truly smaller than your grasp?"


Episode 13: Elmoreden and Perios

While Emperor Shuniman and the Elmoreden kingdom grew and prospered, the Gracia region across the sea still rumbled with turmoil. The geography of Gracia was varied and dangerous and while many human groups battled for control, no strong power had emerged to unify the government. Small kingdoms dotted the landscape, claiming parcels of land as their own and conducting minor skirmishes and greater battles as they struggled for dominance.


The day came when Elmoreden's strong army invaded the land through the western sea bridge and the kingdoms of Gracia were forced to ally in their own defense. Much of the land's royalty and aristocracy were slain in the process. The surviving aristocracy grew in power. In the end, the Elmoreden invasion was repelled, yet it served to create a foundation for a unified kingdom of Gracia. This kingdom was named Perios.

Thereafter, Perios and Elmoreden became locked in an ongoing struggle for domination. Elmoreden, which had first established a unified kingdom and possessed great military power, was far superior. But Perios had advantages of its own. First, the sea separating the kingdoms limited Elmoreden's pathways to attack. Also of great importance, the people of Perios possessed powerful relics left behind by the giants that could be used to their military advantage.

Even with their overwhelming might, in the end the military of the Elmoreden kingdom could not conquer Perios.


Episode 14: Beleth and the Ivory Tower

The kingdom of Elmoreden was home to the Ivory Tower, an institution for learning magic. The mages working within the Ivory Tower labored to recover, study, and improve upon the magic of the ancient giants. The magical prowess of the tower's scholars was great, and at one time their influence in the kingdom was near that of the Elmoreden emperor.

Among those from the Ivory Tower was Beleth, the strongest mage of all and one of the greatest geniuses to ever walk the earth. He became obsessed with the magic of the giants and managed to acquire nearly all of their strengths. But the power of the giants was a cursed power unfit for humans, and having attained it, Beleth's ambition and thirst for control grew rampant. Alarmed, the kingdom and the mages of the Ivory Tower combined forces to rid themselves of Beleth. But Beleth held extreme strength and power in the dark arts.

Finally, the Ivory Tower magicians used forbidden black magic to succeed in suppressing Beleth's powers just enough to trap and seal him in the dungeons below the tower. Yet despite the knights and magician's guarding the seal, Beleth succeeded in breaking the seal and escaping. He fled to Hellbound Island to recover his strength and continue in his ambition to conquer the land.

The black magic cast to trap Beleth had another lasting effect. The southern portions of the region now known as Gludio were laid waste by the black magic, and many humans were killed when the spells were cast. The kingdom blamed this on Beleth and spread the word that Beleth was a devil among men.


Episode 15: Elven Discord

A great change occurred in the Elven woods around this time. Having lost control of the continent to the Humans, the Elves gradually lost their confidence. They all but forgot their ambition to rule the land and became content with their peaceful lives in the woods.

There was a group known as Brown Elves who were dissatisfied with the complacency of the Elves. Possessed of a strong ambitious streak, they insisted that battle with the Humans must continue - even if it meant the use of banned black magic. However, this stance met with violent opposition from the other Elves.

During this time, a Human magician appeared among the Brown Elves and, approaching their leader, spoke.

"King of the Brown Elves - you desire power. But the weak Tree Elves and their supporters fear you attaining the great power you deserve. They only worry about whether you will attack them or bring on even greater plague by provoking the Humans. It is those weak thoughts that have created the current weakness in the Elven race."

The Brown Elven leader responded warily, "Who are you, Human magician? What goal do you have to fool us?"

"My name is Dasparion and I am a mere magician. But I possess the strength that you desire. I can help you acquire your ambitions in return you must give to me that which I desire."

"That which you desire? And what may that be?"

"Your youth. The secret to eternal life." A slight smile touched the corners of Dasparion's mouth. "Though I may be skilled in magic, I am still Human and my lifespan is not even one hundred years. So, King of the Brown Elves, what is your decision? We can help each other attain what we desire."

Seduced by the powers of the black magic that Dasparion possessed, the Brown Elves accepted his proposition and learned the dark arts under his tutelage. Dasparion in turn acquired the knowledge of immortality and left the woods satisfied.

Learning of these events, the Elves banished the Brown Elves, who had abandoned Einhasad and came to follow Gran Kain. A battle ensued among all Elves. The Brown Elves, acting on a plot of Dasparion's, used a deadly spell to annihilate the Tree Elves. But the Tree Elves, with their dying breath, laid a curse upon the Brown Elves. The curse rotted the woods of the Brown Elves and they became a race of darkness. Thereafter, Brown Elves were known as Dark Elves.


Episode 16: The End of a Golden Age

The golden age of Elmoreden came about a thousand years after its establishment, during the reign of Emperor Baium. With great charisma and leadership skills, Baium created the strongest army in the history of the kingdom. This army drove the orcs, who had considerable influence in the northern parts of Elmore, into the black woods, known later as the Orc Kingdom. In addition, Baium's army led repeated attacks against the kingdom of Perios, and eventually occupied the southern parts of Gracia.

In his later years, Baium lost interest in conquests and used his kingdom's forces to begin construction of an elaborate tower rising into the clouds.

"My name inspires fear in every corner of the continent. Tens of thousands of lives can be lost or saved by the movement of my hand. My power is absolute. That I can only have this power for a few decades, I cannot bear! No -- I shall obtain everlasting life from the gods and rule my kingdom forever!"

The magnificent tower of Baium's design took thirty years to construct. He intended to use the tower to climb to the residence of the gods and obtain the secret of everlasting life. When he climbed the tower, the gods objected to his plans and gave him this response:

"Child of lowly humans, and a lowly human yourself: You dare to soil our abode for your own everlasting life? Have you learned nothing from the lesson of the giants? Very well, if eternal life is what you desire, we shall grant you your request. But you shall never leave your tower."

Having brought the fury of the gods upon himself, Baium was trapped for all eternity at the top of his tower. After the sudden disappearance of the emperor, a fierce competition broke out among members of the royal family as each vied for ascension to the throne. Numerous aristocrats also seized the opportunity to stake their claim to the throne, leaving the entire kingdom of Elmoreden enmeshed in internal conflict. The costs and labor requirements for construction of the tower had already weakened the kingdom. The added conflict and backbiting over the vacant throne was the last straw. The resplendent kingdom of Elmoreden, powerful on the continent for more than a thousand years fell into rapid decline. Within a mere twenty years, the kingdom was in shambles.


Episode 17: A Return to the Campfire

The story, traded for a meal and a warm fire, continued to unfold in an unpleasant direction. We did not know the identity of this stranger, nor did we know why he was telling us these tales. Yet we listened, a captive audience, unable to look away or move as if an unseen force kept us pinned to our seats.

The man acted as if we were not even there. He gathered dry twigs and tinder from around his feet and tossed them into the dying fire. The flames, which had nearly died out, blazed up with a renewed vigor. The man did not even glance in our direction as he began to speak again.

"My tale is now nearly at an end. The story which I am about to tell is a familiar one - that of the power struggle of the Humans which continues to this very day. This is the story of the continent after the fall of Elmoreden."


Episode 18: Battle for the Continent

While the demise of Elmoreden worked to slow the fall of the Perios kingdom, nothing could stop the oncoming plagues from the Gracia regions to the south, nor the devastating cold that swept through from the north. Like Elmoreden before her, Perios disappeared into the dusty tomes of history.

After the fall of these once-great kingdoms, the land was embroiled in a horrific turmoil, and the dark times evoked memories of the aftermath of the Great Plague. The Human aristocracy fought amongst each other for supremacy and some even granted lands to non-humans in exchange for military might. The Orcs seized this opportunity and gaining a foothold, brought their strength to bear. Reorganizing their armies, the Orcs once again waged their campaign to dominate the continent. Their armies were mighty and they soon occupied the northern parts of Elmore, but fighting between the noble orcs and the lowly orcs weakened their power.

Amidst the conflicts, the Elves could do nothing but fight for their own lives in the endless battle against their Dark brethren. And the Dwarves were no match for the rampaging Orcish army and were easily pushed aside.

In this time, a dominant Human faction emerged, known as the Elmore kingdom. Their claim to be direct descendents of the Elmoreden emperor, whether truth or myth, was widely accepted, for they had the truth of strength and the truth of steel behind their words. The Elmore army clashed with the Orcish army over many terrific battles. The war waged on for many years, costing each side heavily. The armies were evenly matched, for although the Humans outnumbered their enemy, the sheer strength of the mighty Orcish army made for a formidable foe. In the end, however, badly defeated, the Orcs were again driven back to their own lands to bide their time and plot their vengeance. As for the Dwarves, what few remained were banished from the Human continent into the depths of the Spine Mountains.

With its now diminished military force, the Elmore army finally gained control of all the northern lands and marched south in the quest to reunite the continent under the Elmore flag. But unification of the divided continent was not to be. The Oren, the most powerful of the southern kingdoms, fended off the invading army with their strong magicians and well-trained soldiers, and the Elmore could not match the ferocity of an army out to defend its land.

The various southern kingdoms prospered under the protection of Oren and together began to take the form of a nation. These kingdoms maintained balance amongst themselves, and grew strong and prosperous.


Episode 19: The Rise of Two Kingdoms

The many wars lasted through numerous generations, and out of the chaos, Gracia became the first to thread together the strands of unity. A man called Paris, with his military prowess and tremendous strength brought glory to his people, winning many battles and claiming lands in the name of Beheim.

Paris achieved legendary status when he and his army faced off against the vicious highlanders of Quaser. In a desperate fight against Tor, Quaser's mightiest warrior, Paris struck a decisive wound. Having never before lost a fight, legend has it that the wounded Tor uttered,

"Can you really be Human? Such strength, such speed!"

Standing before his enemy, Paris looked out over the battlefield and replied,

"I desire that much to unify this land... Brave warrior of the North, pledge me your loyalty, and together we shall conquer all who oppose us."

Thus Paris led the White Hawk knights, the Wind knights, and now the newly allied highlanders across the lands of Gracia and achieved many military victories. The lands of Beheim swelled to more than five times its original borders and as for Paris, he staged an uprising against the royalty and ascended the throne.

Meanwhile, the southern lands were also bursting with activity and many were concerned with news of the turbulent tidings from Gracia and Elmore. A charismatic leader named Raoul appeared, and led his own campaign to amass a personal force under his flag. A fiery speaker, Raoul defeated those who opposed him not with weapons but with words. One of his speeches usually went like this:

"Lords of the land! Do you not see what is happening beyond our borders? Formidable enemies march down on us as we speak! The kingdom of Elmore has long sought our wealth and our lands and is only waiting for the right time to strike. If the Gracia region across the sea should also decide to move, we will be overrun! There is no other option than to join our armies together under one flag and to prepare for war."

Raoul used persuasion to steadily tie the southern lands together. But the perceived threat of the Elmore kingdom was not as great as it appeared, as they were too busy dealing with the mass uprising of the orcs to focus any attention on Aden.

Nonetheless, Raoul first combined forces with his loyal ally Inadril, and together these lands established the kingdom of Aden. Unlike Paris, Raoul waged a bloodless campaign and he easily progressed West to acquire Kiran and Dion.

It was in Oren that Raoul first met upon resistance to his plan. Oren claimed itself to be the leader of the southern lands and did not accept any leader other than their own. Eventually, the two kingdoms came to blows, but the Aden kingdom maneuvered a remarkable victory. The Gludio kingdom, witnesses to the might of the Aden army, voluntarily chose to ally itself with Aden, completing Aden's unification. Thereafter, Raoul became known as the Unification King.


Episode 20: The Heirs to the Land

Soon after the unification of Aden, Gracia solidified its own lands when the last remaining opposition, the Hwuh, fell into the hands of Paris. Paris moved the capital to Arpenino and reorganized his kingdom's structure.
Newly powerful Aden proved themselves a force to be reckoned with in their successful defense against Elmore's advance. However, a new page was turned in Aden's history when tragedy struck Aden with the sudden death of Raoul. Sensing the moment to strike, Elmore repeatedly invaded into the northern lands of Aden. Raoul's successor, Trabis was able to fend off the invaders, but he soon passed away from a mysterious illness. The next in line for the throne was a sixteen-year-old boy named Amadeo.
Upon hearing the news, Paris exclaimed, "The heavens are aiding our Gracia kingdom! A sixteen-year-old king? That will be the downfall of the Aden kingdom!"
But Paris gravely underestimated the young Amadeo. The boy king succeeded in brilliantly defending a large-scale Elmore attack and Paris sensed his opportunity to conquer Aden was slipping away. Ignoring the advice of all, including his trusted right hand man Dillios, Paris launched a massive attack on Aden by land and sea.
The results were disastrous.
Asteir, the ousted king of Elmore, had joined forces with Aden, his father's long time enemy.
"Have you no shame? You should fall on your own sword for standing at the side of your father's enemy!" shouted Paris in anger.
Asteir brushed off the comment and replied, "The cub can be taken care of later, but for now you are my main prey."
The battle of Kiran proved to be the turning point in the war, and the Gracian troops, beaten and demoralized, retreated to their own lands. The failure of the Aden invasion left a deep wound in Paris's pride, for he had never known defeat. Eventually, Paris became ill and died soon after.
The Gracian heir was a frail man named Carnaria, whom many deemed unfit to rule the kingdom. In opposition, Cucarus challenged Carnaria's claim to the throne. Backed by Paris's once-trusted advisor Dillios, Cucarus gained popularity with the Gracian people, and he and Carnaria split the kingdom into two factions. North and South Gracia became bitter enemies and their struggle would consume all their energies.
This was the best news for Amadeo, and he used the break in fighting to strengthen the Aden kingdom. Through his efforts, Aden, Elmore and Gracia entered into a peace treaty and an uneasy age of peace came to pass.


Episode 21: Epilogue

When the man had finished his story, light had begun to creep into the dark sky. The long night had passed and dawn was coming. Nothing remained of the fire but smoldering ash. The storyteller lit his pipe once again, and took a contemplative puff.
"So my story comes to an end for now. As time passes, maybe the story will continue? Who knows, perhaps someday your names will be in my story?"
The morning sunlight came creeping forth and I could sense an urgency; that a significant event was passing me by. It took an effort to find my voice, and I dared to ask, "who are you? Why do you tell us these stories and, and how do you know them all?"
The man wordlessly rose to his feet. As he stood up, he was growing in size! He seemed a normal man while sitting, but now he was a giant, almost twenty feet tall - casting a shadow over the entire party. His features remained indistinguishable beneath his hooded cloak. Then slowly, subtly, he began to disappear! I can only describe it now as a withering away at the edges, and then suddenly in a gust of wind, he was gone like so much dust.
He did not tell us anything at the time, but now I think I know who he was. Disguising himself to tell histories to the races of the world was exactly the sort of act that would appeal to one who had existed since the beginning of the world. Perhaps even to the one who had created humankind?

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CHRONICLES I : HARBINGERS OF WAR
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Prelude

� We remember that year � which was just a few years before the start of a new century � as being the first of the era of chaos. Although that year was no different than any other in recorded history, the �prelude� to the disaster that was to come was already before us. We could not have been prepared, even had we known what to expect�

In Aden, the kingdom of Humans, the priests of the god of light gathered at the great Temple of Oren. All of them said they had already dreamt the nightmare that foresaw the ominous future. Some of them said it was revelation of the gods, others that it was the delusion of the evil spirits, but everyone was united in their feelings of insecurity. In an effort to deal with that lack of confidence, the morose gathering decided to recover the trust between the races that had been cast aside for so long and dispatched an envoy to the leader of each of the races.

In the forest of the Elves that shimmered with an emerald light, it is difficult to imagine how severe the shock, when the Elves that the World Tree � the mother of all the forest, had started to die. This beautiful forest race gathered up the curtains along the boundary that had hidden them for so long and sent many of their young to the kingdom of Humans to find a way to save the World Tree.

Although it was revealed too late, there is no doubt that at least some of the Dark Elves already knew the truth that could only be told under one�s breath until now � which was the secret surrounding their goddess. As soon as the Human priests gathered at Oren Castle, their countenances revealed that they had already received the Revelation that prophesied the �dark fate that was to come�.

The Orcs that know no fear were no less troubled about the winter that was to come, not knowing whether spring would follow. Paagrio, Lord Kakai of the Orcs sent his envoys to unify the Orcs, who had separated into various factions in preparation for the �eternal winter�.

It is uncertain what the Dwarves were doing at that time. There are those that say they would have just pressed on with their business without knowing anything of the situation. But that would only profane the business acumen of the Dwarves. This is just a guess, but that tribe of the land, so eager to possess the forgotten knowledge of the titans, excavated the �Maphr Table� that had hidden the traces of civilization for thousands of years, and were believed to discern the beginnings of absolute geometry.

Now in the year of the �prelude� that no one would name, the brave men of each race joined forces. Although hostile to one another, they fought harder still in opposition to the despair that was to come. These heroes achieved many small victories in succession, even as they bowed to a foreboding of the dark fate that awaited them.

Hindemith, writer of Dasparion (student of Hardin),
Year of Empire 1640

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Chapter I: Harbingers of War - The Battle for Giran
Due to Cardinal Seresin's efforts, the seeds of trust seem to have finally taken root - if only for a little while. The ominous feeling of an approaching crisis was shared by all of the races. The infernos of war that consume the entire land was sparked in a place that no one could have expected - neither the border regions nor the cold northern areas where the monsters roam, but deep in the realm of humankind.
History is the most severe teacher of stubborn lessons oft repeated. Humans seem to need enemies like the air they breathe. If they can find no likely adversaries, they will begin to agitate those around them. Ever since I learned of the disaster at Giran Castle, the words of my only teacher follow me, taunting with his perverse sense of wisdom: Since humans are made of the refuse of the gods, they are naturally dirty...
After the Elven ambassador passed through Aden's splendid castle gates, Duke Lewin Waldner, who had maintained control of Gludio, was driven out of the territory. The new lord was but an adventurer of unknown roots. In Dion, Duke Ashton was forced to relinquish his throne to rebels, fleeing to Aden. Blocked by the Ol Mahum mercenaries, King Amadeo's soldiers were unable to come to the Duke's defense. The rules of siege are cruel - a rebel leader who captures the castle becomes the lawful ruler for the entire territory. The king can only confirm the outcome. Humans would do well to take heed - even rebellions beyond the outer reaches of a territory may cause the kingdom to promptly collapse. Fate was already stepping toward chaos - an important battle was occurring in the richest part of the kingdom, marking a vital turning point in the events unfolding.
Many suspicious matters attend the battle for Giran Castle. With neighboring lords so abruptly replaced, how could Baron Carmon Esthus needlessly expend his forces in an excursion to conquer Antharas? Where did those who survived the attack afterwards roam? Where was the Baron himself and why did he entrust his castle to Leona Blackbird, whose importance is yet unknown?
Why do those on the battlefield blithely revel in the fact that things have always been this way? The answers are as apparent to Jighart Ein, a mercenary who traveled from Elmore to fight in the siege, as they are to the young princess who struggles to defend the castle at the Baron's request. For both of them and many others alike, the reasons are Harbingers of War.
- Student of Hardin and Writer of Desperion, Hindemith, Order of the Empire, 1640



