Arc I Prologue
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Arc I Prologue


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00.00.0000 Anno Imperii

 

White, white, white as far as her eyes reached. To the horizon and beyond, her world was painted white, engulfed in nothing but unrelenting, pouring light. 

 

Intense light blinded her vision, merciless and unforgiving. Her vision was limited, blurred and muddy at best. Her head felt heavy, dizzy. Her world was spinning like wild.

 

Nevertheless, the all devouring light represented only a minor annoyance, a trifling matter compared to far more pressing concerns. Her current state was beyond deplorable, closer to the realm of the dead than to the world of the living.

 

So this was the end of her road. It was a pleasure as long as it lasted. Everyone was destined to perish one day, succumbing to the irresistible passage of time. Some answered the call later. Some earlier. And yet she was still here, still living, still breathing. Her consciousness hadn't faded. Her soul hadn't fractured. Even her body had survived the ordeal.

 

Death was already prepared to claim his share, albeit prematurely. A girl of her tender age was too young to die. An innocent maiden of pure heart, ripped far too early from life by the cruel vagrancies of fate. A tragedy for those who mourned her death. A glimmer of hope for those who cursed her name under their whispered breath.

 

Ultimately, she had failed her mission, and those who believed in her. Honour. Loyalty. Blood. Death. Pain. Sacrifice. All was for naught. Perhaps we all strove for too much? In the end, the impossible, our hopes, our dreams, our visions, was never meant to be. That was her only regret, as her whole body lay broken on the ground.

 

Her legs, her arms, her muscles, her bones, an endless agony of pain and suffering befell her. Death cost her dearly. Her right femur lay shattered. Her lung punctured. Her inner organs ruptured. Blood stained her uniform, her blood. Her body was a living corpse beyond salvation. What a befitting end. Those who live by the sword, will die by the sword.

 

But life made her a stubborn girl, a girl who refused to die. The last page of her history was not written yet. Mere steel alone could not kill her. It took forces beyond human effort to vanquish her existence.

 

Her hand trembled and pain shot through her body. Her breathing grew heavy, unsteady. Her lungs coughed blood, a constant companion, but her iron will would persist. This would not be her end. Death didn't know her. The world didn't know her.

 

Fighting her surging pain, she rose from the ground, standing once again on her own unsteady feet. Her mana and her magic, slowly returned, and thus her strength. It was her first victory in the afterlife.

 

A fine amethyst mist engulfed her body to perform its duty. Shrouded in a dark, otherworldly purple, her wounds healed, her body regenerated. Her recovery proceeded as planned. It would take time, but she saw little reason to complain. Survival was her priority, and time was in plentiful supply in the afterlife. 

 

The burning light continued to overwhelm, but her eyes gradually adapted to the brightness. A few glances sufficed to draw her conclusions, she hated this place with pure, undiluted disgust. Light. Light. Light everywhere. A disheartening sight. Nevertheless, the light seemed different, ... alien. It looked like light. It felt like light, but it wasn't.

 

And it was not just the light. This place felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. As if infected by a strange, unknown aura. The light. The air. The aether. Nothing was like she remembered. This world wasn't hers.

 

Where was she? Wherever she looked, ashen wasteland greeted her, desolate emptiness, barren nothingness without life. Fine granular sand covered the ground.

 

Solitude. She was alone, completely alone, trapped in this white hell for the rest of eternity. Was this the punishment for her sins? To witness her existence whither away until the end of days?

 

Fortunately, fate favoured her beloved child. Not everything was lost yet, and her white hell wasn't as dead as she was made to believe. A rich, pleasant flavour permeated the air, a flavour she was only too familiar with, aether. Untapped magic potential saturated the land. This was a place filled to the brim with aether.  The elements were strong. Her senses spotted traces of wind, water, ice, earth, lightning, light, and even traces of comforting fire and darkness.

 

A loud crack disturbed her pristine peace. A rift opened, growing larger and larger. The boundaries of the world failed to contain the ever expanding breach. Like glass, the brittle veil of reality shattered. The world crumbled only to be devoured by a purple glowing rift.

 

Aurora was right all along, this was not the end. This was only the beginning.

 


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