The robed man looked at the young youth made for sacrifice began to rise from his table.

He set his holy book right in front of him and prostrated with his head locked in respect.

"I, Gray Servant Morris welcome you, King!"

The sense of accomplishment sent countless efforts of evading crusader patrols was all worth the attainment. The numbness of his fulfillment caused all of his fatigue to ease from his elderly body. Days of fasting was no more, as a grand feast awaited for his return to Sanctuary with their King would be phenomenal! The crowning of the Fallen was near.

Morris braced for any questions answered but all that came was footsteps in the bloody puddle laid by the sacrifice.

The sounds confused his mind and he replayed everything that would gain favor for the exalted being before him.

Morris dared raise his head to see nothing and turned back. Their hard work was just taking off and leaving. No gratitude whatsoever?

He rose as fast as he could to stop the man in front.

"W-wait! Aren't we're your subjects?"

He raced towards his front and placed his frail arms.

The man stared blankly at him before raising his arm. Expectations led him to believe he was gonna be knighted by the King himself, blinding his thoughts.

In his mindful stupor, all that came was a shove. Pushed aside from his position with the man wandering to the exit once more.

Trembling was all he felt, his heart furious to the man before him. The source of all his anguish and efforts in vain worth nothing in front of the man.

"You! You are not the King! Guards seize him immediately!"

This was all a set up to get the King to do their bidding, a fail-safe for when the king was not of their liking. The body used to perform the ritual were usually weak.

The two men behind them were awaiting some form of orders and performed their duty.

The sound of swords being drawn as they approached the man in front.

*Shiing*

but their sense of unease was not the man that they demanded to attack. But the words that came out his mouth was of an ancient tongue, unable to translate what the words meant, they comprehended the ferocity behind those words.

-_-_-_-

The moisture in the small damp cave filled his nostrils. The dark dim torch lit up the surroundings, each meticulously placed to form a path to an altar above one of the rocks above the stalagmites.

He swallowed painfully as the driedness slowly set in his throat. His eyes open revealing the emerald-green and the azure dots. The sound tickled his brain with the hearing of his own beating heart.

The feeling of his entire back laid down on the stone cold surface, body not resonating any heat.

'So I am alive...'

His encounter of being in this realm brought his new composure to the world.

Getting used to his bodily functions, he rose an arm in an unstable manner that caused it to fall back down.

But nonetheless, his attempts continued before he was able to raise his entire body in a resting position as he sat upon the table.

His eyes had begun getting used to the light before the very sight amused him.

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Hundreds of bodies and hundreds of thousands of small gems with a purple amethyst sheen.

'What a sight to behold'

That was when he glanced downwards towards his lower regions.

'To think they got the size just right.'

A small chuckle sounded in his mind as he looked up.

Three kneeling humans were in front of him, shaking occasionally despite him doing nothing.

The one centered between the two began spouting out strange gibberish in his mouth, the words were estranged and sounded very horrible to his ears.

His hand rose to analyze his own body; touching any parts available which revealed intricate patterns on his chest, shapes, and lines drained away his stamina continuously.

Narrowing his eyes, he stood forward.

Each step sounded his ears like a wet sensation around the puddles.

He passed the beings in a sluggish way as he got used to walking.

But as he done so, the one in the middle rushed towards him in an extreme approach, not caring for his feeble body, the sound of bones rubbing against each other on his thin build.

The weird sounds came out once more and a grasp of cold hands on his arm.

He would've felt a tinge of gratitude for his revival, but the marks on his body spoke otherwise.

Some sort of restriction magic place caused each step as labor-intensive.

he shoved away the man in front, nearly reaching the exit as a night sky greeted his awakening. Thousands of stars and the celestial moon blanketed the sky.

He took a deep breath, the cold mountain air filled his lungs before being released as an icy fog.

As he was going to take another step to explore his new surroundings.

*Shing*

His eyes narrowed. Veins bulged from his bare-bone arms from their actions. His eyes were blazing with red, the illuminating moon brought out the glowing of his eyes.

Eyes that spoke no more chances as the cold enveloped.

"I gave you a chance to atone for weakening my humble body. But you did not take it."

The air was trembling as it shook vigorously around his body.

The robed man spoke another word and the two charged.

Morris began emanating an aura as it chanted some words, a small fissure allowed a magic circle to form. A small black snake flew from the circle and towards him.

An Elementary Grade Shadow Magic, Shadow Chain.

"Do you really think weakening my physical body would do you any good. I feel quite disgusted that you think that meager chain will stop me."

The etching circle began being drawn, the mana in the air accumulating in each part of its formation.

"Face your own error for underestimating my abilities."

A strange language flew out of his mouth.

The words brought the world screaming all around, for each word spoken, a storm brew around the circle, the air began warping in a strange matter and turning grey.

A world of no color soon invaded the space.

The sense of fear dreaded each mind of the two. The other defiant and deluged from his arrogant behavior.

That was when they knew that they went down the wrong road.

One single word was enough to shroud all in its path.

A magic was forgotten by the annals of time now present in the modern-day.

The name of the spell was simple but tremendously powerful.

"Drown, Shadow Plain." All was engulfed into oblivion.

-

He woke out of the cave seemingly unscathed. A new set of armor and a robe as an outcome of the encounter.

He checked around for knowledge dating back to his own, with the only solid base that the world was of his own.

A small book pile was the result of his work. Each word unknown to the man, but one book caught his eyes.

One book found separate from the rest and placed right in front where the robed man was on his knees.

The dialect that he loved and spoke.

It simply translated to 'Book'.

Picking up the book, he found one word that stood out from the rest. But come as a disappointment to himself as a word was only repeated multiple times.

The word 'King'.

He sighed for the waste of time he had done as the ticking of time ensued.

The magic he used was the weakest he knew, not even worthy of being called a spell of destruction.

Heretic Magic, Shadow Plain.

Just enough to slay the Elementary Grade Magician and the two grunts that were so weak they had no technique.

But just that magic caused great exhaustion for his body, unable to bear the weak magic.

A line formed just around the side of his mouth, a streak of red and pain came along.

Instead of feeling hurt, the exhilaration was all he could muster.

The feeling of being alive.

'I need to find a place to rest. And research some of the memories in this kid.'

Just some steps towards the outer region of the cave was a breath, fighting for survival even to its lasting moment.

The exhaustion began causing his body to feel heavy and he needed someone to care for his slumber. Any animal would be enough to kill him in half a breath.

The child in front of him would be just enough, and more a form of respect of being alive at the moment. A rebellious nature one could feel of youthfulness.

He chanted another spell. A green circle formed beneath the girl as he spoke the name of the spell in a drained slur.

The grey aura filled the circle and began to restore all her wounds. Her human physique morphing slightly from the change.

"Heretic Magic, Seal of Servitude. You shall be called...Wendall."

A second passed and he could feel the world fade into black.

"And you shall call me, Kallistar."

The first word that came out of his head through its lasting moment.

As the world turned black in its entirety, his eyes widened metaphorically in surprise.

'To think this child would be...'

He could not finish his words in time.