Chapter II: Harbingers of War - Erika (1)
Military Encampment Preparing to Besiege Giran Castle
Innadril Lake borders Giran and Innadril. A huge wasteland stretches north to Death Pass. A river of tears flows south to Innadril Lake. On a hill above the northwestern shore stands the castle with a view of the lake in all directions.
It was a hot summer day when the sun cut through skin like an arrow. The moat surrounding the castle shone brightly, yet dark mountain clouds in the north foretold of heavy rains soon to come. Crows cawed nearby and both armies braced like blades in battle, waiting for the steadily approaching moment of conflict.
Graham was but an old man wearing expensive clothes, representing the castle lord like a merchant visiting a palace. Upon arriving at the tent, Sir Graham adjusted his cloak and complained of the severe western wind.
In contrast, Erika Ken Weber tied her hair together to fly in the wind. Her disquiet before the battle was exacerbated by the grumblings of Sir Graham. The clan flags around the encampment roared like fierce campfires in the wind. To the side, mercenaries handled a cache of supplies, dispersing arrows.
"Thanks to the lord's goodwill and ample investment, we'll not face material shortages. If only other things were as adequately handled by you mercenaries� Or those second-class fighters."
Graham blew his nose, directing his unpleasant gaze over the encampment. Another clan promised to this siege quietly prepared for battle. A group of thirty Dark Elves equipped with thin, polished swords and mithril armor were arrayed beneath a black flag bearing a red wolf crest. At the forefront, a silver-haired Dark Elf female commanded the group.
"You need not worry. They are the mercenaries of the Red Wolf Brotherhood. It is said not long ago they overwhelmed a group of griffon knights of high standing in clan battle."
"Oh... That is amazing," Graham retorted with an unseemly gaze.
"It is also said they have neither pride nor compassion, but an evil reputation for becoming annoyed and abandoning those who employ them. Not long ago, someone from a commercial guild attempted to hire them, but found his tongue cut out. He must have said something wrong."
The Dark Elven female directed her gaze at Erika as if noticing her glance. With a deliberate movement, Erika placed right hand to left breast, bowing in acknowledgement. Sir Graham turned his head quickly.
"Enough of the inspection - we shall return to Sir Jighart."
"If that is your wish, my lord�"
Before she could finish her response, she was already looking at Graham's back as he rushed to the head mercenary's camp. Erika smiled.
Of the various Dwarven guilds, the Black Anvil was famous for concocting and employing particularly strange mechanical devices. The Black Anvil was rumored to have participated in the great tragedy that occurred in Dion Territory, when the Core of Cruma Tower was resurrected.
"Alright, whatever you want. I have nothing to say about that otherwise."
Jighart raised both of his hands and the three Dwarves in attendance raised the flats of their hands as well. On the back of their hands was a black tattoo inscribed in the shape of an anvil. They moved their short legs as they talked and Jighart shook his head from time to time as the Dwarves explained something. Finally, the leader of the Dwarves shook hands with Jighart and the Dwarves departed just as noisily. Erika coughed dryly and spoke carefully in a somewhat loud voice.
"We're ahead of schedule but Sir Graham feels that the inspection is finished, general."
Jighart looked surprised but Graham nodded his head in affirmation.
"I have seen enough of the dignified appearance of the troops of Sir Jighart. I look forward to the results of the battle. But..."
Graham paused and looked toward Erika. Erika nodded her head softly. "I will step out for a moment."
"No," said Jighart, "It is alright. She is a trusted servant."
"In that case..." Graham opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated again.
"How is it that you can trust dwarves?" A smile spread slowly on the face of Jighart.
"I have not depended on Dwarves like this before, but it would be an offense not to accept them, considering the sincerity they have always shown me."
Seeming satisfied, Graham departed without another word, leaving Jighart and Erika to themselves.
"I did not mind going outside, general. But I was thankful you said I was a trustworthy servant."
"We will have to speak of all sorts of things during the fighting, but it is more trouble to have to explain everything again later." Jighart then added, as if he had thought of something suddenly. "Things are well ahead of schedule. I think you have done a thorough job accounting for even the last potato in supplies."
Erika touched her hair softly in a show of modesty.
She wanted to ask about the Dwarves but decided against it, as Jighart would tell her soon enough. He always devised his strategies alone and gave instructions to his underlings about only what needed to be done. She had been surprised many times before, but had lately grown accustomed to his unexpected commands.
The Dark Elven woman that led the red wolves was waiting for the two when they emerged from the camp. She approached Jighart and put out her hand. After pressing his lips softly to her sekaman skin gloved hand, Jighart spoke a few words of greeting. It was in the Dark Elven language, with which Erika was unfamiliar. The woman smiled unnaturally but did not speak, returning to the encampment where the races were gathered. She seemed to like Jighart.
The defending mercenaries were deployed on the castle walls. As she covered her eyes from the sun with her hand, Erika inspected them carefully. She could see many Elves that had light, soft physiques and pearl-colored skin, which the Ruhn women envied. Some mystics in pure white robes also stood nearby, holding their staffs in hand.
"There are twenty or more archers above us. We must be prepared for many casualties when we attack the castle gates."
"Not to worry, Erika," Graham spoke with a confident voice. "That is the extent of their forces. You can be certain they have handled little more than farming tools before. Their bows cannot hide their numerical weakness."
Without speaking, Jighart looked over the forces arrayed on the castle wall and allowed a smile to cross his face.
"Leona... She is not bad."
Erika had heard that name only recently. When she heard that responsibility for the defense of the territory had been entrusted to a girl of not even twenty years by the lord of Giran, she laughed in sheer disbelief.
Although Leona Blackbird had commanded forces successfully in many other clashes, Jighart and Erika had defeated rivals much more formidable than her. However, they were troubled by a rumor that Leona received divine protection from the Fire Dragon Valakas.
Erika forced all such rumors from her mind. Perhaps she knew the stories too well. Regardless, her general who stood before her could kill an opponent while laughing. She did not know what he was thinking; only that he would win. She would entrust the fight to him and concern herself with the work of which she was given charge.
Suddenly, the restless soldiers become startled. Several pointed toward the castle walls with expressions of disbelief. With a high-pitched screech, the castle walls opened and an Elf emerged, wearing Elven chain mail over his porcelain skin. Standing in platinum boots and wearing a long sword on his waist, he raised his empty right hand in a peaceful gesture.
"It seems as if he has come to surrender."
The Elf crossed the bridge over the moat and headed towards the place where Jighart and Erika were standing, approaching carefully with nimble steps. He bowed courteously to Jighart, as he was the leader of the attacking side. Jighart nodded, but the Elf stood straight and spoke in an elegant voice.
"This is a message from Leona Blackbird, who as representative of the lord is in charge of the defense of Giran Castle."
The Elf pulled a scroll from his waist and unrolled it with both hands.
"Brave commanders and soldiers. I wish from my heart to praise your orderliness and dignity. As the defender of Giran Castle, I beseech you, please put your weapons away and go back to where you came. The owner of this castle was decided long ago and there is no reason for this to change. Whatever you want, it is not something you can obtain through military might. This declaration is also a warning: If you insist on your reckless attack, you will certainly suffer a cruel fate. On behalf of Leona Blackbird, commander for the defense of Giran Castle. Nothing more!"
The distorted face of Graham contrasted with the refreshing laugh on the face of Jighart.
The Elf who finished reading aloud had no expression. Like all the other tribes of the forest that Erika knew, this Elf had a face with which one could not judge his mind in the slightest. As if waiting for Jighart's reply, he just stood there without blinking an eye. Jighart prepared his voice and then yelled loudly.
"Go and tell that young woman who you regard as your leader that I will cause little trouble if she will kindly hand over the castle! That is all!"
Laughter could be heard throughout the attacking camp at Jighart's thundering cry. However, the Elf replied without hesitation or even a hint of agitation.
"I will convey that you have rejected the request of Lady Leona. I will go."
The Elf returned quickly toward the castle gate, showing his undefended back.
Erika came to Jighart's side.
"If you were trying to make them angry, would it not have been better to cut his throat before sending him back?"
"What anger? This is all just the formality of siege battle."
"Is that so? Is there a principle that must be followed even with this Leona girl?"
Jighart nodded his head.
"It is a rule. Everything must take place according to the will of the castle. They will protect the castle. We will invade. We express our intentions and decide on the date and time. Those who break the rules can never be recognized by the castle."
"But doesn't that make things more advantageous for the defending side?"
Erika hesitated, but Jighart laughed knowingly. No matter how she looked at the possible outcomes of today's battle, she could not discern any reason that they would lose. Erika sighed and stretched out her shoulders.
Suddenly, a damp wind blew in from the northern mountains.





















Chapter III: Harbingers of War - Leona (1)
Leona looked down from atop the parapet of Giran Castle, watching Vellion's return from the attacker's camp. The Elven knight soon arrived and stated formally, "The leader of the enemy forces rejected Leona's request."
She let out a short sigh at the confirmation of what she already knew. Vellion's face looked a bit distraught and Leona wondered if he had also received some insulting words from the enemy. She looked out at the enemy camp sprawled outside the castle.
"So, we will have to fight. Thank you for your efforts, Vellion"
The Elven knight courteously bowed his head in response.
"As discussed earlier this morning, Vellion, I want you to direct the foot soldiers. If the enemy breaks through the castle gates, you must prevent them from reaching the inner castle. Baron Esthus entrusted the defense of this castle to me and I would like to prevent the enemy from ever reaching the inner keep."
"I will do my best. All else is in the hands of the gods."
"May the blessings of the stars be with you always."
The Elf descended the stairs gracefully and disappeared from view. Leona sighed again, much deeper than before.
Less than half the defensive forces remained in the castle. Even Cardia de Hestui and others on whom Leona could always rely were outside the castle. The enemies had suddenly appeared when least expected. Could spies have infiltrated the castle walls? Were that the case, could she trust anyone?
For a moment, her suspicions ran loose and all sorts of doubts began seeping into her consciousness. This girl, who was thrown into the role as lord of the castle, tried to shake the thoughts tormenting her.
Anger surrounded her entire body like a mist enveloping a lake. Her knuckles turned white as she grasped the stone railing of the parapet.
"I stand ready to assist in the castle defense, Lady Leona."
The declaration from behind her came from an Elf whose voice she had not heard for a long time. Turning around, she realized he was wearing the green ceremonial dress permitted only to the high priests of Eva.
"Ah, Ellik! You have arrived!"
"I am sorry, but we were greatly delayed in Dion."
"Do not apologize. You know of our... situation?"
Ellik nodded. "I met Dubian upon my arrival."
The two comrades walked slowly through the castle.
"As you know, this layout is very similar to that of Gludio Castle. The fiercest battle in that siege took place at the entrance to the inner castle. That was the weakest link in the chain of the castle's defenses."
"I regret the disappearance of Duke Waldner. He was a good man. Is he still missing?"
The silence of the Elven priest revealed what he would rather not say.
Her voice became somewhat severe. "The castle gates cannot be defended." Leona tried very hard to fight back the tears suddenly welling up inside of her. "Is there anything we can do?"
"It would be good to gain some time at the castle gates and thin out their ranks from the protection of our castle walls. As soon as the enemy breaks through, we must be prepared to withdraw our forces to the entrance of the inner castle."
"Those are my thoughts as well. We really have no other choice."
Ellik nodded his affirmation.
Leona returned to the castle walls. Looking across the battlefield, her gaze came to rest on a flag with the head of a golden sheep emblazoned on a black background. She carried her thoughts like heavy burdens. "That is where the enemy leader waits."
"I suppose those thoughts are also shared by our counterparts."
"Their actions are those no ordinary leader would dare, or common adviser would recommend. Ellik, this unreasonable war is a dangerous force that looms before our eyes. We must find some way to prevail."
Ellik regarded Leona for a moment - this human girl whose age was not even one tenth his own.
"I follow your charge, Leona."
She resolutely returned to the ranks of soldiers and assigned combat positions to the archers and mystics. Later, as she was giving final strategic instructions to the foot soldiers in the castle's inner court, Ellik brought a female Elf to meet her. During the introduction, Leona noticed she had long golden hair and fine features. On her neck was an amulet of Eva, the goddess of the lake.
Many of the young foot soldiers found themselves staring, as this was the first time actually seeing an Elven woman in the flesh. "Would that you were half as attentive to my instructions," Leona quipped wryly. The soldiers all lowered their gazes, suddenly embarrassed. Leona smiled as she motioned the Elves to follow her in order to make their introductions elsewhere.
"This is Luellin, the oracle of my command." Leona could see she was an elder of very high position in Elven society. She bowed her head to greet the Oracle, hoping to hide how nervous she was.
"During the battle, she will shield you with her protection and healing magic."
Leona extended her hand. "With our meager resources, the archers and foot soldiers would benefit more from such protection. Please assign this person to Vellion's inner castle defense. Receiving such unwarranted consideration does not seem right to me."
Ellik's reply was polite but firm. "You are our leader. We take the necessary measures to safeguard you from injury. To not do so would threaten the safety of us all."
Realizing he had spoken too loudly, he quickly glanced toward the foot soldiers, who were too busy appearing disinterested to meet his gaze. He spoke again in a lower tone.
"When the siege starts, this will become a scene of mass confusion. Frankly, I abhor this kind of battle. Young and old alike, whose lives have already faced so many hardships, will be destroyed in an instant. Throughout all of these uncertainties, one thing is absolute: Your life must not be sacrificed."
Reluctantly, Leona nodded her head without speaking.
A horn blared in the distance. Its low, wailing resonance alerted everyone in Giran Castle to prepare for battle or run before the ensuing chaos. The steady reverberations inspired the forces on both sides with renewed purpose.
Many of them would soon join the rows of forgotten headstones in some unkempt cemetery.
Archers on the parapet set arrows to bows, aimed for the masses and pulled back with all their strength. Blue energy from soulshots commingled with spells recited by the mystics until a golden energy coursed through the bodies of the archers.
Units of attacking soldiers arrayed in groups of thirty, awaiting the signal. Finally, the commanders in the field raised their swords and the soldiers began marching toward the castle in an arrhythmic crescendo of footsteps sparsely punctuated with cries of war.
Hundreds of arrows sliced through the sky in a cruel rainbow.
The battle had begun.







































Chapter IV: Harbingers of War - Erika (2)
Military Camp in Front of Giran Castle
As expected, the first to reach the castle gates was the Red Wolf Brotherhood. The warriors intended to tear down the gates quickly, but when they crossed the bridge, Elven foot soldiers suddenly emerged from hidden side passages and blocked any possibility of retreat.
The defending foot soldiers wore light armor, making the greatest use of their dexterity. The Elven knight, who had entered Jighart's camp alone to convey the declaration, was their commander. Rather than clash directly with the Dark Elves, they moved skillfully to prevent them from retreating. As a result, the Red Wolves were battered by arrows pouring over the castle walls and they fell one on top of another. Had Jighart sent the supporting troops any later, the Red Wolves would have been wiped out completely.
Seeing the first attackers so cruelly decimated, the morale of the other soldiers quickly fell. The weather seemed to change in accordance with events on the ground. Gathering clouds billowed by northern winds blocked the sun, coloring the sky in hues of flaming ash.
As these events unfolded, Erika contemplated Jighart's expression. His face looked like he had bitten into something extremely bitter.
She could not contain her surprised disappointment. "This is not at all what I was expecting!"
Still silent, Jighart seemed to be deciphering some unfathomable code in his head. Erika decided to observe the events without saying anything more.
Graham, who was standing nearby, looked very dissatisfied. He sputtered awkwardly and finally exclaimed.
"Those mercenaries came at a high price! Make use of them now, lest they go to waste!"
Jighart ignored Graham completely and gave instructions to his assistant.
"Red Wolf Brotherhood, retreat. Archers to the front. Aim for the feet of the enemy soldiers and shoot three burst shots. Then fire at the archers on the castle walls. Twisted Claw fighters - prepare to discharge."
The messenger delivered Jighart's commands loudly to the troops. Soon multiple units of Rangers moved forward to fight in three groups of five. Responding to the commands of Hawkeye and Phantom Ranger, they loaded their arrows, pulled back the strings and poured forth like water. Their shots flew into the wind and broke into hundreds of pieces, lighting many fires at the feet of the Elves. Fortunately, the survivors of the Red Wolf Brotherhood and the units that had risked their lives to rescue them escaped without great losses.
Graham stomped his feet, frustrated at being ignored. Reaching the end of his patience, he put his hand to the back of Jighart. The ears of the black panther that had been sleeping next to Jighart stood up. The animal straightened its back lethargically and interceded Graham and his master. The panther bumped into Graham's leg with his shoulder, throwing him off balance. Stretching out his neck, the beast brushed himself against his benefactor, yawned and gave Graham a disdainful look. Graham caught himself and stepped back silently, his belligerent attitude quickly dissolving. Some time ago, Jighart had summoned this panther from the world of the dark.
Although Erika felt some sympathy for Graham, she took noticeable pleasure at his cold sweat and sudden silence.
In long strokes, Jighart kneaded the thick, lush fur that covered the immense cat, which purred loudly in response. Calmed to an almost trance-like state by this therapeutic activity, the leader addressed Graham in a detached, sublime tone.
"Do not worry, Graham. Since they are expendable, we will use the mercenaries as we see fit."
Jighart signaled his attendant to bring him a chair and his voice became more authoritative.
"The full-scale battle has not yet begun. Now, for the sake of your own well-being, please have a seat and watch the action from a comfortable distance."
Confounded, Graham could do naught else but seat himself and remain silent for the time being.
One drop. Two drops. Rain started to fall in earnest. Thick humidity that blanketed the conflagration became a torrential downpour, harsh drops stinging charred and weary faces. The field of battle became a mire of brown mud. Without regard to the capricious winds, clashes of iron rang ceaselessly and screams of the dying grew louder with the passage of time.
An Orc crouched in the rain some distance from the agonizing screams. Sharkdune, who had received the title of Destroyer from his race, was deeply immersed in meditation. Contrary to his silent disposition, thoughts of malice permeated his inner being. Were he able to join the fight, the Destroyer would have already shown the enemy the true meaning of his name. Erika was curious what he could be thinking at this moment. About his brothers who were rebuked as betrayers? A shameful memory of the day he was exiled by the prince of flames? Perhaps he thought about his fiance left back home.
Blood poured from his shoulder, glistening against the tendons of his wide, powerful back. Sharkdune was ready for battle.
His finest troops, numbering slightly more than twenty, waited patiently in their raincoats for their general's command. One of them held out an extra raincoat, but the leader raised his left hand without turning and spurned his subordinate's offer. Erika witnessed this and decided she would rather follow Jighart's lead than that of the Orc.
"If you do not hurry up and send them into battle, Sharkdune may come running with that club."
As if waiting for an ideal moment, Graham spoke up. He held an oily shred of paper against the rain as he stooped in the chair provided by Jighart.
"That Orc is the Destroyer who ruined one of the taik orc villages in the Forest of Mirrors!"
"One does not use a glaive to kill flies. This is not the right time for Sharkdune to step forth."
Graham stood up abruptly. "When would be the right time?"
Without blinking, Jighart remained impassive for what seemed an eternity. Finally, Graham shrugged his shoulders and collapsed again into his chair, muttering drolly.
"As usual, our infallible leader knows all and says nothing. But if he loses -"
"We will win." Erica cut him off.
In disgust, Graham sulked off and disappeared behind the camp. Erika was glad that he had left, even though he had escaped physical rebuke.
The rain fell in a torrent. As the heavens flashed in the north-west, the landscape changed to a white hue. Thunder boomed in the distance like the dull thump of beating drums.
"The intense lightening and rain reminds me of a heroic scene from the songs of the bards." Erica mused to herself.
A messenger approached, saluted Jighart and called out in a loud voice.
"Our Osori unit was destroyed! The leader of the Sigh of Hag unit is dead!"
"We can see that, you idiot!"
Before Jighart could say anything, Erika approached the messenger yelling shrilly, having lost control of her emotions. The leaders of the units still awaiting the commands looked in the direction of the sudden commotion. Erika was silenced by Jighart's black panther, which nudged her with his head and growled with a low rumble.
At last, Jighart spoke.
"And what of the Elves?"
"You mean the enemy?" Shaken, the messenger barely managed to reply. "They began to retreat. But it seems a few of them are still resisting outside the castle."
Jighart gave a faint smile. "Of course. That is the way the game is played."
He told the guard on duty to bring a lantern. Taking the lantern directly, he headed for the edge of the lake and gestured toward the mist-covered lake. A flame appeared from the middle of the lake as if to reply.
Suddenly, a massive flow of water splashed, throwing rocks toward the base of the mountain facing the military encampment. Something churned continuously in the water. A new sound was added to that of the waves and the rain, like the cawing of a bird. This changed to a creaking noise, as if hundreds of wooden doors were opening and closing. The water splashed again and a vibration emanated from within the earth. An enormous body, like a large column, rose up through the thick mist. Erika looked for the end of the column, but realized it was part of something much bigger. Already beside her, she had to turn completely around to see the entire thing.
It vaguely resembled human form, but with strangely long arms. Its entire body was covered in mud and vegetation, like some ancient giant appearing from the bottom of the lake. The maleficent streaks of rain washed it of these impurities. As the lightening struck again, Erika could clearly make out its face.
"A golem?"
The behemoth passed well over their heads, making its way towards the castle wall in heavy, lumbering strides.






