The Mining City of Tormar, East Central Vorthe, 400 years ago.

“When is it expected to arrive?”

“A fourth of a fourth’s time, governor,” the scout said.

“Blasted! Close the gates and sound the bells, guards on the wall! Berma! Where’s Berma?!” the city governor roared.

They were under siege, not by an army, but by a single foe, a monster of terrifying power.

“This is a mining city, damn it!” Governor Duran Vorthe roared.

“You called, governor!” Berma arrived bowing deeply with a fist to his chest.

“Quickly, take this to Farryn. You need only crush it when you’re about a thousand paces away from the city.”

Berma looked at the object the city governor pushed into his hand. It was a round black tablet made of unknown material. He quickly placed it in his spatial ring and ran off.

The city bells rang at that moment. Duran could hear the inhabitants of Tormar from miles away close-up shop, many scurrying into their homes.

“Ah,” he sighed, the communications rune grafted into his skin glowed as he quickly sent a message to his personal guard.

Duran quickly reached his wardrobe and opened a secret compartment. A golden glint reflected on the walls of the wardrobe to reveal a suit of armor in pristine condition.

“It’s reached the north wall, governor,” a soft voice reached him from behind the dark red blinds of his floor-to-ceiling window.

“Get my son out of here,” Duran said as he donned his heavy breastplate.

“...”

“You are duty-bound to do as I bid, Milena.”

“...Yes, governor. May the heavens grant your soul safe passage to Valhalla’s gate, and may the stars be there to guide you yonder.”

“We Vorthes do not care for gods and their petty reign,” Duran spat.

Milena vanished with no trace of ever being there.

“Godspeed, Milena,” Duran muttered.

A battle raged on the outskirts of the city. The ground quaked as parts of the city wall came crumbling down. In no time, the enemy broke through the city’s defenses, and darkness deeper than the night spread out, paralyzing everyone around.

“Cease!” Duran roared as he shot forward in flight. He saw the carnage wrought by the monster and his anger was kindled.

Clad in golden armor, and brandishing a golden sword, he slashed at the fiend, creating a giant sword wave of golden light that pushed through the darkness in the direction of the monster.

The monster growled. With a swipe of its clawed hand, it commanded the darkness and destroyed the sword wave causing a shockwave to spread throughout the city. Houses crumbled in the distance and many of the inhabitants of the city died in droves. Many burst into blood and pulp as the shockwave spread throughout the city.

Duran scanned the city with his perception, taking note of the damage and he cursed under his breath. The monster extended the darkness towards Duran like the gnarled hand of a crone.

“Do not get too close,” deputy governor Gardis Vorthe spoke as he slashed with his sword, destroying the tendrils of darkness reaching for Duran. “It is powerful beyond its Realm.”

They both hovered mid-air out of range of the monster as the darkness encroached upon them. Circling around the creature to attack its blind spots, they danced around branding swords covered in golden light.

They both moved at lightning speeds, creating sonic booms in the air as they danced around the monster. With the swipe of a clawed hand, the creature destroyed three buildings, gathering the debris in the air with the darkness and knocking Duran out of the sky.

“Blasted!” he roared as he was knocked into a few more buildings. A wall of darkness appeared in front of Duran and he quickly halted mid-air. Blazing light wrapped around him to prevent the darkness from infecting him.

“Careful,” Gardis said.

The creature had broken their rhythm, going for the weaker of the two Sages. It shot towards Duran at high speeds. Gardis raced after it, severing tendrils of darkness and pushing back mental attacks. “Hold on, Duran!”

Duran Vorthe was not a warrior, at least not in the same capacity as Gardis. Duran continued destroying tendrils of darkness that were crippling his ability to sense or ‘see’ his foe.

Unbeknownst to him, the fiend had gotten behind him. The monster attacked but Gardis’ sword pierced through the darkness. The darkness collapsed in on itself as the golden light from the sword pushed it back. Gardis stabbed through its jaw. The monster screamed and went wild. It brandished the darkness like myriads of blades piercing through them both.

~~~

Duten Vorthe struggled at the hands of his father’s bodyguard as she dragged him away from the destruction in Tormar, a few of the members of his house fled but the rest of the city was immediately covered by darkness so deep it swallowed even light around it.

‘What could be so evil as to destroy a whole city?’ He thought in tears. His city was gone, and his father died protecting it. This was a great humiliation of their House. What would others say? How would he be viewed in the eyes of the other Royals? The boy who ran away from a monster?

~~~

The Royal Estate in Farryn, Central Capital of Vorthe. Present Day.

I could just snap him in two right now and be done with it, Elder Duten Vorthe thought to himself in anger. The kid in front of him was so small, with thin limbs and a beautiful face. One could mistake him for a girl.

“Rise,” Duten commanded in a deep voice. He looked the kid in the eyes for a few breaths more before leading him into a room with a large round table where he stood and asked Jerome for the Core of the Sunfire Wolf.

Elder Duten Vorthe was the Head Alchemist of the Royal family and a grandmaster of the Alchemic Path. He was a tall broad-chested man with a clean-shaven handsome face that made him look to be in his mid-thirties. But he always looked like he was spoiling for a fight.

