"Hope breaks first in the darkness… but it's there where it learns to survive."
⛓️ Scene: The Descent into Darkness
In the heart of Terranova’s capital, beneath the headquarters of the Essence Guard, lay a place no one spoke of.
Beyond a metallic door sealed with violet essence, a staircase spiraled downward endlessly. The deeper the descent... The dimmer the light. The weaker the stone.
Steps dulled. Walls darkened to mossy green and black, veiled in mold. Further down—no more stone. Only dirt, roots… and danger.
Water dripped into rancid puddles. Echoes rang like sighs from a cursed dungeon.
At the very bottom—an iron gallery of cells. Bars forged with tempered essence, each cell fitting four souls. No beds. No chairs. Only a crude toilet.
That’s where the villagers were thrown. And Dyor, once a child of the fields, now lay caged… awaiting an execution without a date.
🥀 Scene: The Silence Routine
Every day, metallic boots echoed down the stairs. Two guards. A set of keys. Same destination: Dyor’s cell.
Chains fastened to his neck, wrists, and ankles. Escorted without emotion.
> Dyor’s thoughts: > “Here we go again. > What punishment awaits today?”
As they climbed back up, the other villagers stayed silent. Then, new guards would descend… To pull out more prisoners. Some for forced labor. Others as slaves. Women… cleaning, cooking, humiliation.
🧱 Scene: Interrogation and Torture
Dyor was dragged into a windowless room. Just a table. A chair. Two guards. And General Olimpus.
Every day, the same questions:
—How did you defeat Tacithus? —Who helped you, weakling? —Where’s the village chief’s daughter?
Dyor remained silent. He thought. He endured.
Then, he was thrown into the training arena. Given an ordinary sword. Forced to face trained soldiers.
Day after day. Each outcome the same: Dyor, broken, bleeding, beaten.
From the viewing balcony, Olimpus would shout:
—Show us your power! —Come on, spiteful boy! Is that how you defeated Tacithus?
And when Dyor nearly lost consciousness... A woman with golden hair and radiant armor would heal him with white essence.
> Dyor’s thoughts: > “This is my only moment of peace. > To see my angel… > Heal me. > Let me rest in her arms.”
🔓 Scene: Breaking the Cycle
The day started like any other.
Dyor, chained in his damp cell. Cold ground beneath him. Water droplets—his only company. He waited for the sound of metal boots. The ritual that crushed his soul.
> Thoughts: > “Come on... let another day begin.”
But the silence held. Unusual.
Dyor stood. He listened closely.
Then came footsteps. But not the usual clanking...
They were fast. Urgent.
She appeared before his cell. The knight with golden hair. Not in ceremonial armor. Eyes burning with intensity. Bloodstained keys in hand.
> CLAK-CLAK… SHHHNK… The lock surrendered.
—Quickly! There’s no time. —Take these keys. —Free the others. I’ll unlock the ones at the back.
Dyor didn’t speak. His eyes said everything.
They moved like lightning between the iron bars.
> Thoughts: > “What happened here...? > Where are the guards...? > These bloody keys… already tell the story.”
🕳️ Scene: The Tunnel to the Aqueducts
Before a sealed stone wall, the knight whispered a spell of green essence:
> “Verdis Excuria!”
The wall parted as if a buried forest opened its throat. A tunnel of earth awaited.
The villagers hesitated. Stepped back. Feared.
The knight turned around, desperate. She locked eyes with Dyor. Fierce. Resolute.
—Tell them to enter… or they will die.
Dyor raised his voice without hesitation:
—Get in! Now! Don’t look back!
And just like that... Bodies moved. Faith returned.
On the other side… An aqueduct beneath the city. Boats floated over murky water. The current dragged them toward the river that led to the sea.
The knight shouted:
—At the end you’ll escape! —Get on! Be free!
One by one… Villagers departed. The boats drifted off. Only two remained.
🔥 Scene: Fire That Disrupts Freedom
Dyor and the knight boarded the final boat with four other men.
But just before leaving...
A fireball descended from the underground sky.
> WHOOSH—BOOM!!
It struck the boat ahead.
Flames. Screams. Bodies leaping into the water, ablaze.
Dyor turned.
And what he saw… froze his soul.
An armed troop stood on both sides of the canal. Mages, archers, full cavalry.
> “Petra Murallis!”
The aqueduct gate sealed shut.
There was no escape.
Dyor, the knight, and the remaining villagers... were captured.
🧪 Scene: The Trial of Silence
A room with no windows. Dim, dying light. The orb barely glowed. A ticking clock.
Each second… a sentence.
Dyor sat. The knight—beside him.
Before them… General Olimpus.
Proud stance. One brow raised. Fist clenched over chin.