Chapter V: Harbingers of War - Leona (2)
On The Parapet of Giran Castle
All words were forgotten in the empty thickness of battle. Sounds of rain and the clashing of weapons seemed remote and insipid. As soon as she saw that thing, Leona felt a huge anvil drop from outside existence to land with the forgotten harshness of reality on her head. An enormous iron leviathan, towering over the castle walls, lumbered slovenly towards them. Soldiers protecting the castle fell into panicked chaos, disregarding their duties, only able to stare at the thing.
"Shoot! Shoot now! No need to aim at something that size!"
Someone managed to scream a command to the archers. Shocked into reality, Leona gathered her wits and instinctively held up her spear.
"Maintain order!" She yelled with all her might.
"Think about our comrades, those who fought and died against Antharas, never to return! Act in a manner befitting their sacrifice!" With one foot on the parapet, she aimed her spear at the mechanical blight.
Her officers were first to respond, commanding soldiers to let loose with arrows and magic. However, the arrows bounced off the giant behemoth's iron hull like mad flies. The mystics sent flaming balls of crimson that rode the hot moisture, only to leave faint scorch marks on their target.
The gray golem disregarded their combined resistance, treading heavily towards its destination. As it approached the moat, a crossbeam supporting the bridge creaked ominously. Suppressing her urge to scream, Leona ordered her forces to continue their resistance.
Suddenly, the somnambulant automaton crashed into the castle walls with the full force of its brutish mass. Leona staggered near the precipice, collapsing into someone who grabbed her tightly and brought her down safely on top of himself, breaking her fall.
Gathering her wits, she realized the person underneath her was sorcerer Dubian of the Ivory Tower. His robes were completely muddied from the rain and his wet hair stuck to his face.
Leona stood up and returned to the parapet, forgetting to thank her supporter. The berserk machine slowly raised its huge arms to pummel the castle gates. Magic and arrows sent against the giant abated, leaving flames only on one arm, which soon extinguished.
Dejected, Leona could spur her soldiers no further. Looking off in the distance with a languid gaze, she felt the despair consume her entire body.
Dubian spoke.
"That golem was created by Dwarven blacksmiths of the Black Anvil Guild. Look at the mark on its shoulder - it represents the black anvil itself. But to move a body so large requires an extraordinary power source."
Cutting short the lengthy explanation, Leona replied sharply.
"What does it matter? That thing is going to raze the castle gates. We must find a way to stop it!"
At that moment, the entire castle shook fiercely, with a force much stronger than before. Many soldiers collapsed in their places and sorcerers fell like coins from the Ivory Tower. Leona held the stone columns of the parapet with both of her hands, barely able to endure the onslaught. With every rise and fall of the golem's huge arms, the thick boards that made up the castle walls were splintered and scattered all around.
Dubian called out while supporting his body against the wall of the lookout tower.
"The one controlling that thing must be a Dwarf of the Black Anvils. We must find him! If we can stop him, this golem will become nothing more than a lifeless iron heap!"
Leona paid no heed to the arrows that flew in from the attacking camp. Pushing her upper body over the edge of the castle wall, she inspected the scene. Due to the fog of the lake, she could only see a world completely awash in a milky-white haze.
Another violent crash added to the sounds of destruction, resulting in visible cracks on the castle gates. Leona blinked uncertainly, blinded temporarily by a sudden burst of light that came from the direction of the lake. She ran along the castle wall to determine the cause.
Dubian followed behind her, reciting spells that formed a magic column of circular light. A cat-like creature with unusually large eyes emerged, standing on two feet. The sorcerer uttered more commands and the creature leaped upon the parapet, put its paws to its forehead and gazed across the lake. After a short time, it approached the sorcerer and communicated mentally with its master.
"The Dwarf is at the lake."
With that, Leona sprang to action. "Bring me a swift horse!"
She hurried toward the stairway. "Fighting an opponent you cannot see is a futile endeavor. One must go directly to the source."
"No, you cannot do that! It is too dangerous!" The Elven oracle Luellin, who had not spoken until now, blocked Leona's path.
She roughly pushed him aside and shouted. "Get out of my way!"
Luellin staggered slightly, but refused to allow Leona to pass. He looked intently into her eyes and yelled in desperation.
"My life, as well as that of everyone in this castle depends on you!"
Soldiers on the castle walls followed Leona with their eyes, supporting Luellin's pleas.
Ice-cold drops of rain stung her neck, shoulders and chest. As Leona muttered to herself, an archer extended his hand and took a position.
"Bow!"
The archer handed his bow to Leona. She walked quickly to the north end of the castle wall.
"Dubian. Pen and paper."
The sorcerer and oracle followed behind. "Speak. I will write what you say."
Leona reached the north side of the castle wall and tied the completed letter to an arrow. She relied on memory to find a small thicket located northeast of the castle and pulled the bowstring. The arrow followed an arc as it disappeared into the fog.
A short time later, she looked in the direction the arrow had flown and headed again for the west side of the castle wall. She still had much to accomplish.
Vellion lead a few more than twenty Human and Elven foot soldiers, concealed in a small thicket between the castle and lake. The attackers would not have expected numerically inferior defensive forces to expend a separate unit. Vellion and the foot soldiers departed from the castle through a secret gate to the north, where they awaited further orders.
Having read the letter attached to the arrow, Vellion headed for the lake immediately. They avoided the attackers, which were concentrated mainly in front of the castle gate. Bypassing the eastern side of the castle walls, they traced the edge of the lake according to Leona's instructions. Fog concealed the group's movements until they reached their destination.
They came face to face with the attackers.
A Dwarf held a lantern that was covered to protect it against the rain. In his other hand, he held a strange mechanical device, shaking and gesturing with it in the golem's direction.
Vellion's eyes met those of the Dwarf. The Dwarf looked back at the Elf, opened his eyes wide in surprise, but began to laugh.
A huge Orc with fierce claws of steel appeared from behind the Dwarf, which quickly turned and hid behind him. The head lieutenant of the foot soldiers also appeared, whose body was encased in heavy armor, emblazoned with the crest of a golden sheep.
Vellion looked at the lake that stretched behind the Orc and sighed. He slowly lifted his sword.





























Chapter VI: Harbingers of War - Erika (3)
Giran Castle Lakeside
The Elf emanated a surprising ruthlessness. The edges of his Elven Longsword ran with blood as his opponents ran for their very lives. Erika watched with amazement as the Elf slew six of her fellow soldiers. A wiry rogue approached the Elf from behind, moving stealthily through the fog. His grip tightened around the hilt of his long, serrated dagger.
Erika watched as the rogue raised his dagger for the killing blow. Without warning, the rogue's neck was sliced open and his weapon flew haphazardly. A shining, fist-sized orb returned to the Elf of its own accord. He stood as still as a statue, except for his eyes, which were scanning for a new target. His expressionless gaze fell on Erika, who was mostly enshrouded in fog.
"Come here."
With sword outstretched, a faint aura flowed from the Elf's body. The soldiers raised their weapons and approached the Elf. The mercenaries, once possessed by bloodlust, were suddenly satiated. The sight of their fallen allies, scattered and broken across the battlefield, did nothing to deter them as they approached their own demise.
"Be careful!"
Even as these words left her lips, Erika became aware that she was no longer hidden by the fog. She too walked toward the Elf, carrying nothing but her pitiful dagger.
One after another, the mercenaries died on the Elf's sword. Erika strained to restore her own will, managing to stop the movement of her feet. It was all she could do just to remain still as the Elf engaged her Dwarven ally. As the killing stroke was about to fall, she saw the Destroyer, Sharkdune appear from the mist. He swung a hammer at the dwarf, knocking him into the lake and out of harm's way.
Sharkdune took out his two-handed Jamadhr as the Elf recoiled. A strange battle cry, half yell, half song, burst from deep within the Orc. The two-edged sword slashed toward Sharkdune's neck, but he crossed his metal claws, catching the blade. The small shape that hovered about the Elf emitted a light as it dove towards the Orc's chest. Stepping back, the Orc seized the offensive. The six claws of the Jamadhr flashed time and again. The Elf evaded and parried the attacks.
The Elf's face seemed made of clay and the Orc's forearms seemed like dragon leather. Each was marred with countless cuts, and with each clash, fresh blood flowed, spattering the ground.
"This is not going to work," Erika thought.
Erika picked up a dead archer's bow, and found a stray arrow in the mud. She drew her shot and aimed for the Elf. But the Orc and the Elf moved so quickly that she could not track her target. Knowing she could not seriously injure the Orc, she released the arrow.
The arrow sliced between the warriors, breaking the flow of Sharkdune's onslaught. The Elf paid no attention to her as he attacked with a single-bladed sword. Sharkdune stood his ground, lashing out with the Jamadhr. The blades collided in an eruption of unnatural flame. Metal slid across metal as the combatants maneuvered their interlocked weapons. With a deft twist of his hilt, the Elf broke the guard of his own sword against the durable claws of the Jamadhr. The Elf withdrew his blade, cutting the Jamadahr's leather bindings, and gouging flesh beneath it.
Blood flowed between the claws of Sharkdune's Jamadhr. The straps unraveled, slick with blood. The weapon slipped from the Orc's hand, falling to the ground, heavy and useless.
Erika let out a scream and ran toward the Elf. The single edged blade arced toward her with stunning precision. Erika felt the tip of the blade whip through the loose strands of her hair as she ducked and rolled to the ground. Sharkdune lunged, thrusting the remaining Jamadhr forward. The Elf parried with one sword, plunging the remaining blade into the Orc's flank. He howled ferociously. Erika rose to one knee, then pounced.
"Die!"
She threw her entire weight into the dagger, penetrating the Mithril armor, cutting flesh and breaking bone, finally touching the very life of the Elf.
The Elf slowly collapsed. As he dropped to his knees, a strange sadness came over his face. His eyes fluttered and he fell to the ground.
Looking at Sharkdune, she saw that he was gazing down at the corpse of his enemy in silence. Blood flowed from the spot the Elf had stabbed him, but it was not a mortal wound. The Orc unfastened the remaining Jamadhr and threw it into the lake.
Erika wondered if the Orc was angry at her for having intercepted his opponent. She stood for a moment and decided to approach him. Touching his shoulder, she spoke with purpose.
"He would not have killed you."
Sharkdune looked at her with a severe gaze. His eyes bespoke his uncertainty. Erika turned her face without knowing why.
"I am sorry."
Sharkdune walked toward the edge of the lake, where the Dwarf he had saved was nursing a wound. The Dwarf was holding a huge weapon that was twice as tall as his own height. Sharkdune took the weapon, waved it around in the air and then looked directly at Erika.
"Victory."
He spoke as if it was a declaration written in stone and then laughed. Erika let out a smile. Then she turned her thoughts back to the battle.
"It looks as though there was more resistance in the castle than we expected. Many foes still remain."
A Dwarf sat in a tree near the encampment, a pipe clenched between his teeth. He held a cylindrical item to his eye and looked out toward the lake.
"The operator seems to still be alive," said a voice somewhere near the base of the tree.
The Dwarf removed the device from his eye and looked down at the source of his interruption. A Human stood next to the tree trunk.
"What did you say?" the Dwarf asked.
"The golem operator seems to have survived."
The Dwarf let out a hearty laugh and put more tobacco into the pipe with his thumb. His fingertips, long-since calloused from doing a Blacksmith's work, could not feel the heat from the burning ash.
"That is a stupid thing to say."
"What? Why?" The man standing under the tree spoke.
"What possible reason could there be for shaking a lantern while operating a golem?" The Dwarf took a deep puff from the pipe and spoke slowly and deliberately. "And why did the Orc take the device from the Dwarf? Because it was too heavy?"
The Human under the tree opened his eyes wide and looked out over the lake as if in disbelief.
"Then� why did Jighart use the lantern?"
"Because he is a fox. With nothing more than a lick of flame, he lured the enemy's finest soldiers to their death."
"But to risk the life of the golem operator�"
The Dwarf sighed. "It was the enemy who assumed that the lantern's light came from the golem operator's hiding place - an assumption that Jighart predicted and intended. The enemy has paid the price for their folly."
The Dwarf jumped down from the tree. The Human hurriedly reached out to him, but the Dwarf pushed him away as if to say he did not need the help.
"Quite a successful field test."
The Human nodded in agreement.
"I trust you will speak well of it to those who have invested." The blacksmith of the Black Anvil Guild smiled with satisfaction.






























Chapter VII: Harbingers of War - Leona (3)
The Inner Castle Item Area of Giran
In the hallway behind the throne room, the tension was thick. Only ten remained, including Leona. She wondered how many of them would even have the strength to raise their weapons when the time came.
The damage was severe, and the situation was grim, but hope remained. If they could prevent the leader of the invading force from seizing control of the castle's heart � a holy relic � they would emerge victorious. But Jighart's forces were very strong. They had swarmed through the courtyard and smashed the inner door. Now they were headed straight for the relic, and the only way to reach it was through the hallway Leona's group guarded.
Leona could not help but notice the precarious condition of her rag-tag group. She feared that Injury and exhaustion might take them before even having the chance to face the enemy. Some had retreated here out of loyalty, while others had been driven here by the happenstance of battle. Behind Leona, the Oracle Luellin was still standing. But Dubian had been lost in the chaos. And the report of Vellion's death had come as a blow to the troops.
Even as she surveyed the scene, Leona noticed that she was bleeding. Luellin spread out her arms to cast a spell of healing but Leona stopped.
"Save your strength for the others."
The nearby soldiers who had protected them had suffered even more seriously. Luellin did what she could to heal their wounds.
The clashing of swords was replaced by the echo of swift footsteps. Their enemies had dispatched the last remnants of the castle's outer resistance. Leona lifted her sword. The soldiers created a defensive perimeter around Leona. The enemy appeared from around the corner and Leona summoned the strength to shout.
"Glory to Giran! Attack!"
The first wave of enemy soldiers was cut down by a row of spears. The charge was broken, and Leona's defenders held their ground. A massive Orc waded through the melee, wielding an enormous glaive. Leona doubted he could put it to good use in the narrow, crowded hallway. But she watched in horror as the Orc broke through the defensive perimeter.
"It's dangerous! Get back!"
Leona pushed the soldiers and ran out to meet the Orc, tearing away from Luellin's protective grasp.
The Orc's glaive cut through flesh, and smashed the granite walls. Blood and dust filled the air. Half of her remaining force lay amidst the rubble. Another wave of enemy soldiers followed in the Orc's wake.
Leona ordered her unit to retreat to the Relic Chamber. They stood in a tight circle, surrounding the Holy Relic, as the enemy surrounded them. Leona could see that the time to recognize defeat had come.
Leona slowly looked around her. Even in the second-floor railing that encircled the chamber had been completely overrun by enemy archers. The arrows that were directed at her all glowed blue together with a brief, low hum.
"Hold your fire."
The enemy soldiers that had been blocking the entrance stepped back and Jighart Ein came forth, followed by his black panther. He looked at the Orc and spoke.
"Sharkdune. There are still some forces resisting in the east of the inner castle."
The Orc didn't budge.
"There is no need for you to remain. She has already lost her will to fight."
The Orc didn't take his eyes of off Leona.
"Sharkdune!"
The Orc turned his back and left the Relic Chamber.
Jighart moved his gaze past the corpses to look at the girl who stood holding a sword. He gave her just the slightest smile.
"It's been a long time, Lady Leona. Or does the occasion require that I call you sir?"
"Jighart."
"It is too bad that we meet this time as enemies."
"There's nothing to feel sorry about."
Jighart furrowed his brow and looked once again at the girl before him. Her hair was damp with sweat, her skin stained with blood.
"Even scarred by battle you are no less beautiful than you were on the night we spent in the ruined fortress."
Leona attacked Jighart. He gracefully side-stepped her blow. He drew his sword and parried her next attack as well. In the space of that moment, the entire room erupted into chaos.
Luellin cast her gaze on Jighart and began an incantation, but Jighart's panther leapt at her. The exhausted oracle was unable to dodge in time. The panther knocked her to the floor, pinning her under its giant paws. The Oracle flailed her staff desperately, but the panther swatted it away. The panther sunk its teeth into Luellin's throat. The Oracle went limp as her blue robes turned to red.
Leona heard Luellin's last cries, but had no time to feel anything. She was the only one left. She knew that she was surrounded enemies, but she kept her gaze locked firmly on Jighart as she attacked.
For some reason, his response came a split-second too late. The tip of her sword grazed his temple. A drop of blood rolled down Jighart's cheek.
Catching her breath, Leona noticed that Jighart's men were no longer focused on her. They began stumbling incoherently, and dropped to the ground one by one. It was only then she noticed the faint purple light that lingered in the air, clinging unnaturally to the unconscious soldiers. At the same time, the archers that had been trying to shoot her from the second-floor were attacked by a strange, catlike creature.
"Leona! This way!"
Entering the Relic Chamber was Dubian of the Ivory Tower and an Elven Elder. A writhing ball of flames appeared at the end of her hands and flew toward Jighart. Together with the explosion, the entire body of the dark avenger was engulfed in dark red flames. Jighart crossed both arms to protect his head and rolled to the ground. His black panther sprinted toward the Elven mystic. Dubian let out a scream and collapsed.
Leona ran over to Dubian. Jighart, who had extinguished the flames, blocked her way. Leona's sword was filled with the energy of the spirits. Her weapon flew toward the dark avenger's head. Again he blocked it.
Suddenly, a red shimmering caught fire under his feet. The ghostly red tendrils spiraled upward and around his legs, immobilizing him.
The Elder finished reciting the spell and called to Leona. But Leona was rushing to Dubian's aid. Dubian rammed the end of her staff between the panther's bared teeth and pushed with both hands. The panther fell to the ground with the staff still in its mouth. Dubian rose to her feet. A white flame arose to the side of her body and then a bright flash hit the panther hard. The panther was consumed by a cloud of black smoke and it disappeared � sent back to the nether realm from whence it came.
As Leona put her arm around Dubian, she saw one of Jighart's sleeping soldiers begin to stir. It wouldn't be long before his entire force awoke.
Before leaving the Relic Chamber, Leona turned around to look at the dark avenger. His dark eyes gleamed as he smiled.
"Goodbye, Leona Blackbird."
Leona knew he was looking for an emotional response. She had no intention of giving him the satisfaction. She broke away from his gaze and said nothing.
Leona, Dubian and the Elder fled through the corpse-strewn hallway.






























Chapter VIII: Harbingers of War - Epilogue
The dark clouds that poured rain over Giran slowly dissipated. Jighart, leader of the mercenaries, gathered with his fighters in front of the holy relic of Giran castle. The soldiers eyed Sir Graham suspiciously, as he entered the room to find Jighart receiving a report.

"The defending officers have all died or run away. A few continue to resist in some areas of the castle, but they are soon defeated."

Graham clapped his hands and walked over to Jighart. He placed a hand on the dark avenger's shoulder.

"You're amazing! Truly amazing! It was a complete victory, Sir Jighart!"

Jighart smiled humbly and looked at Graham. Graham went over to the holy relic before speaking casually.

"The Lord will be very happy. There were some misunderstandings in the beginning, but they mean nothing after this great victory. I will be sure to tell the Lord about your hard work."

"Do you really need to trouble him?"

Jighart stood next to Graham and observed the holy relic quietly. It had the form of a woman standing on a jeweled pedestal. This object was no ordinary statue. It bestowed absolute power to the holder, over the rich land of Giran.

"How curious."

Graham opened his eyes wide, as if to ask what he meant.

"Looking at it this way�", the dark avenger removed the glove on his left hand, facing the holy relic and took a step closer.

Graham quickly put out his hand in a defensive gesture. "What, what?" He laughed nervously and spoke. "Sir Jighart, your work stops here."

Jighart smiled without speaking.

"Stop joking around. Take my share of the compensation. I'll give you as much as you want. Wait until the Lord has communed with the holy relic, as planned."

Jighart's right hand went to his hip and then moved forward again. It was a natural and flowing movement, as if taking out a handkerchief to wipe away sweat. His smile remained, as Graham's head fell to the ground. Jighart placed the sword back into its sheath, without a drop of blood on it.

"I had grown used to his nagging voice. I'm almost sad we won't be hearing it any longer." His underlings laughed heartily.

Jighart put his left hand softly on the holy relic. The statue and jewels turned red and a faint light started to shine. Light spread to Jighart's arm, was absorbed into his body, and that was all. Those in the vicinity realized that the castle had just changed ownership.

Jighardt and his mercenaries walked out. In the middle of the imperial room, a golden carpet was spread. At the other end was a table inlaid with gold. In front of the table was a dark green billowed insignia. Under that insignia, there was a red base and a footrest created in the shape of a wolf's head. Near the throne were the servants and chamberlain who service the castle lord.

