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Prologue- Forlorn Traditions

Prologue- Forlorn Traditions

“You see, Ceron…”

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Nethera was a beautiful woman. Her golden hair fell in luxurious waves down her back, crowning a sweet and calm face, along as highlighting her slanted gold-colored cat eyes. Her body had curves in all the right places, her back stood straight and tall; she was truly the perfect picture of a mature and elegant beauty.

If it wasn’t for the tiny black horns on her head or her long pitchfork tail, it would be impossible to tell that she had such a reckless and cruel personality.

“It is time, Ceron.”

Along with these ominous words, she cheerfully threw the curved short sword in her hands at the body sized lump on the bed. A small hand flashed out, and, with inhuman like reflexes, Ceron caught the handle an instant before it could impale him.

There was a long silence that consisted of the small boy staring dozily at the sword, until he finally understood just what had just happened. When he looked up at his crackbrained mother, he gave her a glare that would have converted a lesser woman to ashes in seconds. She gave him a small smile.

“I only have a few minutes left, Ceron…”

Ceron face softened. Nodding, he followed her outside, where his father was already waiting.

Veneer was as handsome as Nethera was beautiful. He had straight blue-black hair, inhumanly dark eyes, and riskily bulging muscles. Besides a spiked dragon tail he had two giant curved horns on the side of his head along with one smaller one in the middle, giving off a cool and dangerous vibe, one quite different from Nethera’s graceful aura.

Once again, it is proven that appearances can be deceiving.

He gave them a half-hearted grin when they approached him.

“Let’s get this over with quickly, hmmm? How long do we have now, hmm, Nethera?”

Nethera twitched. She wished she could continue her life’s mission to beat him into talking like a normal person, but she was finding it harder and harder to behave normally herself. She could hear her heartbeat slowing, each second closer and closer to death’s door.

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Ceron watched stoically as his mother and father stood side by side, silently waiting for a signal. Slowly his mother nodded her head. Without an ounce of hesitation, Ceron lifted the sword in preparation. Dark and light mana mixed together as he put his all into his attack. The sword, once stark black, now seemed to glow light silver as it absorbed his magical energy. With a mighty swing that seemed to cut the air itself, the sword’s blade flew towards Nethera’s and Veneer’s unprotected necks.

PLOP

PLOP

Though Ceron heard the sounds, his vison was too blurry to make out anything. Exhaustion pumped through his veins, and he sensed rather than felt himself stumble. As he fell unconscious, he said the first and only words he had said that day.

“Goodbye…See you in hell.”

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“You see, Ceron…the most significant Vancerea tradition is our death ceremony.”

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4 & ½ Years Later…

As Ceron looked at the cave that had been his home for the first 13 years of his life, he was assaulted with memories of the last moments with his parents.

“And I’m back here…a thousand years too soon.”

Instead of the usual scowl, he sported a tiny, uncharacteristic smile.

Ceron took a small step into the cave, before his eyes widened in surprise as he felt himself trip. He had one thought,

(where did this hole come from?)

before he fell too deep in the abyss to stay conscious. Moments afterward, with a small

ding!

an odd screen suddenly appeared.

Your character has been successfully created. Welcome, Otherworlder, to Gaia!

Somewhere, someplace, a lot of people fell down laughing as they saw Ceron Vancerea trip and fall into a hole. They paid dearly for it, sure, but in their eyes it was worth it, just to see that shocked expression on his face.

Of course, that is a story for another time.

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