—Elizabeth, Elizabeth… —My dear Elizabeth… —No, no, no...
His voice dripped venom. The air reeked of black essence.
Dyor glanced sideways at her. No fear. But deep pain.
> Thoughts: > “Elizabeth… > So that’s my angel’s name.”
Olimpus continued:
—This is how you repay me, rebellious child. —After saving you from slavery… —After teaching you the art of essence…
He paused.
—What have you to say in your defense?
Silence.
> Tick… tack…
Olimpus leaned forward. Hands clasped. Wrath contained.
—No words?
> Dyor’s thoughts: > “I have nothing to say to you… > But someday… > You’ll kiss my feet.”
Then—
> SLAM! A hand smashed the table, hearts trembled.
—ANSWER ME! —You insolent girl! —WHY DID YOU DO IT!?
Elizabeth lowered her head. Dyor clenched his fists. Tension thick as blades filled the room.
Olimpus roared:
—You killed ten of my men! —Two guards! —All for a bunch of filthy rats!
Veins swelled.
He stood.
Turned.
And without another word…
Left.
Guards approached. Covered Dyor and Elizabeth’s faces.
In silence...
They were taken.
🔒 Scene: Faceless Blows
> Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Not sounds. But hammer strikes on raw flesh.
A room without windows. No light. Only an unlit torch watching silently.
Two guards. Shirts off. Steel gauntlets. Sweat mixed with sadism.
Before them… Dyor, hanging from a rope tied to the ceiling. Blindfolded. Exposed. His body—a punching bag.
One would strike. The other laughed. Then they swapped roles.
Between shifts, a young healer entered. Faint white essence. Trembling hands. He didn’t cure. Just prevented death.
> Thoughts: > “I can’t tell if the blows hurt more… or the healing. > How many times have they rebuilt me... just to break me again?”
The other villagers endured the same. No healer. No breaks. Their souls dimmed in the dark.
Elizabeth, the golden knight… was not beaten. She was shattered inside.
Taken to the top of a tower. The only door—sealed by ancient runes. Could only be opened from the outside.
At the center—one chair. Black essence swirled like liquid fog.
The room turned into a theater. Each wall projected visions. Not real... But convincing. Meticulously crafted.
The Memo Verum spell twisted memories. Planted guilt.
Elizabeth closed her eyes. But the essence… could paint even in the dark.
🎭 What Elizabeth 'remembered'
- Olimpus as her only family. - That her parents died of a plague… which she herself spread. - That she was enslaved, marked by guilt. - That only he freed her.
She saw herself healing an ungrateful prisoner—“Dyor”—who insulted her every day:
> “Hurry up. You’re a nuisance.” > “No idea why they let you live.” > “A failure like you doesn’t deserve that uniform.”
Yet she still tried to help. Freed villagers. Killed guards.
Then…
She saw Dyor betraying her.
Handing her over. Condemning her.
> But none of it was true. > Only programmed essence. > Mental clay molded by lies.
Slowly… Elizabeth forgot who she was.
Her white magic… withered like a burned petal.
What remained… was black essence.
⚔️ Scene: The Reunion
Five years later. Dyor fought endlessly. Broken body. No rest. Potions barely kept his organs functioning.
When they announced his next opponent… He didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.
Until he saw her.
Elizabeth.
The one who once healed. The one he called “my angel.”
She entered emotionless. Eyes carved from stone.
Dyor tried to speak.
She did not reply.
She moved forward.
And attacked.
💔 Scene: Blade Dance
Elizabeth wasn’t fighting. She performed a deadly choreography.
Each strike—surgical. As if she knew every inch of Dyor’s body.
He staggered. Bleeding. Dizzy.
Then… He dropped his sword. Opened his arms.
> Dyor’s thoughts: > “If she wants me dead… > Let it be by the soul that once saved me.”
A tear fell.
The crowd froze.
—He’s insane! —Elizabeth, finish him!
Elizabeth raised her blade. Dyor closed his eyes.
> BOOOOM. As if the universe screamed from its roots.
—STOP!
A voice thundered from above. Commanding. Otherworldly.
—What are you doing with that essence-less rat?
Elizabeth froze mid-strike. Dyor—panting, soaked in blood and sweat—trembled. A line of blood streaked his face.
The air thickened. Essence vibrated.
The voice echoed:
—Olimpus! —Did you really think this insect was Tenebrom’s son?
A deafening silence fell.
Even the light orbs seemed to dim.
Olimpus stepped down. Fell to his knees.
The one who spoke…
Stood six meters tall. Skin like living marble. Eyes like cosmic cracks.
The Elder of Terranova.
Everyone bowed. Foreheads touching the ground.
The duel...
No longer mattered.
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