"Do you have anything to say?"

The chamberlain smiled softly and shook his head without speaking.

Jighart slowly went up to the throne and sat down. He rested his chin on his left hand and lifted one leg up over the other. Satisfied, he smiled. With the chamberlain leading the way, the employees of the castle expressed their courtesies to the new castle lord.

Twenty or so wooden boxes were scattered around in a disorganized way in one room on the second floor of Giran Castle. Erika Ken Weber shook off the dust gathered on the last box and opened the top to see what was inside. There were old tools for maintaining a garden.

Erika exclaimed and hit the box with all her might. She checked again for the items in the box; after a short time, she sighed with resignation and simply left the room.

The item she was looking for had already disappeared.

In the hallway, corpses were lying all around, of both friendly and enemy troops slain in battle. She avoided the corpses in the hall and stopped before a window. Outside, she could see the soldiers reveling wildly in their victory. The noise of celebration in honor of the new lord was very loud.

If the object she was unable to find was still in the hands of the enemy, she would have to leave the castle before the year was up. So too would her allies.

Erika shook her head and returned to her comrades.

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CHRONICLES II : AGE OF SPLENDOR
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Age of Splendor - Prelude
If you plow the fields, seeds will sprout and new growth will occur. The land of Aden, once devastated by those bloodthirsty for war, has blossomed into prosperity.

While the feudal lords and aged knights, bound by tradition, lamented the collapse of the old order, others aspired to cause destruction behind the scenes. Merchants were willing to placate anyone to make a profit.

Sieghardt Ein had been recognized as the lord of Giran Castle, but he did not actually rule over its territory. He neglected to perform the duties of a castle lord, such as collecting taxes or managing the manor. After three months, he abandoned the castle, disappearing with his soldiers. However, the lord who succeeded him was overly ambitious. While brushing off strong opposition from Giran traders, he treated their decades-old trade war with Innadril as a mere diplomatic issue. Innadril, the manor of water, had been unable to trade with other territories without first going through Giran. Now the lord of the manor made a pact with the lord of Giran and commerce resumed between the two territories.

With the re-opening of Heine Harbor and the completion of Giran Harbor, trade routes connecting Aden, Giran and Innadril extended to Avella of the Orient. The method of raising striders was propagated among the populace, making it possible to transport a large volume of freight by ground much faster than before. Tea, silk and spices were accepted by the rich as their favored luxuries. Traditional methods of blacksmithing were revolutionized, thanks to a brave sailor who stole Avella's secret for hardening metal. One of the exotic items that became indispensable was the symbol of Avella, said to have mysterious powers. This symbol gradually spread to the general population, ushering in an era overflowing with money and goods in the eastern region of Aden.

In the fields of Dion and in the Coliseum of Narsell Lake, the Age of Splendor was proclaimed with wild enthusiasm. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow, it is said. Under the bright light of fireworks in the festival called the Age of Splendor, they conducted arrogant explorations.

My one and only mentor, in his book "The Eternal 1,000 Days," alluded to what Baium, the accursed emperor, had symbolized in this world ruled by lazy gods. The crimson-hued treasure flowing in the blood of the most god-like Human absorbed not only the essence of the five tribes fated for death, but also that of angels and otherworldly beings. The names of these creatures will be linked with hatred and fear when they are entered in the chronicles of later days. The first to appear was the one named Hallate.

The three holy arks were once hidden away in Giran, the Cursed Forest and Aden, the Capital City. They were lost during times of war, then reappeared when the struggle for the emperor's throne commenced. According to rumor, the arks contain the relics of the saint who sold Baium to a god. Many sought the arks, but even the zealots such as Athebaldt and Rodemai made the mistake of underestimating the true difficulty of their objective. They dispatched mercenaries and traders to track down the holy arks. Many of them died during this pursuit, when they clashed with formidable beings called Ark Guardians.

My guess is that Aria FirstMatter is not one of them. Her passionate sense of destiny, noble dignity and blind love would have made her deny herself any form of compromise. Two dark elves from the north approached her. One of them was Scride, a knight of Pavel who was once a Blade Dancer, recognized by the elders of the underground city. The other was Esen, who was better known by his nickname Crow Feather. He was once a Phantom Ranger, active in Ruhn. It is a great irony that the one who contributed the greatest for this cause was Tetrarch Thifiell of the underground city.

We all experience success and failure in equal measures. After obtaining something we desire, we realize it was not what we truly wanted after all. Quite often, many are simply dumbfounded when this happens!


























Chapter I: Age of Splendor - Shadow Fang
On the plains, the wheel of a toppled wagon made a labored, groaning sound. The mountain peaks, crowned with cold rock and permanent ice, were soon cloaked in darkness, as the sun dipped below the ridges. Darkness: a solvent that can melt cruelty where blood and tears are cheap, allowing avarice to rear its filthy head. Even simple mundane pleasures sprang from this harsh environment.

A gang of thugs, whose trade is fighting and killing, slowly approached the wagon, still making its tortured noise. Another gang that had already settled in this territory, but they did not have a warm welcome for people of the same profession. Especially as they turned into lifeless corpses that can no longer shake hands with anyone, nor kill to make money. The thugs, freed from the yoke of their humdrum lives, seemed uninterested in collecting any relics.

A young Elf grabbed the wheel to stop it; else, it might have spun forever. Standing within twenty corpses, he listened to the murmuring whispers of his fellow mercenaries. They were looking for a certain chest. One within the group, who liked to boast of his knowledge, said that the chest was an object that Baron Lewin, former lord of Giran, concealed before he lost the castle. However, he failed to attract his colleagues' attention. They were not interested in the contents of some box stuck in a mud hole somewhere. Rather, they chatted enthusiastically about the women they would woo and the booze they would drink when they returned to the village.

"The strawberry pie of Natalie is the best in Aden. I know some accuse me of being unmanly when I go crazy over just a pie. Ah, well. I used to have an attitude like theirs, until the day Natalie baked a pie for me! According to Natalie, the secret of making a delicious strawberry pie is -- Aarggh!"

A gigantic arrow, as big as a javelin, drove through the chest of the pie-loving mercenary, exposing its evil crooked tip. The dying mercenary looked at it as though he had never seen such a thing before, and then turned his eyes toward his fellow mercenaries. He did not have the opportunity to say farewell to his fellows. The other mercenaries sprang to the opposite side of the wagon to ready themselves for the next volley from their unknown attacker.

The mercenaries were hesitant. They were not stupid enough to rush towards the forest without knowing what was lurking there. However, they could not just sit around the wagon without locating their hidden enemy. Again and again, sharp sounds, like the ripping of silk cloth, were heard. Each time, some part of the wagon was destroyed. The wagon caved in on itself, as if it were made of paper. Arrows came from across the road and the mercenaries ran in the opposite direction into the forest. Although the forest looked safe enough during the day, when night fell it turned into an ominous monster. A small root connected to an old tree stump that looked like a witch's hand stretching low on the ground, caught the feet of passersby. Dead dried-up tree branches poked their eyes, and rotting water under fallen leaves besot their shoes. The insects, whose rest was disturbed, expressed their displeasure by violently attacking the mercenaries' eyes, ears and noses. Surrounded by such formidable enemies, they expected the mysterious archer soon to close in on them. They split into groups of three or five and went into hiding, waiting for the archer's attack.

Feeling his chest tighten, the Elf looked up. Unlike those it contained, the forest looked peaceful. The wind-filled sky that ushered in the night was clothed in fine deep indigo fabric studded with pearls. Soon the round, full moon poked its head between the trees. When the wind died down as though it was proclaiming someone's fate, the forest let out the sound of a lonely beast's cry.

Birds hurriedly flew away, roused by the angry shouts, screams of death throes, terrible wails and moans. The shadows showed their sharp fangs and rushed in like lightning to rip, slice, twist, bite, claw, hurl, kick, break, and finally to kill. A few minutes later, the forest was filled with gasping and moaning, soaked in dark red blood. The full moon grinned, coloring the scenery in a lifeless, colorless hue.

The Elf was confused, unsure if he was alive or dead. In the scenery that had turned hazy gray, the two eyes of the wolf he suddenly faced sparkled in bright green neon. The Elf was curious why the gigantic wolf was meeting its eyes with his. This question was soon answered by his head, which felt like it was about to fall off, and his legs that helplessly dangled in the air. The wolf stood up on its two hind legs, grasping the Elf's head with one hand. With its other hand the wolf held a bow that looked similar to the one used by rangers, except much larger. When the wolf opened its mouth, the Elf could see its teeth, which looked like countless daggers covered in dark blood. A phrase was whispered in his ear.

"... World Tree Glade is..."

It took the Elf a little time to realize that the wolf was talking to him, so he missed most of what the wolf had said to him.

"... if you don't want to see the World Tree Glade uprooted, do not touch the Seal."

The wolf threw the Elf carelessly to the ground. The Elf attempted to stand up, but realized he could not control his legs. Barely able to support his upper body with his two arms, he glared at the wolf.

"Why do you threaten me?"

The wolf, having already walked away, suddenly stopped. Each step he took was imprinted with dark red footprints. The wolf answered.

"It was not a threat." Then the wolf disappeared, leaving the Elf behind.

Some time later, when the Elf managed to remember why he came to this place, he returned to where the wagon had been rolled over. Then he realized he had been following the footprints of the wolf. The wagon was lying on its side and dead bodies of mercenaries were strewn all around. Everything appeared the same as it did before, except the chest had disappeared.








































Chapter II: Age of Splendor - Shadow Fang
On the plains, the wheel of a toppled wagon made a labored, groaning sound. The mountain peaks, crowned with cold rock and permanent ice, were soon cloaked in darkness, as the sun dipped below the ridges. Darkness: a solvent that can melt cruelty where blood and tears are cheap, allowing avarice to rear its filthy head. Even simple mundane pleasures sprang from this harsh environment.

A gang of thugs, whose trade is fighting and killing, slowly approached the wagon, still making its tortured noise. Another gang that had already settled in this territory, but they did not have a warm welcome for people of the same profession. Especially as they turned into lifeless corpses that can no longer shake hands with anyone, nor kill to make money. The thugs, freed from the yoke of their humdrum lives, seemed uninterested in collecting any relics.

A young Elf grabbed the wheel to stop it; else, it might have spun forever. Standing within twenty corpses, he listened to the murmuring whispers of his fellow mercenaries. They were looking for a certain chest. One within the group, who liked to boast of his knowledge, said that the chest was an object that Baron Lewin, former lord of Giran, concealed before he lost the castle. However, he failed to attract his colleagues' attention. They were not interested in the contents of some box stuck in a mud hole somewhere. Rather, they chatted enthusiastically about the women they would woo and the booze they would drink when they returned to the village.

"The strawberry pie of Natalie is the best in Aden. I know some accuse me of being unmanly when I go crazy over just a pie. Ah, well. I used to have an attitude like theirs, until the day Natalie baked a pie for me! According to Natalie, the secret of making a delicious strawberry pie is -- Aarggh!"

A gigantic arrow, as big as a javelin, drove through the chest of the pie-loving mercenary, exposing its evil crooked tip. The dying mercenary looked at it as though he had never seen such a thing before, and then turned his eyes toward his fellow mercenaries. He did not have the opportunity to say farewell to his fellows. The other mercenaries sprang to the opposite side of the wagon to ready themselves for the next volley from their unknown attacker.

The mercenaries were hesitant. They were not stupid enough to rush towards the forest without knowing what was lurking there. However, they could not just sit around the wagon without locating their hidden enemy. Again and again, sharp sounds, like the ripping of silk cloth, were heard. Each time, some part of the wagon was destroyed. The wagon caved in on itself, as if it were made of paper. Arrows came from across the road and the mercenaries ran in the opposite direction into the forest. Although the forest looked safe enough during the day, when night fell it turned into an ominous monster. A small root connected to an old tree stump that looked like a witch's hand stretching low on the ground, caught the feet of passersby. Dead dried-up tree branches poked their eyes, and rotting water under fallen leaves besot their shoes. The insects, whose rest was disturbed, expressed their displeasure by violently attacking the mercenaries' eyes, ears and noses. Surrounded by such formidable enemies, they expected the mysterious archer soon to close in on them. They split into groups of three or five and went into hiding, waiting for the archer's attack.

Feeling his chest tighten, the Elf looked up. Unlike those it contained, the forest looked peaceful. The wind-filled sky that ushered in the night was clothed in fine deep indigo fabric studded with pearls. Soon the round, full moon poked its head between the trees. When the wind died down as though it was proclaiming someone's fate, the forest let out the sound of a lonely beast's cry.

Birds hurriedly flew away, roused by the angry shouts, screams of death throes, terrible wails and moans. The shadows showed their sharp fangs and rushed in like lightning to rip, slice, twist, bite, claw, hurl, kick, break, and finally to kill. A few minutes later, the forest was filled with gasping and moaning, soaked in dark red blood. The full moon grinned, coloring the scenery in a lifeless, colorless hue.

The Elf was confused, unsure if he was alive or dead. In the scenery that had turned hazy gray, the two eyes of the wolf he suddenly faced sparkled in bright green neon. The Elf was curious why the gigantic wolf was meeting its eyes with his. This question was soon answered by his head, which felt like it was about to fall off, and his legs that helplessly dangled in the air. The wolf stood up on its two hind legs, grasping the Elf's head with one hand. With its other hand the wolf held a bow that looked similar to the one used by rangers, except much larger. When the wolf opened its mouth, the Elf could see its teeth, which looked like countless daggers covered in dark blood. A phrase was whispered in his ear.

"... World Tree Glade is..."

It took the Elf a little time to realize that the wolf was talking to him, so he missed most of what the wolf had said to him.

"... if you don't want to see the World Tree Glade uprooted, do not touch the Seal."

The wolf threw the Elf carelessly to the ground. The Elf attempted to stand up, but realized he could not control his legs. Barely able to support his upper body with his two arms, he glared at the wolf.

"Why do you threaten me?"

The wolf, having already walked away, suddenly stopped. Each step he took was imprinted with dark red footprints. The wolf answered.

"It was not a threat." Then the wolf disappeared, leaving the Elf behind.

Some time later, when the Elf managed to remember why he came to this place, he returned to where the wagon had been rolled over. Then he realized he had been following the footprints of the wolf. The wagon was lying on its side and dead bodies of mercenaries were strewn all around. Everything appeared the same as it did before, except the chest had disappeared.








































Chapter III: Age of Splendor - Aria
In order to meet with Warehouse Chief Gesto, she had to waste four days. This was not because Gesto made her wait. From the moment angels first descended into the Tower of Insolence, watchful eyes followed Aria from an imperceptible distance. Among them, those who made her especially nervous were the two pursuers who had followed her since Elmore. Aria hid herself in a shabby room at an inn and did not leave until she was certain they had given up searching for her.

Pavel's legendary "Knights of Moon Tears", unlike the knights of Aden that consist mainly of Paladins or Knights, consisted of various backgrounds and skills -- that is, if we can still call them "knights". This must have something to do with the fact that this manor has had a good relationship with the Mercenaries of the Ruhn. Two of the major supporting forces of the Ruhn mercenaries are the "Cursed Forest" and the "Underground City of Dark Elves." Aria could only guess at the circumstances of the time. The important question was, to what extent did the Underground City show its true intentions to Pavel or Ruhn? Aria could not predict anything regarding this one way or another.

Fifteen minutes after entering the warehouse, Aria came out through the back door and returned to the hazy night air of Giran. During the twenty minutes of her walk to get back to her lodging, she was almost sure that she had evaded all of her pursuers. When she returned to the inn, she did not see the old Dwarf, who usually dozed at the counter. Holding a small, lit candle in one hand, she climbed the squeaky stairs and walked down the hallway. When the candlelight flickered, her own shadow seemed to waver above her as though it were trying to speak to her. The bluish light of the night poured in through the last window at the end of the hall, providing illumination ahead of her. Finally, she arrived at her room.

She passed by the door of her room without stopping and reached for the doorknob to the next room, which was empty. A sharp sound was heard and a small hole appeared in the window facing the street, causing her to let go of the doorknob. Suddenly, an arrow with a black flag attached stuck in the doorframe. All of this occurred in the blink of an eye.

"Crow Feather?"

Muscles flexed and tensed. Blood pumped into her ears and eyes, creating a throbbing sensation. From her fingertips to her arms and shoulders, an electrical current traveled up and down her nervous system.

In order to avoid being hit, she braced her body against the wall, jumped down and reached the landing of the stairs in one breath. Using her dagger, she cut the candle to extinguish it and lowered her body under the candleholder. The hallway embraced her in an abyss of darkness. An arrow came through the window and destroyed what was left of the candlestick. The next arrow flew above Aria's head as she crouched like a frog against the wall. Breathing a sigh of relief, she rolled onto her side. She could sense the last arrow was targeted where she was just a moment ago.

Aria stopped moving and remained silent, holding her breath. The bedroom door burst open and a knight of Pavel flashed out like lightning, brandishing two swords. Aria aimed for the knight's back and plunged her dagger into it. The knight used both of his swords to cover both his front and back, so he could defend himself against whatever might be lurking in the dark corridor. Although somewhat clumsy, this blocked Aria's dagger from causing a fatal wound.

Through the window of the bedroom where a curtain was closed, a very faint light leaked into the room. As soon as she stepped into this poorly illuminated area, another arrow shot towards her. In spite of the risk that he might hit his own people, the archer shot his arrow where he guessed she was going to move, which was surprisingly accurate.

While running into the bedroom, Aria was hit in the leg and thrown into the wall under a window. The knight who chased after her into the bedroom immediately brought down his sword while she struggled to re-gain her balance. She deflected the knight's attack with her own dagger and with a loud outcry quickly slashed across her enemy's throat. A disgusting sound spilled out of him, but her tactic was met by another sword.

Aria was able to see her opponent's face for the first time. The young Dark Elf seemed less than 200 years old. He appeared to be strong and surprisingly calm. The young knight slowly glided the blade of his sword across her dagger. The center of balance shifted and the tips of the two swords trembled dangerously against each other.

"Give me the Book of the Saint."

When the sword blade danced across her eyes, Aria grimaced.

"Don't ask me! Go to a bookstore!"

With her dagger, Aria drew a big circle and let go of it from her hand. The sword blade of the young knight touched her wrist, creating a long, deep wound, spilling forth much blood. Aria buried herself into the chest of the young knight and embraced him tightly with both of her arms.

With an eerie cry, she threw herself against the window. The window shattered and the entangled combatants rolled down on the eaves and fell down a level. With both of them still in mid-air, Aria gained control of her body and climbed on top of the knight. Just before they hit the ground, she put all of her weight on her knees and crushed them against her opponent's shoulders. Gripped with pain, the young Dark Elf clenched his teeth, with his eyes opened wide. From her wounded wrist, another burst of blood gushed out.

"The Abyss Walker of the greatest power is�"

While pressing down the knight's shoulders with both of her knees, strangling his neck with her left hand, she pulled another dagger from inside her boot. The bright red blood spilling out of her left arm covered the knight's face in red. Without hesitation, she brought the dagger to the knight's neck.

"�the one who walked in Hell for 500 years."

At that moment, as if she were falling on top of the young knight's head, she rolled her body. A burning excruciating pain traveled down her spine and filled her entire body. From this new wound, something lukewarm spilled out and soaked her armor and undergarments, which gave her an eerily vivid sensation.

The arrow of "Crow Feather" was surprisingly quiet. Aria was only able to detect its faint wind-like sound when it was very close to her. Once she was outside, it was hopeless for her to look for a safe place to protect her from an arrow. She stood up and ran for her life. Although she could not see or hear it, she knew that an arrow was flying directly towards her. After kicking a wall and hanging down from a tree branch like a cat, in one swoop, she sent her body over the wall. The last arrow struck her in the back.

-----------------------------------

"Sir Scride!"

The Bladedancer from the cold northern manor stared blankly at the mercenary guide he had hired. He was Esen, a Phantom Ranger, known by the nickname "Crow Feather" among the Orcs and mercenaries of Ruhn.

His body betrayed the will of its owner. Both shoulders screamed with a grinding sensation of bone against bone. He felt nauseous, as though his intestines were being twisted. His lungs breathed discordantly, as if playing an Orcish marching song. Overwhelmed with all of these sensations, his head throbbed as though about to explode.

"Oh, my!" When the Phantom Ranger saw the back of his employer's neck, he dropped the object he was carrying, ran to his employer and sat down next to him. Scride could only manage to raise his right hand.

