The Prince Of Darkness

At the Citadel, the Council Hall of the Azeron Guardians was a bastion of order, history, and tradition. Massive blue banners hung from towering stone walls, adorned with glowing symbols of Lumina. The grand arena within the hall held rows of elevated seats, where nobles, commanders, and the elite of the Blue Clan gathered, their faces etched with concern. Sunlight streamed through high windows, illuminating the ancient carvings etched into the stone—reminders of past battles and victories that had defined their people.

In the center of the hall, raised on a platform of smooth stone, stood the Council Leader. His robes shimmered in the light, a flowing cascade of blue and white, adorned with intricate patterns that marked his authority. His presence alone commanded silence, and as he stood from his seat, the crowd's murmurs fell into an expectant hush.

“We gather today,” the Council Leader began, his voice resonating across the hall, “not in celebration, but in concern.” His eyes swept across the assembly, resting briefly on each face. “The Crimson Dynasty grows bolder. Their raids on human villages, their assaults on our people—these are not the actions of an ordinary aggressor. They are seeking something. We must uncover their purpose before it’s too late.”

A ripple of unease moved through the nobles and commanders seated in the hall. The tension was palpable, the unspoken fear that there was more to the Crimson Dynasty’s attacks than mere conquest.

The Council Leader paused, allowing his words to settle over the gathering like a heavy cloak. “It is not enough to defend ourselves. We must understand the enemy, or we risk losing far more than just our borders. We risk losing everything.”

He turned his gaze toward the entrance, where a battle-worn soldier stood, his armor dented and streaked with ash. His steps were slow, burdened by the weight of both his injuries and the knowledge he carried. The soldier, the one who rescued Renjiro, limped forward, stopping before the raised platform. He bowed, his expression grim.

“My lords,” the soldier began, his voice hoarse but resolute. “I bring troubling news from the frontlines.”

The Council Leader gestured for him to continue.

“I fought in the skirmish near the border. The Crimson Dynasty was relentless—burning villages, taking prisoners—but their raids were different this time. They weren’t looking for resources or land.”

The council stirred. The tension in the air thickened.

“What were they after?” the Council Leader asked, his voice a mix of calm authority and quiet dread.

The soldier’s face paled, his hands trembling slightly as he spoke. “They were searching for something… something they believe holds immense power. I overheard their commanders speaking of it.”

He hesitated, the weight of his next words clear in his faltering breath. “They called it the coordinate.”

A murmur spread through the hall, the words catching on the lips of every noble and commander. 

The Council Leader’s gaze sharpened. “Coordinated? What do you mean?”

The soldier swallowed hard. “I heard one of their officers say it was vital to their mission. They believe it has the power to shift the balance of the war.”

A moment of stunned silence fell over the assembly before one of the older nobles, his face lined with age and experience, stood. Though his voice was calm, it carried a skeptical edge. “This is nonsense. This sounds like a myth—a tale to frighten children.”

Another noble, a younger man with piercing eyes, stood to rebut him. “The Crimson Dynasty has never cared for myths. If they search for this coordinate, they must believe it holds real power.”

The Council Leader remained silent, his eyes narrowing in thought. He looked at the soldier again. “Is there more? Did you hear anything else?”

The soldier hesitated, his voice trembling now. “There was… something else, my lord.”

The hall fell deathly quiet. The soldier’s fear was palpable, hanging like a storm on the horizon. He took a deep breath, his eyes darting nervously to the faces of the council members as if unsure he should even speak the next words.

“I overheard a name, my lord. A name I’ve only ever heard in old stories… in legends.”

The Council Leader leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “What name?”

The soldier swallowed hard, his voice a bare whisper. “The Prince of Darkness.”

The sound of the name sounded like a blow to the room. The reaction was instant: gasps, startled murmurs, and expressions of shock and disbelief rippled through the council. Heavy tension filled the hall like the walls had recoiled at the name.

“Prince of Darkness?” Commander Thalor, seated at the front, muttered, “That cannot be.”

Captain Rei, seated beside Thalor, remained silent for a moment, his expression hardening. His gaze shifted, distant, as though the name had unearthed a long-buried memory. “The Prince of Darkness,” he said, his voice cold. “The first Red Lumina user.”