Duten had heard that the fated Dark One had killed a Sunfire Wolf and quickly requested to meet with him. Every Elder of the royal family in addition to a few other vital members of the family was in the know as to Jerome’s true identity. They didn’t like it, but they could do nothing about it.

~~~

Jerome was confused and a bit upset. He’d never met this Elder before, so why was he angry at him? Did he lose a child in Pilgrims’ Keep? Jerome thought. And what’s with his eyes?

The Elder’s eyes were like Rihal’s, a deep unnatural purple with archaic runes etched into them, but the Elder’s eyes didn’t give him the same feeling Rihal’s did.

Is it something one develops at a certain Realm?

The Elder’s pupils returned to their normal black color, and he walked in as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary, which left Jerome even more confused. Rihal’s eyes never went back to normal, he thought.

Throughout their journey to the Keep and back. It wasn’t until they were at the edge of the Royal Estate that he put on his band to cover his eyes and took out his walking stick.

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Which means something’s wrong with Rihal’s eyes, Jerome concluded.

He went in with the Elder and walked towards a large circular table.

“Hand over the core,” Elder Duten ordered.

Jerome was taken aback.

“Elder I was told that my spoils are mine to do with as I pleased so...” Jerome tried to explain without sounding disrespectful or angry. Is this Elder trying to steal from me? he thought. How shameful!

Elder Duten didn’t listen to Jerome. He held his hand out and Jerome's pouch floated to his outstretched hand. Then he took out the Sunfire Wolf's core, examined it, and put it in his spatial ring. All the while Jerome tried to reign in his anger.

Elder Duten waved his hand and two pouches dropped in front of Jerome. “You may leave,” the Elder commanded.

Jerome picked up both pouches. He examined them and put them away. “Thank you for your generosity, Elder,” he said and walked out while burning with rage.

One of the pouches was his with everything intact in it. The other was filled with high-grade crystal coins. Rihal had explained to him what they were during their stay in Keep after his return.

When Jerome got to the Artifact Refiner, grandmaster Fesir Vorthe, the same process was repeated. He unwillingly handed over his storage back for inspection. When he got back to his room in Kilian’s Palace he was fuming with rage. He quickly took out the mind-calming stone and started to meditate.

This was his first encounter with such important figures in the Royal family and it was regrettable.

~~~

“How may I be of help to you, young master?” The maid asked.

“Call me Jerome. What’s your name?” Jerome asked.

She looked surprised by the question but answered, nonetheless. “I don't have one,” she said.

He expected that, and he would have loved to call her something, only, he didn”t know what toll it’d take on him. “What are you called then?” he asked.

“The maids in the Palace are called by number. I’m number seventeen,” she said.

How sad, Jerome thought. He also observed that she didn’t make eye contact when speaking. That’s the royals for you. They train their maids well. “Very well. I need everything on this list as soon as possible,” he said, handing her a sheet of paper with a list of items. “And if it’s possible to get more storage bags, do it.”

“Pardon, young master Jerome, but storage bags have to be requested personally. Please forgive my curtness,” seventeen said, bowing slightly.

“No worries,” Jerome replied and waved her off.

After seventeen left, Jerome went in search of Rihal. He walked towards the stairs leading to the upper floors while listening to the flurry of activities around him. It had been a year since he left, and he missed his friends and siblings. He wondered if Doti, Dreamer, and Whistle would have visited the orphanage. This would be a good time to find out how they were doing as well.

Ash would be twelve this year, Jerome thought.

The baby girl who was found at the doors of the orphanage, covered in ash, who used to cry herself to sleep because of hunger would shed her mortality this year. He smiled to himself as he recalled their faces, including the ones that had no names at all. These kids were family to him.

It seems the Palace is a lot more active today than usual. Is there a guest coming in? he mused.

People were moving things here and there. Some people were repainting a wall that had lost its color, and there were a few more walls like that around the Palace.

Jerome avoided the throng of people moving through the corridors as he headed toward Kilian’s study. He shut out the cacophony of voices only to hear something that surprised him.

“...but he’s only thirteen!”

Rihal? What’s got him all worked up, thought Jerome. He was still a few hundred paces and two floors away from Kilian’s study, but his hearing had improved greatly ever since Pilgrims’ Keep.

“The Elders say it’s dangerous to have him around since he had an episode during Pilgrims’ Keep. Please close the do—” and Kilian’s voice was cut off just like that.

Now he was curious. What are they discussing about me? Episode? They must mean the uncontrollable rage I felt almost throughout Pilgrims’ Keep. How did they know about that? Could they feel my emotions during Pilgrims’ Keep? He remembered Rihal saying there were artifacts that monitored everything that happened during Pilgrims’ Keep.

Do they have artifacts that could monitor emotions too? He quickly shook his head. That’ll be absurd, Jerome racked his brain for an answer but found none. His mind flashed to Three, the kid he dreamt about during Pilgrims’ Keep, and all the other kids. They all had one thing in common as they grew older, rage which seemed to never go away. He began climbing the stairs that led to Kilian’s floor without even thinking to do so. His steps, fluid and graceful like he was gliding on air.