"It's all right. The blood is not mine."

Scride thought that in order to forget the pain, he would rather pass out or try to focus on something else. But the former would only make him look weak. So, instead he posed a question to the Phantom Ranger.

"Did you get her?"

The Phantom Ranger shook his head in shame and pointed to the item he brought. It was blood-soaked leather armor, torn to pieces from the recent struggle. He slowly explained how "FirstMatter", with an arrow stuck in her body, still eluded him and ran away.

"A ranger, unable to catch an injured woman� I'm so ashamed of myself."

Scride wanted to shake his head sideways but when he heard an awful noise come from his shoulders, he decided against it.

"Without you, my head would be rolling around at your feet by now."

Sitting beside Scride, the Phantom Ranger quietly began to sort the arrows he had gathered. Since his arrows were not bought with money but were custom-made, he treated them like rare treasures. He divided about thirty arrows into groups that were either still usable, needed repair, or to be discarded. The Phantom Ranger put them back into his quiver and spoke again.

"Then should I continue the hunt?"























Chapter IV: Age of Splendor - Martien (1)
Originally, Dion was not a rich manor. There were no expansive tracks of farmland. With the exception of Mandragora, there was no unique local product. Mandragoras were mainly bought by Wizards, Shamans or Herbalists. Considering the risk of growing it, the amount of profit the crop generated was not much. The Mandragoras' blood was wildly strewn by Duke Byron Ashton. The lord of the manor considered them only a source of headache, rather than an asset of any value. Since trade with nearby manors or other countries was mainly done through Giran Harbor in the South, it was hard to expect much profit.

As a human, Duke Byron Ashton was a terrible failure. Others said the worst mistake he ever made was believing he could improve the finances of his castle and manor by squeezing the poverty-stricken farmers. The farmers fought hard against him by rising up, armed only with rakes, hoes, sickles and pitch forks. The duke ruthlessly executed the rioting farmers with spear, sword and guillotine. When the number of farmers he could exploit dwindled, the Duke even tried to sell his daughter to King Amadeo Cadmus.

Around that time, the era of chaos began, and people who dreamt of war came to Dion. They were thugs who had no loyalty to any country or manor. They overflowed with lust for power and uncontrollable ambition. It was not long before one of them beheaded Duke Byron Ashton and took over his castle.

Even if a goblin were crowned and danced upon the throne, the farmers of the manor would have been so happy they would have hugged each other and wept with joy. They enthusiastically welcomed the arrival of the new lord of the manor. However, when the era of war began, or even after it ended and the Age of Splendor began, the residents' pockets did not get heavy overnight - Dion was still a poor manor where downtrodden residents lived.

The new lord of the manor firmly resolved to raise adena. He started a construction project to build a strange looking building in a vacant section of the village. Then he dispatched mercenaries and soldiers everywhere to catch monsters. After that, the only thing to do was to tame the captured monsters.

"Go, Wind Rider, go! Try harder! Faster, faster! Oh, mother!"

The Monster Race Track was crowded with many people. Every movement the monsters made, the crowd reacted, either with joy or sorrow. Along with the names of unknown gods, all sorts of blessings and curses spilled from their mouths. But the amount of adena they so willingly used for their bets gave Dion manor and its residents some hope of escaping the poverty long inherited from previous generations.

"Go! Go! Go! That little rabbit can't catch up with you! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

With the winner decided, surging throngs moved wildly, like waves in a high wind. Some of them tore up and threw down their worthless tickets, while others cheered and hugged whoever happened to be nearby. Some of them suppressed smiles, hiding their joy from others, while secretly checking the numbers on their tickets again and again.

Martien, the owner of the South Sea Store, was one of those who jumped about until finally knocking down the person he was embracing. Then he ran to cash in his ticket, cautiously avoiding the scrutiny of others.

"Congratulations, Mr. Martien."

The race manager smiled and casually checked Martien's ticket. From this winning, the race track had to actually give out a significant sum of money. But her face showed no displeasure. Not because she didn't care if her organization suffered a loss. The profits the race track made were significant enough that they could treat Martien's prize money as only a minor write-off.

"My eyes met the eyes of the unicorn in the paddock and my heart almost stopped beating!"

"Really? Why?"

"Because her eyes looked like my mother's eyes."

She laughed aloud, and then her facial expression seemed to imply, "How silly." She handed him a sizable bag of gold coins.

"After deducting taxes, your prize comes to 328,000 adena. Please double-check the amount and sign the receipt."

When he did not quickly reach his hand out to receive the bag, she looked at him with a puzzled expression. Martien took two steps back and looked up at the racing timetable dreamily. A moment later, he spoke again to the race manager, his voice filled with excitement.

"Look!" He raised his finger and pointed to the bulletin board, although it couldn't be seen from where she was sitting. "It says right there that in the next race the odds are 204 times. What does that mean? My mother - I mean, Wind Rider is running in this race, correct?"

While organizing race tickets into bundles, she briefly answered, "That's because it will lose for sure."

"What?"

With a sudden glimmer in her eyes, she started to speak. "Think about it. It's a double to win, right? But you cannot win. Cyclone Thunder, in the third lane, is a great prospect that has been very popular lately. In addition, lane two, six, seven and eight - I'm sorry to say this about your mother - but their level is way beyond hers. I think somebody made a mistake to include such a sluggard. Although I shouldn't say this out loud, the odds of her winning the race would be..." She used her thumb and index finger to show Martien, "not even this much."

Martien, whose face had gradually turned red, retorted with an anger-filled voice. "Hey! You're out of line talking about my mother like that!"

"Why are you raising your voice? I was just telling you what other people are saying. Please calm down, Mr. Martien."

With that, she calmly went back to work, sorting the race tickets.

"There is no guarantee that she will always lose. Today, she seemed to be in good condition. When I saw her eyes earlier today, they were burning up with firm resolve to win, no matter what! I believe she will surprise us with her performance in the next race!"

"What's the point of deciphering the eyes of an ant larva? Mr. Martien, you're Human, aren't you?"

"Be quiet! Because of your nonsense, it has now become clear to me! I have made up my mind that today will be a very special day for me, one that will completely turn my life around!"

For a moment, Martien looked up at the sky above the race track. Like bubbles in a sewer hole, clouds started to gather, blocking the sun. When the wind began to blow in the forest surrounding the race track, leaves of grass flew up in the air with a soothing, calm breeze. For a very brief moment, totally isolated even from the noise of the race track, Martien was gripped by the notion that he was looking directly at something absolutely unchangeable. Martien decided that when he looked back at this moment later in his life, he would call it the Time of Revelation.










Chapter V: Age of Splendor - Scride
"I've done this for over 30 years. It will be done in no time. After getting a customer ready, you poke them with a needle a few times, then it's done. Anyway, the real problem is that�"

The symbol maker sat on a stool, took out a pipe from his pocket and put it in his mouth.

With a leisurely motion, he stuffed tobacco leaves into his pipe and set it afire with a cinder. As he puffed on his pipe, bluish smoke flowed from his nostrils. In the darkened room, the smoke slowly moved up towards the ceiling and danced around in snake-like patterns.

"You dislocated your right shoulder and collarbone. Two or three ribs seem to be fractured, as well. Ah, your pelvic bone is also cracked. Even after they are all completely healed, you will have aches during rainy weather."

The wick of the lamp made crackling sounds, while outside the window an ominous rumbling sound emanated from the sky. Soon it started to drizzle with night rain. Inside, the room fell into an absolute silence. Scride blurted out his response after a bit of a delay.

"You're talking like a doctor."

While still biting the pipe in his mouth, the symbol maker mixed magic dyes in a flask. When the gold and silver liquid were mixed together, it became transparent. He dropped a blood-red dye into the liquid, which began to shine brilliantly. The liquid changed to purple, indigo and then finally to black. The symbol maker held the flask in his hand as though it were a bottle of fine liquor and shook it briskly. Soon, the liquid became transparent again.

"The abilities of the human body are finite. You have to sacrifice one ability to obtain another. The essence of a symbol is balance - within the limits of destroying your body. You have to draw out a certain ability, while also minimizing the side-effects that are always generated in this process. That is the technique of symbol making, the most important aspect of this work. Only novices try to create the strongest power or the fastest speed, without considering anything else. People like that often end up engraving a Symbol of Death."

The symbol maker stopped for a moment and inhaled his smoke deeply. Blowing it through his nostrils and mouth, he resumed talking.

"What you need to know is that nowadays, we are about two or three levels higher than most doctors. This is because we have a keen understanding of how the human body works and the principles behind it."

Scride emerged from the exam table on which he had been lying. Since the table was typically used for making symbols, it was worn out, had spots of various colors, and smelled unpleasant.

"I realize you are a capable person," Scride made an effort to button his shirt only with his right hand and then gave up. "But, what are you trying to say to me?"

"You are in very serious condition. Although you are an Orc who looks like a Dark Elf, I can only guarantee recovery from your injuries if you agree to rest for at least two weeks."

Scride had a strange attitude that cannot be characterized in either Dark Elf or Human terms. Was it because he had lived in a Human territory, killed Humans, while serving a Human lord? Scride shook his head and smiled. He was about to say something when he heard the sound of a strider snorting nearby. Outside, someone dismounted and walked towards them. Esen looked at the Symbol Maker as though he were checking his reaction.

"I don't have any customers reserved at this hour."

The mysterious visitor lifted the rain-soaked hood of his raincoat and looked up and down at the building that contained Scride, Esen and the Symbol Maker. He seemed to be trying to decide if it was where he needed to go. He started towards the building.

As Esen noticed the visitor was a male Human, he decided the purpose of his visit was not to attack them. He glanced at the Symbol Maker again, who nodded his head with irritation, still holding the pipe in his mouth. Esen opened the door for the visitor before he knocked, catching him by surprise. He raised his hand with an embarrassed air, then strode as though he were a vagabond just returning home. Although he looked a little gaunt at first glance, his gait exuded a strange air of ferocity. His skin was relatively pale, but it was difficult to guess his age, due to countless wrinkles and small scars criss-crossing his face. Esen felt the visitor was extremely wary, as he stood behind him.

"Did you close the door?" the Symbol Maker grunted.

The visitor pretended not to understand and looked back at the door he had just entered. When Esen pushed the door with the tip of his foot, it closed with a loud thud. When their eyes met, the visitor grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Esen eyed his bow and quiver in a corner of the room.

The visitor spoke to Esen's employer. "Are you Scride, the Knight of Pavel?"

The owner of the house looked offended at being flatly ignored. Scride also showed displeasure, realizing everyone always seemed to already know him.

"Who are you?"

"Oh great! I wasn't sure. You came a long way, eh? You look very different from another Dark Elf I know, who is a total basket case."

"Once again, who are you?"

The air in the room seemed to turn to ice. Esen was torn between the idea of grabbing his bow or pulling out the dagger in his belt. At the same time, he suspected the visitor might be hiding something inside his raincoat. However, nothing happened.

"Very well, Sir. This servant of yours is called Gustin. My master is a very noble person, but I just carry out some trivial errands. My master said that he was very grateful to the loyal support and cooperation your lord has provided and sent me to offer you a little help. Heh, heh, heh!"

It was obvious that his speech was filled with sarcasm. Scride spoke without blinking an eye.

"I don't need any help from a servant, or whatever you are. I don't know who your master is, but say whatever it is you have to say, and then be off with you."

Gustin clenched his teeth. Esen felt some sympathy for him. If an Orc were to receive such a rebuff, a fight would have ensued, that would have lasted until only one of them was left standing. Only a Human would endure an insult to such a degree.

"I heard that the woman you have been chasing has gone to the Manor of Water."

"Why should I believe you?"

"There is no reason that you shouldn't believe me."

Scride looked at his Human visitor for a while. Some say that the eyes are the window to the soul, but the pupils of Scride's eyes looked like bottomless wells.

"Is your master the Witness of Prophecy?"

"Oh, my!" Clicking his tongue, Gustin turned his gaze to the Symbol Maker. "You found me out. You shouldn't have said it aloud, though. Thanks to you, no one will have symbols engraved on them here in Giran for a while. My master told me to execute those who spread evil heathen customs like yours."

The blade of a sword with a bluish gleam suddenly appeared from the visitor's raincoat. An unexpected torrent of vile curses spewed from the mouth of the Symbol Maker as he picked up the largest needle for symbol making within reach on the floor.

"You Bishop's mongrel! Would you like me to carve out a heart symbol for you?"

Gustin smiled coolly and gave a broad grin showing his teeth.

"With both your arms cut off, I wonder how you will do such a thing."

Without clearly knowing why, Esen felt he needed to help the Symbol Maker. However, he was just a hired hand and couldn't tell what was on the mind of his employer. Scride used his uninjured right arm to lift the three legged stool and throw it down with a loud crash upon Gustin's head.

"What are you doing!" Gustin screamed in anger. "This is none of your concern!"

"I don't like your master." Looking at Scride's wrinkled brow and the Sumbol Maker's concerned expression, Esen realized his patient's right shoulder was dislocated again. "I don't like the way the two of you behave, either," he said, with a voice devoid of any emotion.

Blood gushed from Gustin's forehead, traveling past the wrinkled corners of his eyes and protruding cheekbones, reaching his mouth. A quivering sound leaked from Gustin's throat, but it was hard to tell if he were sniffling or snikering.

"Dark Elves are all the same. You can't help yourselves. Even when you are about to die, you have to show your temper!" Gustin muttered darkly. Rather than address the others in the room, he was actually talking to himself. "But, what would your master say? Humans are much more complicated and cunning creatures!"

"I guess you don't love your master," Scride mocked him with laughter. "I truly feel sorry for you."

Gripped by a sense of defeat, Gustin left, unable to take the Symbol Maker's life. Some time later, Scride received another painful treatment that lasted several hours. Afterwards, he told Esen to leave for Innadril. Gustin may yet have the opportunity to satisfy his cheap desire for revenge. Esen thought that if the gloomy Human were there to witness the ordeal of Scride's treatment, even he would have found no joy in it.








Chapter VI: Age of Splendor - Martien (2)
A cat pounced on a wolf. It happened in a dream, but it also happened in real life. Like a circus clown, the cat did a somersault in the air and landed on the back of the wolf. The wolf growled loudly and turned on the cat. A wasp saw what happened and danced wildly, flying in a figure-eight pattern against the sun. A shadow beast ran towards the finish line, with a unicorn following close behind. Further behind, a little white rabbit and a strange-looking clockwork doll with a clock embedded in its belly ran after them.

"Isn't one missing?"

Back at the starting gate, a dust-covered caterpillar wriggled forward. In the afternoon, cicadas chirped loudly from the trees near the racetrack, as if to cheer for the caterpillar.

"Stop it!" Someone screamed and hurled a glass bottle. It hit Martien's head and bounced off, flying onto the racetrack, landing on the back of the caterpillar. It curled its body into a ball and rolled itself into the next lane, which was probably a better racing tactic, all things considered.

"Ah, Brother! Are you okay?"

"Come on! Come on! Over the Top! You can do it! Wind Rider! Go! Go!"

At the front of the pack, the unicorn and the shadow beast competed heatedly for first place. Covered in snow, the unicorn ran frantically. The two beasts ran side by side for a while. Slowly, the unicorn gained on the shadow beast.

The caterpillar continued to roll down the lane in its spherical shape, until it was run over by the clockwork doll's small single-drive wheel. The doll fell forward and the flame from the torch that the doll was holding kindled the wick attached to its head.

Tick tick tick... BOOM!

The doll exploded, throwing its wheel into the crowd of spectators. Parts of the doll's body flew into the decorative sign above the racetrack's main gate. The doll's droll-faced head bounced past the finish line with a loud clatter, distracting the already confused crowd's attention.

All eyes turned to another round object flying in the air across the racetrack. The caterpillar barrelled ahead of the unicorn, like a nightmarish orb on some mad, ill-fated mission.

The sun blazed down upon the white unicorn, speeding along at full gait, as if chasing after something long forgotten. The shadow beast was once a ravenous predator of the night, more accustomed to ripping apart the fabric separating this world from that of the spirits. Presently, it continued the chase for the sheer anticipation of capturing its assumed prey, the unicorn.

"Pounce on it now? Not now. Just a little closer..."

"The first arrival: lane number five, Over the Top! The second arrival: lane number four, Wind Rider!"

A tremendous tumult of victorious screams, curses and laments congealed to generate a raucous uproar that seemed to shake all of Dion. The torn up pieces of race tickets the spectators threw away flew about the racetrack like confetti. A few wolves loitering about the racetrack were startled by the noise and ran away with a flurry.

The crowd pushed together tightly, wildly shaking the wooden rails that separated the spectator area from the racetrack. The wooden rails finally collapsed. A few unfortunates were buried in the wreckage and trampled as the rest of the crowd disappeared from view. Some spectators rushed to the monsters and their owners, but were soon restrained by mercenaries hired by the racetrack.

While hugging, kissing and dancing around with whomever happened to be standing next to him, Martien burned with a religious fervor so powerful that he could have instantly converted to the clergy. He was deeply grateful to the being who bestowed upon him the Time of Revelation.

He hereby determined that from this day forward he would perform many works of charity in an effort to become a respected member of the community. He would also be generous to his subordinates, who had long suffered financial hardships. "I will obtain a cozy clan hall and buy them all shiny, high-quality weapons!" he promised to himself.

Across the lanes, he saw a female Dwarf near the offices of the racetrack, fending herself from the guards attempting to restrain her. She pointed to the finish line, complaining about something. Well, since the result was totally unexpected by everyone, it was understandable for someone to become upset. Martien even felt sorry for her.

A little later, the judges gathered around the Dwarf, and before all was said and done, even the highest-ranking officials were called down into the fray. Huddling together, they shook their heads and argued for a while. Finally, they seemed to reach a concensus.

"Attention! We have an announcement to make." A race manager stood at the center of the racetrack, shouting in a booming voice. "We have corrected an error that was made when we announced the winner for the 12th race."

Silence seemed to rule the whole world.

"The first arrival was lane number one, Light My Fire! The second arrival was lane number five, Over The Top!"

"Master, the mercenaries were all killed."

"According to the rules of the Monster Race, when any part of a participating monster's body crosses the finish line, that monster is considered to have crossed the finish line. Therefore, we have determined that Light My Fire, whose head first crossed the finish line, won the race. We would also like to inform you that those who bet on Wind Rider, the third arrival, and missed your fortune by a very narrow margin, will be given a lottery ticket as a token of our goodwill. The winner of that lottery will be drawn tomorrow."

"... I guess they didn't catch the woman."

"... I'm ruined."

In the blue afternoon sky, a brilliant sun sent golden beams down like indiscriminate arrows.

"Why would you want to read the eyes of an ant larva? Aren't you a Human?" While sorting tickets, the race manager seemed to ask no one in particular.

"Let me give you a lottery ticket as a token of solace. Missed it by this much!" The female Dwarf said as she lifted the ruined doll head.

"Come over here, Sir. It's a lot of fun."

In the red-carpeted VIP room located at one side of the coliseum, Sir Athebalt and his guards danced about like clumsy Orcs. When his eyes met those of Martien, he flew into the air and shook his waist while drawing the shape of a figure-eight.

"Hey, would you like to meet an angel?" He asked, looking down from above Martien's head.

"This is all because of you," the unicorn said with sad eyes. "Why didn't you become an angel as I told you? When you were young, you were such an angelic child!"

"In order to become an angel, you have to train for three years in Cedric's Training Hall, another three years at the Ivory Tower and then another three years in the Servitor's Village. After completing all that, you must still win a game of chess against Hardin! It also takes a lot of money!"

Martien wanted to run with abandon in the opposite direction of the sun. While he was thinking that he wanted to run and run, he suddenly realized he was already running and howling like a crazed animal. The startled crowd hurriedly moved out of his way, yelling and cursing at him. "Ouch!" A young female Dark Elf that Martien collided with moaned with a somewhat seductive voice. With a bewildered expression on her face, she stood there for a while and looked around her. "Ms. Leirynn! Ms. Leirynn! Where are you?"

"El! El! I told you not to wander around on your own, didn't I? It's very crowded here. You can easily get into trouble, and then what are you going to do? A place like this attracts a lot of weird characters!"

Although someone who looked like the young female Dark Elf's companion showed up a few steps away, the young female did not open her eyes and continued to hold steadfastly onto her cane.

"Yes, the person in front of me is acting strange. I think he went crazy after losing his money."