A nobleman in the back stood abruptly, his voice rising in protest. “This is absurd! He was a nightmare from a time long forgotten for thousands of years!”

But the fear in the room was undeniable. Even those who doubted the story couldn’t ignore the weight of the soldier’s words.

The council fell into a heavy silence. The weight of the soldier’s revelation pressed down on them like a crushing force. The Council Leader stood slowly, his eyes sweeping over the room, taking in the shock and fear that gripped his people.

“If this is true,” the Council Leader said, “then we must act. Swiftly. We cannot allow the Crimson Dynasty to succeed in their planned madness. We will increase our surveillance of their movements and track down every lead. We will continue our missions and find any information about the coordinate and this ancient warrior. But no matter what...”

He paused, “ We must be ready. May Remedias watch over all of us.”

A somber silence filled the hall, the weight of the situation settling over them all. This was no longer a mere war with the Crimson Dynasty. This was far older, darker, and more dangerous than anyone had imagined.

The Council Hall of the Azeron Guardians had mostly emptied, but a sense of unease hung in the air, thicker than the shadows that stretched across the grand stone arena. Nobles and commanders murmured amongst themselves as they departed, but Captain Rei remained. His sharp gaze followed the battered soldier who lingered near the platform. His body showed battle scars, but something deeper weighed his mind down.

Rei’s steps were silent as he approached the man, his presence felt before a word was spoken. The soldier stiffened slightly, quickly turning and bowing his head as soon as he saw Rei standing before him.

“Captain Rei, sir,” the soldier greeted, his voice still rough from exhaustion. “How may I assist you?”

Rei’s cold blue eyes locked onto him as if searching for the unspoken truth behind his words. He studied the soldier briefly before speaking, his tone as calm and measured as ever. “You did well to report the Crimson Dynasty’s search for the coordinate,” Rei said, his voice quiet but filled with authority. “But I suspect there’s something else you haven’t shared.”

The soldier blinked, startled. “Sir? I reported everything about the Crimson Dynasty.”

Rei’s gaze hardened. “You encountered something unusual, didn’t you? Something beyond their search.”

The soldier hesitated, his breath catching for a moment. He hadn’t planned to reveal the rest of what he had seen, unsure if it mattered in the grand scheme. But now, faced with Captain Rei’s scrutiny, he knew he couldn’t hide anything.

“There… there was something else, sir,” the soldier admitted, “During a raid near the Great Mountains, in a secluded village.”

Rei’s interest sharpened, though his expression remained cool. “Go on.”

“I encountered a boy there. A Luminarian—though he didn’t seem to know anything about our world. He lived among the humans, unaware of the conflict beyond his village.”

Rei’s eyes narrowed, but instead of surprise, a flicker of recognition crossed his face. “A Luminarian in a secluded village…” His voice trailed off  before he added, “What was his name?”

The soldier hesitated, confused by the sudden shift in Captain Rei’s demeanor. “Renjiro, sir. His name was Renjiro.”

Rei’s gaze darkened, a storm brewing behind his calm exterior. Of course. The boy from the training grounds. The one who shattered the training pillar earlier into bits with that raw burst of Lumina energy. He hadn’t known where Renjiro had come from.

Renjiro wasn’t just an anomaly; he was a dangerous unknown—someone whose existence had been hidden in the mountains, away from the eyes of all Chromaris.

“And you’re certain he knew nothing about the wider world?” 

“Yes, sir,” the soldier confirmed. “He seemed confused, almost like he didn’t even know what Lumina energy was."

Rei’s jaw clenched slightly. The sheer force Renjiro had unleashed obliterated the training pillar in an instant. It hadn’t been skill or precision, just raw, unbridled power.

The soldier looked up, confused. “Sir?”

Rei waved a hand. “That will be all. You’ve done your duty. Dismissed”

The soldier bowed again, grateful for the dismissal, and hurried off, leaving Rei alone in the now-quiet hall. But Rei didn’t move. His mind churned with possibilities and the growing realization that Renjiro was no ordinary recruit.