Do I have the same issues as those kids? But I was able to keep my rage in check…well, partly because of the mind-calming stone. Majorly, that is. If we’re having the same symptoms, did they dream the same dreams?

“...Jerome?”

When Jerome came out of his musings, he was standing in front of Rihal.

“...Yes. I have a request,” he said, quickly regaining his composure.

Rihal said nothing, implying that he should go ahead and make his request.

“I need storage bags to carry my gifts for the children of the Orphanage to the slums,” he continued.

“How many?” Kilian asked from inside his study.

“As...many as I can get,” he answered.

“Very well,” Kilian said and quickly scribbled a note on a piece of paper. “Take this note to the south end of this floor. You’d meet a guard there who would help meet your request.” He passed the note to Jerome.

“Why is the Palace so active today?” Jerome asked.

“The Patriarch is coming home,” Rihal said.

Jerome looked from one man to the other. Neither of them revealed anything with their expressions. But he also felt like they were hiding something from him. Perhaps something he’s not meant to know about? But it just made him want to know more. Why were they talking about him? What did they know about him that he didn’t know? An ‘episode’? What the hell did that mean?

“Huh! Never knew he wasn’t in Farryn,” he muttered as he left.

~~~

“He may act mature but he’s still just a kid. I say we wait until the Patriarch gets home before making a decision.”

Kilian sighed. If it were left to him, he’d make sure Jerome gets as much normalcy in life as possible. But some of these Elders were holding onto past grudges, none of which have anything to do with Jerome.

The Elders had discussed Jerome’s removal from the Royal Estate and even though Kilian had tried his best to defend Jerome during the meeting, there wasn’t much he could do to change their decision.

“In the absence of the Patriarch, the First Elder makes all the decisions,” Kilian finally said. “It’ll make no difference how much we try to delay or argue, they’ve taken the decision they think is best for the Royal family—”

“Well, it’s a stupid decision,” Rihal countered. His voice, tight. He had been watching over the kid for a while now and he felt responsible for him. Rihal couldn’t quite decide if he saw the kid as his own or not, even though he knew Jerome wasn’t. All that mattered was that he was Kaia’s son; at least that’s what he told himself.

Kilian watched Rihal fume quietly in anger and sighed. He couldn't blame the man for being angry. Jerome’s mother was the love of his life. Any sane person would feel responsible for the offspring of their dead lover.

“We should prepare a place for him. Preferably somewhere close to the orphanage. What do you think?” Kilian said, trying to compensate for not being able to sway the Elders.

Rihal nodded, still not liking the decision.

“You should talk to him though. If he has any complaints, just let me know,” Kilian said.

“He won't.”

~~~

Rihal had been watching over Jerome since he was born, and he had taken a liking to the kid ever since. It didn’t matter to him that Jerome was the fated Dark One, he was still a kid nonetheless, and a good kid at that.

And he had hopes for the kid that maybe, just maybe…

At this period of Jerome’s life, they had to help him as much as possible to achieve clarity of mind, but this was probably his own bias. He didn’t go through what those Elders who lost family members to the previous Dark One went through.

Rihal sighed and was about to knock on Jerome’s door when his communications rune glowed on the back of his palm. He quickly activated it only to hear Kilian telling him to abort. He disappeared on the spot, reappeared outside Kilian’s study, and walked in.

“What happened?”

“It sure is nice to have the ability to teleport, isn’t it?” Kilian grinned sheepishly at him.

“Get to the point,” Rihal said impatiently.

“The Sovereign sent a message,” Kilian said.

“And?” Rihal tried to hurry him.

“The Sovereign said he can stay here, as long as we find out how he was able to reign in the beast?”

“Reign in the beast, what do you mean?” Rihal asked, clearly confused.

He couldn’t be blamed for his ignorance as not many among the Royals knew the details of what it meant to be the Dark One. Most of the younger generation didn’t even know there was a Dark One.

“I don’t know much about it either,” Kilian said. “Apparently, none of the others before him were able to rein in their rage. The rage being the beast, or so the Elders say.”

“The rage is a… beast? What the hell does that mean?” Rihal muttered, frustrated. But soon, it dawned on him what he just heard. “You mean to say his predecessors were never able to quell their rage, but he did?”

Kilian hummed his answer and smiled. Rihal laughed. “The kid never stops to amaze,” he brightened.

“So what do you think about how he did it,” Kilian asked as he popped a fruit into his mouth.

“No idea, but now I’m curious to find out,” Rihal said as he reached his hand into the fruit basket on the table.

“He only revealed Adama’s gauntlets and the Sunfire stone to me.”

“There’s no rush. The Sovereign never specified haste.”

“Hmm. Let’s give him this period to go enjoy familiar company. I’ll find out when he gets back.”

~~~

Weird, Jerome thought. He felt someone at his door a few moments ago and went to check, hoping it was Rihal, but they were gone like they were never there.

Jerome had finished his preparations. All he needed now was to head to the slums. The maid, Seventeen, was very efficient as well. She was able to gather everything on his list in only a few hours.

All that was left to do now was wait for tomorrow but in the meantime, he practiced wielding Suzie.