"You shouldn't talk like that about a person while he is right in front of you!" The young female's companion was an ordinary-looking female warrior. She wore light armor and carried a sword. She looked Martien up and down and added, "He does look like he has lost his mind."

"Huh? Does he really?"

Something exploded inside Martien's head. This was a terrible nightmare. While screaming ugly things that would go well with his nightmare, he turned on the girl, blubbering loudly. He felt a terrible pain between his legs like he was pierced by a spear and crumpled into a ball.

"Oh wow, that must hurt." The girl and her companion looked down at Martien, who was writhing on the ground. "He was hit by the Staff of Evil Sprit! If he can never function as a man, will you take responsibility for it? We told you not to make trouble!"

"When someone attacks you, they should be willing to receive a counter-attack. Wouldn't you agree?"

"What kind of ignorance is that? You're older than me. Don't you even have a shred of sympathy?"

"What about you? If you have such great sympathy, why don't you even make a gesture to help me up. Here I am, in pain on the ground!" The words pushed up to his throat, coming out as a muffled groan. The companion put both hands on her waist with a perplexed expression and looked alternately at the girl and Martien. Then, with a sigh, she turned her back on them both.

"Let's go back. Our captain must be worried about us."

The girl seemed confused, looking left and right. Then she slightly lifted her rather imposing staff. Martien, who still sat on the ground, was startled by her action and quickly put his legs together. The girl bent on one knee and carefully groped the ground around herself. Her hand touched Martien's foot.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"I am sorry about everything. I thought you were trying to attack me. Are you still in pain?" The girl bowed her head deeply to him and added as an afterthought, "What are you going to do if you cannot function as a man anymore?"

At a loss for words, Martien opened and closed his mouth without uttering a word. It suddenly occurred to him that the girl was blind. She was shaking the tip of his foot with a worried look.

"Are you badly hurt? If you haven't lost consciousness, please answer me!"

"Ah, I'm, ah, okay... down there."

She sighed deeply with relief.

"Is she really a Dark Elf? For a Dark Elf, she has incredibly diverse expressions." As soon as he was thinking that, Martien noticed her expression darken.

"Something bad must have happened to you. But it's dangerous to attack someone like that." He thought the girl was going to reprimand him for trying to hit a blind girl. But that was not it. "I could have been a murderer who enjoys killing Humans for sport, for all you knew. Were that the case, your limbs would be scattered about and your heart would be bouncing up and down over there."

Her wild imagination reminded him of illustrations from some bloody fairy tale. Martien shook his head, regretting his irrational behavior. He tried to explain why he ran around the racetrack in such a frenzy. Martien was extremely embarrassed. If the girl were not firmly holding onto his foot, he felt for sure he would have run away screaming once again.

After listening to his story, the girl fell into a contemplative state. Rummaging through her shirt, she took out a piece of paper. Martien became distracted by the Dark Elf's well-developed bosom. He quickly looked at her face, then looked away, remembering that she was blind. He looked at her again, but was disappointed to find she had already adjusted her clothing.

The girl patted him to find his hand and told him, while placing the paper in his hand, "Here, take this."

-----------------------------------

After waking from his sleep, Martien carefully opened the piece of paper he was holding. The surface of the road was uneven, causing the wagon to shake wildly. Afraid of losing the paper, Martien held it with both hands.

"Brother, are you looking at it again?"

"Yes."

His man let out a sigh and switched his gaze to the window of the coach. His mind was troubled by the sixty-million adena that evaporated, thanks to the evil mischief of the gods.

"Sir Gustaf Athebaldt said that if you failed again this time, he would let you meet with an angel. You must feel the same as I do, don't you brother?"

"Yes."

The thing that Martien received from the girl was a ticket that correctly named the winner of the nightmarish 12th race. Written on the paper was a monetary figure that seemed to be a month's allowance for the blind girl. She had given him the paper in an effort to make amends for an injury she mistakenly thought would prevent him from functioning as a man, and promptly left. Having missed the chance to explain himself, Martien felt a little guilty at the thought of selling his sexual identity for money. But was that all he was worried about?

The wagon rushed forward at breakneck speed towards the capital city of Aden. When the traces of their conversation had almost faded from his mind, Martien suddenly opened his mouth.

"If a goddess suddenly appeared in front of our eyes, she might be in the form of such a thing."

"What?" The voice of his man clearly showed irritation over this foolish talk.

"It's blind, unfeeling and severe, but also filled with good intentions."

"That's certainly a philosophical way of looking at things, isn't it?" Martien's man folded his arms and buried his shoulders in the back of his seat.

Thanks to the coachman who put forth every ounce of his energy and skill, they were already past the White Tower of Wizards. "Oh!" the man who was looking out the window lightly exclaimed. A huge, gray pillar appeared on the horizon. The top of the pillar was buried in the clouds, invisible. In the past, it was a bridge that connected the heavens and the earth. But it had long since been cut off.

"Brother, that's the Tower of Insolence."









































Chapter VII: Age of Splendor - Aria (2)
"Go and report that we found the woman."

Shadow Fang slew all the mercenaries who were searching for the holy ark. Six days after Aria FirstMatter disappeared from the streets of Giran, she showed up again in Innadril. Sir Gustaf Athebaldt, knight of Aden kingdom and head of the historic Athebaldt family, hired several mercenary units to find her. They found a Dark Elf at the Heine Wharf who fit her description.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. When I last saw her, her hair was tied in back. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world."

The ocean breeze and southern sun must have loosened the vigilance of the Abyss Walker, who was supposedly the most powerful around. She strolled among the exotic street items and novelty toys the dwarves made with skillful hands. When she entered a more extravagant area, she bowed respectfully toward the display cases. Meanwhile, several members joined the team of pursuers.

"Isn't this enough manpower? Why don't we get her now? If we wait any longer, others may come this way."

Did she find something she liked from a display case? While her trackers hesitated, Aria stopped in front of a clothing shop by the canal for a moment, then disappeared into the store. About three or four mercenaries also entered behind her, pretending they were customers.

The store carried armor and various types of equipment for adventurers, in addition to beautiful garments for classy ladies and gentlemen. The two types of customers were not always clearly distinguishable. For example, one can often observe the sons and daughters of rich merchant families admiring shiny armor, or female warriors engrossed in front of satin dresses. Inside, the store was noisier than the mercenaries had expected. They were thrown off-guard by the surprisingly large number of customers in the store.

"Where is the female Dark Elf who just came in here?"

One of the mercenaries grabbed the store owner by the throat. The unafraid Elf calmly gestured toward three Dark Elves, who glared back at them fiercely. Aria FirstMatter was not among them.

One of the mercenaries sent a signal and several of them rushed into the store at once. Some of the customers screamed, while some scowled with irritation. The mercenaries were a little discouraged to realize that some of the customers carried sturdy objects that could be used as weapons against those who disturbed their shopping sprees. However, the customers did not attack them. Surely, their joyful shopping experiences would have been ruined for the day, so the customers seemed to suppress their irritation as much as possible.

"Is there a back door?"

Shoving aside boxes piled inside the store, a few mercenaries found a door in the back and walked outside. Gulls soared across a clear blue sky while gondolas leisurely glided on the peacefully flowing canal. Noble ladies dressed in white shielded their heads with parasols, enjoying graceful promenades without knowledge or interest in the mercenaries' activities.

One mercenary crossed the store, approached the fitting stalls and violently pulled off one of the curtains. Standing inside was a terrified female, about to burst into tears. The other mercenaries pulled off the second and third curtains of the fitting stalls.

The moment they pulled off the second curtain, a piercing scream pounded the eardrums of all the people in the store. A tiny trembling female Dwarf scrambled to cover her almost nude body with a tunic. When the mercenaries looked inside the third one, they froze like frogs facing a snake. A huge male Orc stood there naked, glaring at them with fierce eyes. The Orc must have been in the process of changing. On the shelf was a pile of tattered clothes and a pair of iron gloves.

The unfortunate mercenary who tore off the curtain gazed at the awesome abdominal muscles and huge green chest covered with scars. He should have stopped his gaze right there, but the mercenary looked further down. When he managed to look back up again, his eyes me those of the Orc. He wanted to apologize, but instead his lips twisted into a foolish-looking grin. He attempted to return the curtain he was still holding, but it fell unrequited to the floor.

"Uh, sir. I think there has been some misunderstanding." The mercenary's tongue betrayed him. The tattoo engraved on the Orc's head crumpled into an odd design. Green fists, bigger than a child's head, clasped in front of the mercenary's eyes, as the Orc made an ominous sound.

"That store seems very busy today. Perhaps some new fabrics from Avella have arrived. Would you like to go take a look, My Lady?" The gondolier viewed "Espen & Verona's Boutique" with narrowed eyes. He seemed motivated to satisfy his own curiosity rather than that of his customer.

"No, I don't like going into crowded places," the woman replied. The gondolier seemed somewhat disappointed, but like one typical of Innadril, he started to hum a tune. The wind blowing over the river was unusually cool and refreshing, and the customer who had suddenly boarded his boat gave him a generous fare. Having a female Dark Elf aristocrat as one's customer was also a rare experience that he could later brag about to his fellow gondoliers.

"Where can I take you, My Lady?"

Aria FirstMatter gathered her skirt, covered her ankles and lifted her head. She held a parasol that protected her against the strong sunlight. When the gondola passed under one of the countless bridges of Heine, she folded the parasol and brushed her hair back with her fingers.

Although she was tempted to stay in her current location under the bridge, she felt her pursuers were still too close for comfort. She looked around and pointed to another bridge above the canal about two blocks away.

As soon as he received her answer, he skillfully pushed his pole, sending the gondola forward. Aria felt the tension in her body slip away a little at a time. She thought it would be good if she could just enjoy her cruise on the canal without any worries.

A little later, when the gondola arrived at the destination, the gondolier silently put the pole in its place and waited. Perhaps the bag of gold coins she threw to him helped him become an easygoing and pleasant person. She felt tired from being pursued relentlessly, so his consideration was a welcome luxury. Aria did not become upset even when Piriel Aurura showed up half an hour later than their appointed meeting time.

"Finally! How am I supposed to find you in a place like this?"

"You're a Scavenger." Aria replied briefly. After a moment, she added, "By the way, your scream was excellent, as usual."

"The trick is to put your heart into your voice. Once you realize this, even you can do it."

Piriel jumped from the bridge into the gondola. If the gondolier had not skillfully manipulated his pole to balance the boat, they would have been showered with water from the impact. Although Aria regarded this Dwarf highly in terms of her skills, she was generally annoyed by her personality.

After Aria expressed her desire to tour the entire waterways of the city, the gondola started to move again. As soon as they were out of the shadows under the bridge, the sun greeted them with a welcoming smile. Aria unfolded her parasol again to shield her skin. The gondolier introduced different places along the way, as the gondola traveled at a leisurely pace.

"You caused an inconvenience to other people, doing what you did."

With a grunt, the Dwarf pulled her backpack, which was bigger than herself, onto the floor of the gondola. The boat bobbed up and down from the weight, once again.

"I know, you're right."

The Dwarf started unpacking her provisions. Aria had always been surprised by Dwarves' ability to carry great loads on their shoulders. On the battlefield, she even witnessed a Dwarf use the supplies from his backpack to equip all the soldiers of one unit with armor and long swords, as well as to feed them. She guessed this was the reason Dwarves do not grow in height as they grow older.

"By the way, Espen was moping around whining to me. If perverts hear rumors about Dwarves and Orcs geting naked and wild in his store, they will flock to it. It would ruin his business."

Piriel finally found the item she had been searching for in her backpack. She blew on it and polished it with her sleeve. It was a glass flask containing some dark red substance. Arial could tell that it was old, dried-up blood. Before handing over the Blood of Saints, Piriel seemed to have suddenly realized something and spoke.

"I know that this is a funny question to ask a Dark Elf, but I'm still going to ask it. Your complexion doesn't look so good today. Your face is deathly pale. Am I right?"

"Yes," Aria willingly agreed, quite unexpectedly. "I was severely attacked by two men from the north."

Piriel clucked her tongue and said, "Because of those damnable relics, two innocent lives have perished." Aria put away the Blood of Saints, with a peculiar expression on her face. Piriel became startled and spoke loudly. "Don't tell me! You let them live? What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing. And don't talk to me like I am some kind of murderer, all right?" Recently, some emotions had been churning inside Aria and she found herself expressing them aloud before she could suppress the urge.

"I must have become weak," she decided. "Although I may look young, I have lived in the same era as that crazed monster who's locked in the tower. I feel like an old hag whose insides have rotted away."

"One thing is for sure," Piriel took out her pipe and put it in her mouth. "Both you and I cannot claim to be young sprites any longer."

Piriel was going to take out her tinderbox, but realized she had put it at the bottom of her bag. The gondolier, silent up to that point, took out a burning twig from the box of coals on his belt and gave it to her. While still holding the pipe in her mouth, Piriel brightly smiled at the gondolier and lowered her head.

"If that's what you think, perhaps you should quit this line of work." After giving it a little more thought, Piriel added, "What you really want to do is meet up with that crazy guy in the tower and talk about old times."

Aria snickered. "I can't deny I've thought about it."

"It is the privilege of old ones like us to let young ones work while we sit back and watch."

When Piriel said this, the gondolier could not hold himself back any longer and let out a laugh. From Human standards, she looked like a girl of about ten years old at most, but she sounded too mature for her age.

"That is a cowardly act of escaping reality."

"What's wrong with that?" Piriel mumbled while looking at the office of the Commerce Guild across the canal. "Some elderly humans often talk like that. Such as Heine, Athebaldt, and yes, Rodemai too."

Aria shook her head with a sad and tired face.

"This work should be done by our own hands. The youth are our hope for the future."

Piriel snickered.

"Don't be mistaken. Whether you cause a problem or fix it, you should do it on your own. I would say that at least half your motive is to save your old boyfriend. I know you are anxious to get rid of Tetrarch Thifiell. Honestly, I don't entirely disagree with his mode of conduct. After all, what's wrong with Dark Elves allying themselves with Elves? Equality for everyone, I say. Happiness for all! It's even written in Maphr's Tablet."

"Perhaps we have talked too much," thought Aria. A chasm clearly existed between Dark Elves and Elves. Piriel did not force the point any further. However, when Aria handed her the money, the Dwarf uttered an unexpected remark.

"Be careful of your own people, now that you don't have many allies left."

Aria already knew that. What surprised her was the fact that this seemingly cold-blooded Dwarf was concerned for her safety.

"Humph." Rather than expressing gratitude, Aria responded sarcastically. "You should worry for your own welfare. I also heard who the Black Anvil is desperately chasing."

"I think that Master Brikus and Magister Xenovia of the Dark Elven Guild were also ordered to terminate you on sight. The two who attacked you earlier must be heading this way by now. Younger members of your own profession have also showed up in this city's back alleys. I mean the Abyss Walkers. Even when you cry over your own weaknesses, I can't help you. Understand?"

"I know."

The sun slowly sank below the skyline, then disappeared beneath bridges in the distance. The canal was a ruby river tinged with brilliant red light. Aria felt glad that in this water city of humans and elves, beauty could even be felt by Dark Elves such as herself. The Dwarf turned to her and suddenly flung her arms around Aria's neck. Their difference in height made this an even more awkward gesture. Piriel buried her face into Aria's belly. She resisted her initial urge to toss the Dwarf out of the gondola and stopped her arm in mid-air. She didn't know how to handle a situation like this, nor did she comprehend Piriel's true intention.

"Don't� Die� Okay?"

The Dark Elf put her right hand on the Dwarf's head. She wanted to caress it, but didn't know quite how to go about it. After a moment, she slowly pushed the Dwarf away.

"I told you I feel weaker than my old self." Aria attempted to stand up, but the gondolier quickly motioned her to sit back down. Instead of obeying him, she slowly started to undress. The gondolier quickly looked away, but this wasn't necessary. Underneath her dress, she wore leather armor. "That's all I meant to say."

She noticed another bridge approaching and slowly turned around, showing her back to the Dwarf and gondolier.

"Whether the enemy is one or many, Human or Dark Elf, young or old..."

Aria FirstMatter gathered her hair and tied it into a pony tail.

"I am still, at least up until this point, the most powerful."

Then, like the shadow of a bird passing overhead, she suddenly disappeared.









Chapter VIII: Age of Splendor - Martien (3)
Countless aristocrats and saints have been buried in the Cemetery of Aden. The tombstone that Martien touched was hidden in a small area of the forest, surrounded by tall trees thick with needles. A few years ago, when Martien first visited this grave, he had the impression that the cemetery was a clean and spacious place. However, he realized that this was only due to its large scale.

"The only grave keepers in this place are those freakish creatures."

Martien and his men held their collective breath as a huge creature whose upper body was that of a female human and lower body was that of a snake slithered away silently. They did not move until the beast completely disappeared from sight. The keepers of this graveyard, unpaid and sleepless, burned with equal hostility toward unfortunate grave robbers and innocent visitors alike. They infested this place around the time when the war between Elmore and Aden broke out. Aden sent as many soldiers as possible, neglecting this vast graveyard. Near the war's end, some argued that the safety of the cemetery should be maintained. However, it was too vast. In order to completely drive the monsters from the cemetery, they would need enough manpower to build a castle. So, a plan for maintaining the cemetery was pushed down the list of priorities. By the time the war had ended, the plan itself was lost.

Once all traces of other creatures had completely disappeared, Martien's attention was again drawn to the small tombstone. "I wonder what kind of person is buried here? Surely, they must have been highly distinguished. Only such persons could be buried in this cemetery." But they could not have been a member of the royal family. A separate section was designated for those of the royal family, and it was still completely preserved. So they must have been someone dignified enough to have their name mentioned in the annals of history. But Martien knew nothing about this. Those who live in the Age of Splendor have no interest in such matters.

Martien was strangely relieved by the thought that the passing of time fades a person's life over time. He continued to caress the tombstone, trying hard to determine why he had such sentiments.

"Are you sad? You must have been a great person who was willing to sacrifice yourself. But now nobody remembers you."

Suddenly, the tombstone opened its eyes and then its mouth.

"What kind of foolish talk is that, you idiot? I'm dead. Why would I need to bother with such trivial matters?"

"But those who buried you here must have erected this tombstone so they could remember you."

"Can you even guess how much time has passed since the gods created this world? A person's lifespan passes in the blink of an eye. Even were my name written in books, how long do you think my memory would last?"

"You must have been a great person. That's why you are at rest here."

"Perhaps I was, or maybe not. There are no absolutes for greatness."

"Did you not try to live an honorable life, so you could be buried in a grand cemetery like this? Although, it has since turned to ruins."

"Who would think such depressing thoughts while they're alive?"

"Only those who devoted their lives to accomplish something."

"You are confusing consequences with purposes."

"You mean, each of us has our own purpose?"

"That's a trite way of putting it."

"I could die today or tomorrow. What do you think I should do?"

"Aha! Finally, you are getting to the point."

"Answer me!"

"Haven't you been thinking about this all along? You should already know. I'm just a reflection of your mind. Let us take leave of each other. Your men are calling you."

"Brother! Shouldn't we get going?"

Martien and his men moved stealthily through the graveyard, using moonlight as their only guide. They loaded the stolen goods they had collected from the graveyard into their wagon and departed. When they were far away from the cemetery, one of the three wagons headed south. One wagon headed north, and the last one, carrying Martien, headed directly toward the eastern castle gate of Aden. When they arrived in the city, Martien and his men were to be paid some compensation from his employer. If everything went as planned, he would divide his share of the rewards and pay his men, for they had need of food and clothing.

"This can't be�"

The wagon stopped suddenly. Inside the wagon, Martien started to laugh aloud. Soon, the sound of weapons and armor clashing mingled with the sound of angry voices.

"Stop!" He shouted at the top of his lungs from inside the wagon. The fighting suddenly stopped. Martien was overwhelmed by a feeling of satisfaction and excitement. He concentrated to hear what was happening outside. No one was actually attending to the wagon. The top of the wagon was pulled up and one of the men looked inside. Within the darkness of the wagon, someone was sitting on a holy ark.

Martien yelled at someone outside of the wagon, "I am Martien, owner of the South Sea Store! Let's have a talk!"

There was no response. Martien's heart pounded in his chest. His temples throbbed. In the midst of the deafening silence, someone snickered.

"This is getting interesting. I am Staris, from the 'Association of People Concerned About the Forest'."

