Prologue: Whispers of Destiny

In the frozen wastes of the northernmost Aran'Shay mountains, where eternal winter reigned and reality itself seemed to waver, there stood a structure that defied mortal comprehension. Not quite fortress, not quite prison, it was a monument to divine punishment and unholy ambition. At its heart, encased in a chrysalis of unbreakable ice, lay the physical form of Sanctus, the Fallen One.

Once the brightest of the Creator's angels, Sanctus now seethed with a hatred as old as time itself. His perfect, terrible body remained motionless within its frozen tomb, a reminder of the Creator's power and judgment. Yet his essence, his very soul, remained unbound, reaching out across the vastness of Velthorn, whispering dark promises and sowing the seeds of conflict.

On this night, as the aurora borealis danced across the sky in patterns that spoke of cosmic secrets, Sanctus's consciousness stirred. The time had come to set in motion the next phase of his grand design. With a thought, he projected his ethereal form across leagues, manifesting in the opulent study of Duke Veldrin's mansion in distant Greland.

The Duke and his wife, Lady Veldrin, felt the temperature in the room plummet as Sanctus's presence filled the space. Candles flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as a form began to coalesce before them. It was beautiful and terrible to behold - a being of light and shadow, with wings that seemed to span the breadth of the room and eyes that burned with celestial fire.

"My lord," Duke Veldrin stammered, dropping to one knee. Beside him, Lady Veldrin did the same, her silver hair seeming to writhe of its own accord in the presence of such power.

Sanctus regarded them with a mixture of amusement and disdain. These mortals, so frail and fleeting, yet useful in their own way. "Rise," he commanded, his voice like the crack of glaciers and the howl of winter storms.

As the Veldrins stood, Sanctus's gaze swept across the study, taking in the trappings of mortal wealth and power with barely concealed contempt. "How... quaint," he mused, a smirk playing across his ethereal features. "You mortals and your petty attempts at grandeur. If only you could comprehend true glory."

Duke Veldrin bristled slightly at the implied insult but quickly smoothed his features. "We live to serve you, my lord," he said, bowing his head. "How may we further your grand design?"

Sanctus's laughter filled the room, a sound that sent shivers down the spines of both Veldrins. "Ah, yes. My 'grand design.' Tell me of our progress in this realm of dust and shadow."

Lady Veldrin stepped forward, her voice steady despite the trembling in her hands. "The North grows stronger by the day, my lord. Your whispers spread through every level of society. The seeds of chaos and ambition you've planted flourish in fertile soil."

"And the South weakens," Duke Veldrin added, a cruel smile playing across his lips. "Their vaunted unity fractures under the weight of their own diversity. We've stoked the flames of old prejudices, turned neighbor against neighbor. When the time comes, they will crumble before the might of the North."

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Sanctus nodded, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. "Excellent. You've played your parts well, my pawns. Soon, this mortal realm will be consumed by war. The souls claimed in that glorious conflict will fuel my power, allowing me to break free of this prison." His eyes blazed brighter, filled with prideful ambition. "And then, I shall challenge the Creator himself. He will rue the day He cast me down, thinking to confine one such as I to this pitiful world."

But suddenly, Sanctus's expression changed. The confident smirk faltered, replaced by a look of confusion, then concern. "What is this?" he murmured, more to himself than to the Veldrins. "A ripple in the grand design... a shadow on the horizon of fate..."

The air in the study seemed to thicken as Sanctus extended his perceptions, searching for the source of this disturbance. Images began to form in the smoke rising from the fireplace - vague at first, then growing clearer. A young man with determination burning in his eyes, his hand resting on a spear that glowed with a light that made Sanctus recoil. Beside him, a small figure with green skin and fiery red hair, her orange eyes filled with a defiance that seemed to challenge fate itself.

"Who are they?" Duke Veldrin demanded, leaning forward to study the smoky images.

Sanctus's eyes narrowed, his voice a low hiss of fury. "I know not their names, but I sense the Creator's hand upon them. A human boy and a goblin girl - insignificant specks, and yet they threaten to undo all we have wrought."

Lady Veldrin's hand moved to the hilt of her dagger. "We'll have them found and eliminated at once, my lord."

"No!" Sanctus roared, causing the very foundations of the mansion to tremble. "It will not be so simple. I sense... protection around them. The Creator shields them from my sight, confounding my ability to locate them precisely." He paused, considering. "They will be difficult to find, but find them you must. Seek out a human youth and a goblin girl traveling together - an unusual pair that should draw attention. When you locate them, capture them. Perhaps we can use them in our plans."

Duke Veldrin's eyes remained fixed on the image of the goblin girl, his face twisting with disgust. Deep-seated prejudices bubbled to the surface, sparking the first embers of a plan separate from Sanctus's commands.

"We will not fail you, my lord," Lady Veldrin assured their master, her voice filled with zealous devotion.

Sanctus turned his burning gaze upon them both, his voice dripping with menace. "See that you don't. For if you do..." He let the threat hang in the air, unspoken but understood.

With a sound like reality tearing at the seams, Sanctus's ethereal form began to dissipate. But before he vanished entirely, he fixed the Veldrins with one last, piercing look. "Remember, you are but instruments of my will. Your petty ambitions, your mortal desires - they mean nothing in the grand tapestry of my design. Serve me well, and you shall have a place in the new order I shall forge. Fail me, and your souls will fuel the fires of my ascension."

And then he was gone, leaving behind only a lingering chill and the acrid scent of ozone.

The Veldrins stood in silence for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Lady Veldrin's face was set with determination to carry out Sanctus's will. But in Duke Veldrin's eyes, there was a flicker of something else - ambition, perhaps.

Far to the west, in a small village nestled in a valley, a young man prepared for the pilgrimage that would change his life forever. And in an unlikely mountain pass, an unnamed goblin woman fought to survive another day, unaware that she stood at the precipice of a destiny greater than she could imagine.

Unseen by mortal eyes, angelic figures watched over them both. Michael, Gabriel, and their brethren prepared to offer aid against the dark forces aligning against these unlikely heroes. For in Mikhail and Anora's journey lay the potential to challenge the divisions Sanctus had so carefully cultivated, and perhaps, to change the very fate of Velthorn itself.