Martien stood up from the holy ark. He walked to the back of the wagon and lifted the flap to look around. When his subordinates saw him, they brightened up greatly. He asked if everybody was okay, and they slowly nodded their heads. A female Dark Elf's cat-like, shiny eyes glared at him fiercely. A young male Dark Elf stood next to her.

"Staris?"

The Dark Elf nodded, with a faint smile on his face. Martien gestured for the Dark Elf to approach him.

"Why don't you come inside?"

The Dark Elf lightly strode into the wagon. Martien's men remained outside the wagon, unsettled by this development. "Brother�" They looked at Martien with desperate eyes, at a loss for words.

"Take it easy, guys. Take it easy!"

A moment later, Martien and Staris faced each other. Martien sat atop the holy ark while Staris stood in front of him. His gaze rested upon the treasure of the Ancient Empire, upon which Martien sat. Martien lit a lamp that hung inside the wagon and observed the Dark Elf's appearance.

"Your face� I remember you from somewhere."

"I worked at the South Sea Store some time ago. Your pay was cheap. Dirt cheap."

"What did you expect? When business is meager, so is the pay. There was nothing I could do about it. Anyway, why did you pick this wagon? You didn't happen to roll dice to decide, did you?"

"If I tell you that I also sent people to the other wagons, would that make you feel better?"

"I can always check to find out. But I get the feeling this is not the case. Why don't you tell me, honestly?"

Martien had devised a trap when he was assigned to move the holy ark from the cemetery to another location. He came up with the idea to prepare a fake wagon as bait, in case a scenario like this were to take place. He discussed his plan with his employer, but did not disclose it to anyone else. Although the details of the plan had changed many times, one thing that did not change was placing the holy ark in the third wagon.

"Was I deceived?" The Dark Elf asked incredulously. "So, this holy ark is a fake?"

Martien was overcome with the taste of victory, which he had not felt for a long time. Rubbing his hands together, he tried to calm himself enough to speak. He knew that his next move was extremely crucial. "Who sent you here?"

"A highly distinguished person in Giran. Shall I say more?"

This was an unexpected answer. The Dark Elf might be lying to him. He could easily have come up with some other name. While Martien considered various possibilities, the Dark Elf spoke.

"Some time ago, a messenger from a society went to see Hierarch Asterios. You don't need to know the reason for this. But the society was a sort of association in which distinguished people gather to promote something more than just friendship."

Martien smiled bitterly as he stood up, and kicked the holy ark. He cursed at someone who was not there. The Dark Elf just stood there with his arms folded during this outburst. "If the holy ark is indeed a fake, why should I care if it's broken to bits and pieces?"

"Can I tell you a secret?" Martien breathed heavily and looked around. An old hammer caught his attention. When the Dark Elf saw Martien heaving the hammer on his shoulder, he tilted his head with a puzzled look. Martien gave him a broad grin and brought the hammer down upon the holy ark with all his might. Although it sounded like something was being smashed, the ark did not even show a scratch. But the floor was broken beneath it. Martien continued grinning broadly at the Dark Elf, showing all of his teeth. "Oh, this is the real one, all right�"

A little later, Martien and Staris exited the wagon. The gangs from both sides looked at them quizzically. Martien called over his subordinates to make sure they weren't badly hurt.

Although some of them had fractured arms or legs, and some had even been struck by arrows, but none were fatally wounded. After whispering a few words to the Dark Elf, Martien left with his men. He uttered some randomly contrived phrases loudly, such as "Aaarrgh� they're too strong!" "We're no match for them!" and "Let's get out of here!"

Staris left with a few of his men, to the outskirts of the graveyard. In a small forest located at the northwestern section of the Forbidden Gateway, he found a tombstone, deserted long ago. With the tip of his boot, he pushed aside the soil in front of the tombstone.

The "Association" obtained the key to the holy ark.

































Chapter IX: Age of Splendor - Aria (3)
The crescent moon smiled radiantly. From the wharf, a horn signaled a boat's departure. Heine's lighthouse, the most beautiful of its kind, sent out a bluish beam that illuminated the night sky. To most citizens of Heine, the day was just like any other. However, a few of the more sensitive types felt that the atmosphere on the street was slightly askew.
The Dark Elven Guild usually appeared vacant, since few people passed through its doors. It was locked as soon as the moon arrived. Even the few adventurers who usually hang out at the stores had not shown up since earlier that morning. On the wharf and around the castle gates, an unusually large number of Dark Elves milled about.
"It seems like everybody is expecting a party to begin," said Flauen, Gatekeeper of Heine, looking at the moon, curved like a Shamshir's blade. As his gaze lowered, he noticed the backs of two Dark Elves walking away from him. One of them seemed badly injured, walking with difficulty. The other Dark Elf helped his companion, carrying an impressive bow, black quiver and arrows with black flags tied around them.
"Are they good people, or be they villains?" Flauen mumbled to himself, gesturing at the two Dark Elves. "When I see those who are struggling in their lonely fight called life, I feel the urge to lend a hand."

"I can't believe I get to fight FirstMatter!"
Master Brikus mumbled, slowly tightening his belt. After adjusting his clothes carefully, he rubbed the blood on his armor from previous combat with his thumb to remove it. To Xenovia's eyes, he was charged with tension like a trainee about to be tested by his master.
"Have you ever met her?"
With a gloomy face, Master Brikus counted with his fingers and said.
"It was 15� or maybe 18 years ago, when I was working as a Sentry. She was invited over as a special instructor."
"What kind of person was she?"
Master Brikus pursed his lips and looked up in the air. Noticing the deep wrinkle that formed between his eyes, Xenovia guessed that perhaps he was remembering some very bad memory.
"The only thing I remember is that, throughout the training session, she looked very tired. Initially, we thought she wasn't interested in teaching us. For my part, I simply didn't like her."
Xenovia gathered several spellbooks and potions and put them in a pouch attached to her belt. She fastened her sword to her side, hoping she wouldn't need to use it. She could not make up her mind whether she should wear her armor.
"Leave that behind!" Master Brikus told her, and she gave up the heavy armor that would only hinder her from casting magic. "I will always be there between FirstMatter and you."
"If I were an Elf," Magister Xenovia smiled, "I would have said something like 'I will always protect you, no matter what.'"
"What a strange thing to say," Master Brikus clucked. When his eyes met those of the Magister, he laughed aloud. After recovering from his amusement, he placed his arm around the Magister's neck and gently pulled her toward him. Xenovia received his kiss.
"Even when you get old, don't ever become like that woman." Master Brikus told her, held her face gently in his hands.
"A tiresome woman?"
"A woman who is preoccupied with herself and treats herself harshly."
Master Brikus felt discomfort between his shoulder blades and adjusted the position of his armor. He carefully wrapped a long strip of cloth around his torso to minimize potential bleeding. He wore two swords on his side, hiding two daggers in his boots. A small bow hung from his back and its quiver hung from his hip. He donned a pair of gauntlets and then his coat, which adequately hid most of his weapons.
"We didn't leave anything behind, did we?"
When Xenovia shook her head, he locked the door of the guild. While he put his key back to its usual hiding place underneath the stairs, she hung a sign on the door that read, "Today, We Are Closed" in burnt letters.

About two hundred guards were divided into four units, each consisting of around fifty men, lined up in a lattice formation. They awaited their leader's commands. When Captain Gosta appeared, at the direction of Duphis, a higher ranking guard, everyone saluted him in unison. They marched through the western castle gate of Heine and moved toward the Field of Reeds.
"Oh oh, they are on the move. They're going!"
Inside a wagon, Iason Heine watched this procession with great interest. His wagon was pulled over to the western side of the road, blocked to civilian traffic so the army could pass through. When Innadril was constructed, the Heine family donated a large sum of money to the lord. For this, their name was bestowed upon the city. They also contributed to the large-scale construction project of the Floating City. Presently, Iason Heine held the position of twelfth lord of the Heine clan, the wealthiest in Innadril.
"You'd better pull down the curtain, Sir. If they recognize your face, you may be in danger."
Iason Heine guffawed loudly at his secretary's concerned urging and replied, "What kind of trouble can befall me? They are willing to fight for me, risking their own lives against the Tasaba clan, my enemy who stole my goods. Don't you think I should at least see them off? After all, in order to mobilize the guards for this mission, I had to bribe the new lord with a great deal of money!"
The secretary's face darkened as he tried to warn his employer. "Sir! If someone overhears you!"
Iason Heine closed the window and sat back in his seat. It was nearing time for them to leave. Tapping the window separating his compartment from that of the coachman, he yelled loudly, "Let's get out of here!" The beasts were urged forward and the coach moved ahead slowly.
From outside the wagon, the restling sound of the Field of Reeds seemed to soothe their minds. While closing his eyes, the great merchant imagined the reeds as they danced. He also imagined the pale-faced assassins trampling the dancing reeds in their march towards the Floating City. His imagination was not far from reality.

"It's slow�"
After taking the sign that read in big letters "Just Arrived! New Products!" back into the store, Verona put her hand on her waist and straightened her back. She heard her bones crack. "Ouch!" She rubbed her lower back with her fist and went into the store. Closing the door, she locked the bolt and hung up a sign that read "Closed Today".
"What? You're still here?"
"Well, now what should I do?" Verona looked around the store. Elf Espen put both his feet on the counter, leaned back in his chair and flipped through a magazine. Two customers still remained in the store.
"Didn't you say you would be leaving today?"
"No!" Piriel Aurura, a Scavenger, sat on the floor and rolled dice with a sulky look. "I don't even want to see the shadow of a Dark Elf. I'll just stay here today."
"You're upset about something, I can tell." Verona gently patted the head of the Dwarf, who had lived several times longer than herself.
"I can't stand it, really!"
Piriel could not get over her frustration. After playing alone with her dice for a while longer, she finally determined the source of her foul mood, although it didn't make her feel any better. She looked at the iron hammer, her favorite tool. She imagined herself striking the head of an old female Dark Elf. Somehow, this thought greatly improved her mood.
"Piriel Aurura." The shop owner was surprised to see the Dwarf laughing to herself. She looked at him as if she had just awakened from a dream. "Do you happened to know anything about 'Dreviant Wine'?
Piriel replied that it is the wine produced in small amounts by hand in the Cursed Forest. Its ingredients are the "Pino Rouge" type of grapes only grown in Gludio. The poison is extracted from a spider, fermented using secret methods taught by demons. She also mentioned that the taste has a silky texture and a unique, unforgettable fragrance. The Elf merchant nodded his head and smiled.
"What if I tell you that one out of the twelve cases of wine that were made twenty-nine years ago at a winery called Astaron is now hidden underneath this counter?"
The Scavenger's jaw dropped and her eyes opened wide. Espen asked Verona to bring wine glasses. The three sat on the floor of the store and poured the legendary wine into glasses.
"Hey, Sorbo!" Espen called the Orc Prefect. The burly Orc was still feeling guilty that half the store was destroyed as a result of his actions earlier that day. To make amends, he had been working on repairing the store. But, proving the common adage that you cannot expect Orcs to do a good job that requires manual dexterity, he only managed to increase the scale of the damage.
"Unless you are trying to develop a new combat technique with that hammer, please put it down. Come over here and have a drink with us!"
The Orc silently sat down with the others.
"It seems like we have one extra glass."
"No, we are just about right."
Espen poured wine for the group, then filled the remaining glass to the brim.
"She should show up by daybreak. Why don't we get started drinking while we wait for her?"

With nightfall, the temperature dropped and the wind blew out to the sea. One by one, the townspeople and the guards disappeared. The only creatures loitering among the streets were the Dark Elves, with their moonlight-colored skin.
About a dozen Dark Elves rushed out of the alley near Brikus. In secret, they reported the results of their search. Brikus was aware that one of the units dispatched to the city had not returned. It was the unit that left to search the area near the wharf.
Brikus felt his chest tightening. Three hours had passed since beginning their search, still without a glimpse of FirstMatter. During the course of the night, many of the them were disabled from from the fight. The searchers were overcome with tension and frustration. Soon, their sentiments would turn to fear.
In the canal, a fish jumped into the air, twisting its body, reflected by moonlight in sparkling, silvery colors. When the moment passed, the fish disappeared into the depths of the canal.
Brikus gnashed his teeth in a curse. Suddenly, he realized what FirstMatter's tactics were. "Everyone, we will refine the search area!" He divided the canal into different sections and assigned each one to a search unit.
"Make your movements as discreet as possible. No units are to make contact with any other. Bear in mind, we are the hunters!"
Brikus couldn't shake the feeling that he was the target. Along with Magister Xenovia, he boarded a gondola and searched the area between the eastern and southern sections of the canal. The Dark Elves had acute vision, even under moonlight. FirstMatter may have turned herself into a slippery fish, for all Brikus knew, but he still felt he could catch her. He watched a small school of fish quickly dart away as the gondola approached.
"FirstMatter is unpredictable. Maybe she wants to slay all 99 of us with her bare hands."
A young Elf asked with both admiration and disbelief, "Why do you say that, Sir?"
"Because she doesn't want to run away. She wants to impress Tetrarch Thifiell, to prove that she is right. There are many other reasons, but she has only one real motivation. Because she can."
From a distance, Aria watched the gondola carry her pursuers. Two of them were conversing, while the female attentively searched the bottom of the canal.
Aria tensed when she noticed the woman suddenly lift her head and look in her direction. However, she could not see through the veil of deception Aria had created around herself in the darkness. When the boat approached, Aria could identify two of the three on the boat. She knew well the face of Master Brikus and could guess who the woman was that accompanied him.
When the gondola finally passed under the bridge, Aria removed her veil of deception, swooped down and stabbed the young Dark Elf as he held the pole. She was about to attack Magister Xenovia, but Master Brikus blocked her path, brandishing his sword. Since he wore heavy armor, the gondola shook wildly. Aria wavered, trying to regain her balance, as Brikus laughed triumphantly.
Having lost its gondolier, the vessel drifted aimlessly, following the flow of the current. While Master Brikus protected her front, the Magister chanted a spell. Aria abandoned them, escaping up the bank. When the spell of the Magister was completed, an ear-splitting roar issued forth, like thousands of arrows shot at once.
The buildings made of white marble were defaced with ugly scratches. The paving stones that once boasted beautiful patterns were marred by large gashes, as though a giant had jumped up and down on them on one leg.
"Why did you blow her away like that?"
The air pocket of tremendous pressure inflicted enormous damage to the appearance of the city, and pushed at FirstMatter's back with great force. Like a scarecrow engulfed in a tornado, she was blown across the canal, smashing through the second story of a building.
Brikus jumped up on the bank after FirstMatter, signaling to the nearby Dark Elves. Magister Xenovia followed Brikus up the bank. The streets connecting many corridors and stairs in a convoluted maze. The two pursuers jumped across the canal, climbed the walls and walked atop buildings that separated them from their prey.
Brikus found shattered glass and a pool of blood on the floor. As he touched the blood, an arrow flew through the broken window and lodged into his shoulder. With his thick armor, no serious damage was inflicted.
"What a cheap move!" Brikus yelled. "FirstMatter, you must be getting old, too!"
"You don't need to remind me of that, you bastard!"
For several hours now, Aria had been playing hide and seek against numerous top-notch soldiers. How exhausted must she be? Was her sheer bravado a disguise to ensnare him?
In the attic in an old abandoned building, the ceiling was so low that it was hard to maneuver. The smell of decayed paper was overpowering. A door suddenly slammed shut as soon as Brikus entered, enveloping him in utter darkness.
Brikus was thankful Xenovia still lingered behind. As she had never trained as an Assassin, to be thrown into a situation like this would be walking naked into combat. However, Aria was injured, and the scent of blood is stronger than any other body odor.
"It's no use!"
Brikus was confused, because the direction of her scent was apart from where her voice emanated. He walked sideways, to discover another pool of blood on the floor.
"You can deceive, but you can't hide."
With some effort, he undid the buckle of his shoulder armor, which made a loud noise as it fell to the floor. His opponent did not attack. He removed his skirt and thigh protectors, also putting aside his alternate weapons.
"You must have learned something from the training I gave you on that day."
Again, her voice came from a new direction. Some sixteen years ago, he and his platoon refused to receive FirstMatter's instructions. The elders took this as an act of rebellion and imposed what they considered suitable discipline. The captain of the sentries suggested a punishment that could potentially save their lives, but it also inflicted a permanent scar on their pride. As it happened, the captain later lost his life in combat with marsh zombies, attempting to seize an underground fortress.
"All members of the platoon will be locked in the underground fighting complex while fully armed for thirty-eight minutes. Enjoy your punishment."
Locked in pitch-black darkness, they met with Aria FirstMatter. Completely unarmed, she gave them the most painful and humiliating thirty-eight minutes they would never forget.
"Thank you for your compliment."
An arrow whistled toward Brikus, interrupting his reverie. At first, Brikus thought it was some sort of a joke or deception, but more arrows continued to fly towards him with deadly accuracy. She obviously knew his exact location. Brikus haphazardly brought down his sword, causing chips of old paint and wood fragments to fly up and generate much dust in the air.
"Well, if you do that, you will hide the smell."
As soon as Brikus heard her voice, another arrow came towards him. He rolled his body to escape the hit.
"But smell is not the only thing you need to disguise. One can get a hint from the flow of air or one's body heat."
"What nonsense!" Brikus couldn't believe anyone could possess such abilities.
"The objective is�!" The sound of a bow string being pulled back several times successively could be heard in an instant. Five shots? Six shots? Brikus was hit in his left arm and leg. His left ear was also injured. "... if you are focusing on only one sense..." Suddenly the voice was very close. "�you can never catch me, you fool!" The next moment, Brikus received a shocking impact and flew backward. He fell to the floor, gathered himself and readied himself for the next attack.
Meeting and evading the sword Brikus swung at her, FirstMatter's dagger almost split his jaw in half. He stepped back and thrust his sword directly forward. At that moment, his opponent's dagger stuck into his wrist. FirstMatter twisted it with full force, digging between the bones and tendons with a sickening, cracking sound. Crying aloud in pain, Brikus swung his fist, surprisingly Aria with a blow squarely on the face.
She spit out blood with a grin at the notion her opponent still had the will to fight.
"Yes." Brikus mumbled as though he were spitting the words through his teeth. What fell to the floor was not his weapon. "This was the problem."
He kicked small capsule-like objects across on the floor. The capsules broke for a moment, illuminating the room in bluish aura from the spirits.
"Yes, although it is certainly a great invention, nowadays, young assassins seem to rely excessively on it." Aria pulled out a large glass fragment stuck in her thigh and tossed it aside. From the wound flowed another gush of blood. She did not want her opponent to realize that she had already bled too much. She maintained her composure and turned in the direction of the door. "Among them, at least you were the one with the most potential, Sentry Brikus."
"I will gratefully accept your teaching, FirstMatter." The Master's face was smeared with blood and sweat. He unwrapped the strip of cloth from his waist. He roughly wrapped it around his tattered wrist and tied it with his teeth. "However, I still have the use of my left arm."
Attempting to finish the fight before the light of the spirits disappeared, Brikus picked up his sword with his left hand and while limping on his wounded left leg, he charged at Aria.
At that moment, a black flame flickered and the door turned into ashes in the blink of an eye. A spell-induced tornado flew in, blowing away the walls and the ceiling. Untold moments passed as the mass of detritus settled. Slowly, Brikus extracted himself from the collapsed attic.
"Xenovia! What about FirstMatter?"
Brikus faced a scene that he never wanted to witness. Aria held the Magister from behind, and several pursuers lay dead around her. More soldiers floated on the water, the canal scarlet with blood. Aria's dagger caressed the Magister's neck.
"You know that taking a hostage won't do you any good."
Brikus was going to continue his talk but Xenovia slightly lifted her hand to stop him. "You know what, I don't think I'm a hostage."
"You're right." Aria whispered something into the Magister's ear.
The Magister opened her eyes wide as blood gushed out of her mouth. Pulling the dagger out of the Magister's back, Aria pushed her limp body into the canal. The water splashed ungracefully and the Magister's body was carried away by the current. Brikus cried out and charged toward Aria with an expression of hopeless abandon and deepest hatred.
"Calm down, Brikus. She is alive." Aria attempted to wipe away the animosity her opponent was harboring.
Aria clucked her tongue, not because someone cut her off, but because the owner of the voice was the person she never wanted to see again. A familiar face came out of the shadows of the shattered building where this latest tumult had occurred.
"Knight of Pavel�"
"I'm Scride."
"I'll remember you as that from now on."
"Yes, do that."
Brikus, Scride and Aria. The three Dark Elves maintained a peculiar stand-off that lasted for a while. It was Brikus who made the first move. Masking his intention to attack, he took a step towards the canal. Aria reacted instinctively, positioning herself closer to him. She was aware how dangerous it was to confront multiple enemies so completely exposed. She found herself especially wary of Crow Feather, the other Dark Elf who came from the north.
Scride informed Brikus, "Her dagger is under a spell of bleeding. You'd better hurry and finish this."
"I don't know who you are, but I already know that without you telling me."
What Aria could not understand was Scride's rapid recovery. She was confident that she had inflicted enough damage on him to hospitalize him for a month or two.
"Must be some kind of potion that's aided your recuperation."
Some potions had the effect of letting one forget pain temporarily, or greatly enhanced their physical capabilities. But most would turn their users into addicts, with serious side-effects that cause permanent brain damage.
The Master and Bladedancer surrounded Aria from both sides. They were both originally users of Dual Swords, so they could use swords with both hands. However, neither of them could use both of their hands. Aria wondered briefly whether maiming and destroying male bodies had become a strange hobby of hers.
The two Dark Elves attacked. Arrows tied with black flags flew toward her continuously from across the canal. Rolling her body to barely escape the arrows, she looked across the canal where the archers might be hiding. The blue light from the lighthouse sharply passed overhead.
Aria attacked Brikus first. Turning backward, she kicked Scride's leg. With a graceful leap, she plunged into the canal, arrows penetrating the water, several of which struck her. Crawling on the bottom of the canal, she headed for the lighthouse.
Esen picked up his bow, but had lost sight of his enemy. When he leaned his upper body out of the lighthouse window, he came face-to-face with a profusely bleeding female Dark Elf. She smiled and grabbed his right hand. She reached her other hand toward him, but Esen struck her several times with his bow. Her head bled profusely, her arms were blackened with bruises, and her face was disfigured with ugly swelling. She desperately grabbed with both hands. With a snap, the finger that guided the string of Esen's bow could no longer move according to his will. His hunt had failed.
Aria walked out of the lighthouse and flopped down on the ground.
"Oh my love, my dearly beloved!"
She wanted to hear the voice of her lover. Not the hollow shell currently locked up in the temple, repeating the same words over and over, but that of the greatest and most fearsome man she ever met, in the way she still remembered him.
"Only a little more to go. Just a little longer." She buried her face in her lap, her shoulders shaking.
She lifted her dazed eyes up to the sky. The light of the lighthouse had faded as the sky brightened. She could hear footsteps, heavy and strong. She could tell who it was. With the palm of her hand, she wiped away the tears from her face.
"Did you leave the woman to die?" Aria said to Master Brikus. "That wasn't very nice of you."
To Scride, who had a concerned look - at least that's how she interpreted his expressionless face - she said, "Just like I dealt with her, soon I will deal with you."
She stood up, but staggered, lost her balance and fell down into a wet gulley. Her vision blurry, she could still see much fear and hatred on the two men's faces, but not much sympathy. Their hands were coming after her - not to offer goodwill, but to apply their weapons to her ravaged body.
"All these things are too tiresome for me." She raised up her dagger. "Let's finish this quickly and rest."

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CHRONICLES III : RISE OF DARKNESS
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Chapter 1: Rise of Darkness - Children of Shilen
� After the Fall of Giants, the Elves, Orcs and Humans fought endless wars for domination of the continent. Many thousands died on the battlefield. Humans experienced an unprecedented level of destruction, yearning for the next world. Just as the souls of brave Orc fighters are consumed into the fires of Paagrio, so too did the Humans need a god to promise reprieve after death. They began to raise their prayers to Shilen.
These devotees of death called themselves the Children of Shilen, and in time their influence became widespread. Fierce wars between the races reached a catastrophic end, as the Humans emerged victorious from the pile of ashes, with the Children of Shilen an important part of their society �
History of the Empire 1731, from �The Hidden History of Elmoreden�
as recorded by Historian Mateo of the Ivory Tower


Chapter 2: Rise of Darkness � Awakening of Shunaiman
� A miracle appeared at the crowning ceremony of Emperor Shunaiman, the great emperor of Elmoreden. A girl with three pairs of wings came down from the heavens surrounded by holy fire. With a clear, bright voice, she explained she was Anakim, envoy of Einhasad. She had come to the land to bring the blessing of the gods to Shunaiman, the leader of all Humans. Shunaiman announced that the worship of Einhasad was the one religion, and all others were cults. He declared holy war on all those who worshipped darkness.
Other forces refused to bow to the Emporer�s might, continuing their resistance to the end. Known as the Children of Shilen, they were far more numerous and fanatical than the Emperor realized. In order to deal with this insurrection, Shunaiman performed miracles with the power of Einhasad, forming a religious army with Anakim. These warriors of steel were abetted by the grace of light, wearing giant suits of armor. They were called the Nephilim, which means army of strong angels on land.
The army of Shilen was repeatedly defeated by the overwhelming power of the Nephilim. Many devotees retreated to the sheltering embrace of Shilen, scattering throughout the land, hiding in temples hidden deep underground �
History of the Empire 1731, from �The Hidden History of Elmoreden�
as recorded by Historian Mateo of the Ivory Tower


Chapter 3: Rise of Darkness � Seal of Gnosis
� As outside threats eventually dissipated, Emperor Shunaiman applied his efforts to strengthen his empire internally. In the ten years that followed, the new empire became strong, controlling the entire continent through large-scale development and territorial expansion. Castles were built and lords appointed, taxes collected and the empire economy steadily grew. Around this time, some proclaimed the faith of Shilen among the populace. The Emperor ordered his lords to punish them, but they were unable to drive these zealots from the kingdom. Though many died, the Emperor would not relent. Following Anakim's gnosis of the gods, the emperor mobilized the Nephilim and discovered the six underground temples of the worshippers of Shilen.
Shunaiman called these underground temples the Catacombs, for they were the final resting places of those cult members who rejected the worship of Einhasad. Shunaiman's military attacked the gangs of Shilen who had already faced defeat at the hands of the Nephilim. However, ultimate victory was not an easy task to obtain. New enemies appeared, called the Lilim. The Lilim were created from the dark magic of Shilen, and they were unaffected by the Nephilim. As they were unafraid of death, these warriors knew not how to retreat on the battlefield.
After an extended and all-consuming battle, the emperor finally subdued the six Catacombs, but his forces were decimated in the process. Countless corpses of the Lilim and Nephilim were scattered about the underground temples. Certain there were no other forces to challenge his authority, Shunaiman cast a Seal of Gnosis on all the Catacombs. This first of the seven seals was so-named because it was a miracle achieved through Anakim's gnosis. Entombed in the deep underground, the groups of immortals that followed Shilen began to disappear from memory �
History of the Empire 1731, from �The Hidden History of Elmoreden�
as recorded by Historian Mateo of the Ivory Tower


Chapter 4: Rise of Darkness � Seal of Avarice
� In the process of casting the Seal of Gnosis, Emperor Shunaiman and his followers are said to have gained the ability to tell the future. Perhaps this was derived from the power of Einhasad, that of Shilen, or from the gods themselves.
Soon after the Seal of Gnosis was cast, the followers of Einhasad foretold of a black snake slithering on the ground. This was a sign of an unfortunate threat soon to be revealed true. The followers of Shilen thrived under Lilith's leadership, greatly enhancing their forces and reestablishing the army of Lilim in the eight underground cities of the Necropoli. They performed ceremonies to call forth Shilen from the afterworld.
The emperor, having forfeited the majority of his army for control of the Catacombs, was unable to force his citizens into war, yet again to deal with this new threat. A Dwarf appeared before the emperor. As representative of the Dwarven guild called the Merchants of Mammon, he offered to lend the king funds to form a new military. The suspicious emperor asked about his motives. The Dwarf of Mammon explained that his guild had been supporting the Children of Shilen, but the stars overseeing the fate of times had changed. Therefore, they decided to do business with the forces of Einhasad, who were newly foreseen as the victors. Although this mysterious Dwarf group seemed untrustworthy, the emperor could discern no falsehood in the Dwarf's words. The weapons and armor he offered were of such high quality they were difficult to refuse. The emperor and the Merchants of Mammon were said to have signed a contract of unknown details.
Few records of the Merchants of Mammon exist, but they recognize the Mammon and tell that the future of wealth and business flow with the movements of the stars. It is known they were expelled from the Dwarven kingdom. Surprisingly, this guild is said to survive even to this day.
Emperor Shunaiman was the sponsor for this guild. He was able to form a new Nephilim army and launch an attack on the Necropoli. That he was able to lead such a holy war was thanks to none other than Anakim, the representative of Einhasad. In the darkness of the underground, the armies of light and death fought fiercely. Blood scattered in all directions, filling the rivers, seas, and even the skies with a red energy. The multitudes trembled, but the emperor saw that a new era was beginning. Silently, he waited until the time was right.
Finally, Lilith, the daughter of Shilen, cloaked herself in the power of darkness and arose, but Anakim came forward to block her. This girl of pure white flew through the sky on three pairs of wings. But the final victor of the battle was not Anakim or Lilith. Emperor Shunaiman cast a spell of sealing as the forces of light and death entered into the Necropoli, entombing the forces of Shilen, along with Anakim and the Nephilim.
This second seal was called the Seal of Avarice. One might guess this is due to the secret contract between the emperor and the Merchants of Mammon �
History of the Empire 1731, from �The Hidden History of Elmoreden�
as recorded by Historian Mateo of the Ivory Tower


Chapter 5: Rise of Darkness � Seal of Strife
� Lilith and the forces of Shilen were imprisoned underground by the Seal of Avarice, but the Children of Shilen remained above ground. Those who rejected the revelation of Shunaiman, the black magicians that worshipped the god of death, and the Elven tribes that returned to Eva and followed Shilen, all challenged the absolute authority of Einhasad. Some of them insisted they had received the revelation of Lilith, but since they collected huge treasures, it is certain they received some assistance.
Emperor Shunaiman controlled the enormous territory of the empire because he harnessed the power of Sacredness by communing with the Sacred Article. The emperor widened his control to the outer reaches, demonstrating more absolute power than ever before. The emperor taught others in his employ how to commune with the Sacred Article as well - a decision he would live to regret.
During this time, the emperor did not age, an effect that was tied to the power of the seals. Perhaps as punishment of the gods for Shunaiman's arrogance, the Children of Shilen took the West Sea Bridge and invaded the empire. At first, Shilen's army seemed unable to attack the castles, but Gludio and Dion were soon taken. Somehow, the followers of the god of death had learned the mysterious powers of the Sacred Article and were employing it in their sieges.
Finally, after the fall of Giran Castle, Emperior Shunaiman made a fateful resolution. He cast the magic of a seal that would tie up the power that controlled all the castles of the territory. As a result, although he gave up most of his control, the enemy forces could not control the castles they had gained. His army counterattacked and recovered the castles, successfully pushing the forces of Shilen out of the empire. A third seal was created, given the name Seal of Strife, which controlled all castles and territories on the continent �
History of the Empire 1731, from �The Hidden History of Elmoreden�
as recorded by Historian Mateo of the Ivory Tower


Chapter 6: Rise of Darkness � Lilith, Daughter of Shilen
� Many theories have been raised about the birth of Lilith, but the most prominent opinion is that she was an oracle who served Shilen during the Era of Giants. However, when she became active in the Elmoreden era, she appeared as an Elf of ashen-colored skin.
In the time of Shunaiman, she was born as the ninth daughter of the goddess of death to the Children of Shilen. She was thought of as a central figure, with religious and military control over the followers of Shilen. In the revelation of Kaisha, the following is explained about Lilith.
� On the battlefield of the heavens before the armed might of the angry gods, the creatures of Shilen collapsed one after another. Facing defeat, Shilen established a realm of death on the floor of the abyss, where she hid. She commanded Lilith, the daughter that she loved the most, to remain on the land and prepare for her return. Shilen cursed Lilith with immortal life �
Under Lilith's guidance, the Children of Shilen erected the Necropolis and Catacombs, forming an elite army called the Lilim. This force grew quickly, threatening the Human populace. Conflicts between the followers of Shilen and the stakes of the empire that intended to control them gradually became more frequent, finally erupting into a full-scale war. One follower of Shilen left the following record about the situation.
� Deliver death unto those who oppose us. Sacrifice our lives for the goddess. When the blood of the enemy turns the rivers, sea and sky red, great Shilen will return to the land from across the river of death. May the fellowship of Lilim gain ultimate victory �
The Necropolis was the living site of the Children of Shilen, both a holy temple and military fortress. The followers of Shilen believed that, because the Necropolis was neither of this world nor that of the underworld, they could not truly die, even if they were to be killed there. During wartime, most of them became undead, or they were recreated as Lilim. Lilith and Anakim were both trapped in the Disciples Necropolis. Lilith opened her eyes again as a forgotten relic, hidden underground in the Era of Chaos �
History of the Empire 1731, from �The Hidden History of Elmoreden�
as recorded by Historian Mateo of the Ivory Tower



Chapter 7: Rise of Darkness � Anakim, Envoy of the Gods
� The dispute over the nature of angels was tumultuous. Human priests insisted angels were children of Einhasad, the goddess of light. The Magisters said angels were higher spirits of light. In the Revelation of Kaisha, the following reference to the creation of angels is believed the most appropriate means of reconciling the two arguments.
� Einhasad, who stands above all creatures, emitted a light to the heavens and earth. The rays of light that emanated in all directions had their own will and formed bodies according to that of their creator, and became angels. Their light was very bright and did not belong to this world, but because they had bodies, they could not remain in the light. Those who wandered around aimlessly were taken up by Einhasad and regarded as her underlings. Einhasad had another nine children and set them up as leaders of the angels �
The first reference to Anakim by the scribe of Lilith follows.
� The last of the nine was Anakim, who shone with the form of a woman wearing three pairs of wings. Einhasad is said to have regarded her youngest daughter as her voice to carry out her will to the creatures of the land. Anakim was an agent of light, surrounded in the flames of spirits, sending down the power of revelation to the land.
Anakim shared her blood with Emperor Shunaiman and permitted the Nephilim to rule. She kissed his forehead and gave him the right to speak with the authority of light �
Therefore, Anakim served the first-generation Human emperor, providing knowledge for creating the Nephilim army. The existence of Anakim provided Shunaiman holy authority to his power of control. For him, this was a weapon as important as the magic of light.
However, when Anakim was sealed with Lilith in the Disciples Necropolis, would she have accepted it as her desire? Would she have cried out entreaties for the salvation of her discarded children? Or would she have cursed Shunaiman for trapping her in darkness? �
History of the Empire 1731, from �The Hidden History of Elmoreden�
as recorded by Historian Mateo of the Ivory Tower


Chapter 8: Rise of Darkness � The Lilim and Nephilim
�Looking at multiple records, Lilim are thought to have been modified Humans created in the era of the Giants, through the use of Shilen's dark magic. The nature of the Lilim was similar to that of the undead. The Lilim were not dead, but since they did not eat or breathe, nor did their bodies grow old or get sick, they are difficult to regard as living things. The following excerpt from the Revelation of Kaisha explains the Lilim as having immortal bodies.
�Lilim, soldiers that gave up their lives for Shilen, could not die, as their names had been removed from the list of the dead. If a Lilim expired, he returned to the side of Shilen in the netherworld...
The number of followers applying for rebirth as Lilim was great, but that opportunity was not provided to them all. Those who were not selected became a lower tribe called Lisch. Lilim formed the main fighting force that resisted the army of the empire. The Lisch repaired and managed the Necropolis and Catacombs.
The Nephilim were soldiers created by the power of Einhasad. The following verse can be found in the narration of the empire recorded at that time.
�Emperor Shunaiman gave a holy blessing to the heroes of the day with the magic of light received from Anakim, messenger of Einhasad. He created an army of angels, whose dignified appearance featured platinum armor and wings of swords. They were swordsmen who carried out the order of the gods, clerics that enhanced the grandeur of Einhasad �
The Nephilim were a fusion of the spirit of light into Human form. They were divided into the roles of foot soldier, knight and priest, corresponding to the three roles of Lilim. There was also a lower tribe called the Gigant, which assisted the Nephilim.
Gigants were weak ones, not able to become Nephilim. Neither could they become knights. They were soldiers that received the holy blessing of Anakim as injured beings and slaves. Gigants served the Nephilim in the holy war to rid the empire of cultists.
The Nephilim and Gigants lost their own nature in the process of creation, with only the will to kill and destroy. Shunaiman's control over them was absolute. They were an army of soldiers that unfailingly served the honor of their leader, in an effort to remove rebellious forces and maintain order in the empire �
- From �Analysis of the Revelation of Kaisha and Verse of Lilith
written by Dark Elven Tetrarch Thifiell


Chapter 9: Rise of Darkness � Necropolis and Catacombs
�The building style of the Necropolis resembles an ancient style used widely in the early days of the Elmoreden Empire. Rooms and passageways of standard size are connected in irregular ways, so seems to have been constructed over many eras. The structures and preservation of the detailed decorations are in very good condition.
Even though the Necropolis was constructed for religious purposes by the followers of Shilen, sculptures and frescos depicting Shilen are not found here. The culture of the Giants avoided direct representation of religious beings. Instead, multiple rock statues are scattered throughout, depicting guardians of the temple. Rather than having a decorative function, they are considered related to the orders for preservation, as well as enchantment.
Next, some of the details of the clay tablets excavated here in the Saints Necropolis show well what the meaning was of this building to the followers of Shilen at that time.
�This place is the most holy cathedral for Shilen to live when returning to the real world after crossing over the river of life from the land of death and is the palace of immortality from which to reign as the queen of the dead.
The believers that suffer under the torment of the hypocrites of light and follow Shilen. Even if they were to die here at the sword of the cultists, they believed they would gain the glory of immortal life, living in this place under the authority of Shilen.
To the followers of Shilen, the Necropolis was recognized as a holy place, located between the land of the dead and that of the living. They believed the divine providence of Shilen was with them in the Necropolis upon death, and that the afterlife would be no different from their previous lives �
The Catacombs resemble a prototype from a hundred years before the Necropolis. Ironically, it is possible to read more clues about the history of the Catacombs than the Necropolis, although it received much more damage. The clues of the fights that took place between the army of the empire and the followers of Shilen yet remain. Emperor Shunaiman named this place the Catacombs, meaning the graveyard of the cultists. It is as if he knew from the beginning what the outcome of his bloody war would be �
- From the travel diary recorded by Dubian Etbar of Fighters of Dawn
during the excavation of Saints Necropolis and the Catacomb of the Forbidden Path



Chapter 10: Rise of Darkness � The Seal Stones
Emperor Shunaiman, who had the power to control all seven seals, was like a god of the land. Yet, he knew that all this incredible power could drive the world to ruin, if held by only one person. Toward the end of his rule, Shunaiman searched for a way to pass control of the seals to his successors. As a result, only those linked to the emperor by blood would inherit control of the seals.
This is the Secret Held in the Empire Bloodline, referenced by the Fighters of Dawn. For nearly a thousand years, the ancestors of the family of the Emperor Shunaiman of Elmoreden held the power to control the seven seals, thoroughly educated in the methods of using them.
However, the inheritance of the emperor�s bloodline ended with Emperor Baium. Baium used the Tower of Insolence to absorb the power of the Lilim and Nephilim, which was sealed in various places underground. But his plan, both grand and foolhardy, ended in failure due to the intervention of Saint Solina. The Tower of Insolence collapsed while the magic reversed, so the power flowing in the blood of Baium was transferred to the bodies of the Nephilim and Lillim.
The destruction of Emperor Baium caused the bloodline of the emperors of Elmoreden forever to lose power over the seals. Soon, it became apparent that this power had not disappeared, but rather remained in the form of Seal Stones in the bodies of Nephilim and Lilim.
With multiple Seal Stones gathered together, one could gain the power to control the seven seals. Through the ancient documents excavated from the Tower of Insolence, those who discovered this secret formed their forces into the Revolutionary Army of Dusk and the Lords of Dawn. They dispatched teams to the Necropolis and Catacombs, holding various festivals to determine who could gather the most Seal Stones. This is how the fierce competition between the two sides to control the seals first began ��
- History of the Empire 1731, from �The Hidden History of Elmoreden�
as recorded by Historian Mateo of the Ivory Tower