The world of Vastera had a tyrant. A being in the shape of a black dragon. A being of power beyond the reach of humanity. Or at least, should have been. It is told in legends that six warriors rose up to kill that dragon. Those brave mortals in turn, split the dragon’s strength amongst themselves and gained eternal life.
A young boy stood there. The expression on his face was one of shock and fear. It was the year 1254 of the Age of Stability, and he started the day off just as any other: Searching for edibles to bring back home in the Great forest of Yoell. However, today was not the same as the day before, or the day before that, or any other day in the history of Vastera.
The Year 1254 would be known as a year of great change. The day the Six warriors waged battle against the Black Dragon God in the largest forest of the continent. And won.
The boy had stumbled across that epic scene.
Five hooded figures were striking against the thick scales of a massive Creature. Each strike would make a dent in the lustrous material, but would never break through it, no matter the force applied.
The earth shook, and beams of dark mana struck down, the warriors barely dodging them. The black pillars tore through the earth like nothing, leaving massive holes.
Another figure could be seen behind the first group, brandishing his sword in a reversed grip as if he were challenging the ground beneath him. Wisps of bright blue and dark purple magic swirled from the tip of the sword and around the blade, before disappearing at the hilt as if never existing in the first place. The Figure, after remaining in this position for what seemed like minutes, flipped his blade into a frontal grip and raised it into the air, beckoning a massive helix of magic to lower from the skies and cover his weapon.
The dragon turned to face him, opening his mouth and gathering energy in it’s jaws. The sky seemingly cracked and splintered around the mass of mana, and a sound similar to the screeching of fingers on a chalkboard could be heard.
The group of hooded figures parted, and the man charged the dragon, jumping up and releasing his energy into the sword before slamming it towards the dragon’s head.
The Dragon released the energy it built up. A black stream that broke apart the air it touched like glass shot forth.
Time paused for a moment.
And then a deafening *CRACK!* resounded through the forest as the two energies collided.
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shock-waves ripped through the trees and uneven ground, bringing ruination upon the once great forest.
By a stroke of luck, the boy survived the initial blast and was thrown backwards before hitting the ground. A small crater was formed where he landed, him being the center.
The explosion of magic that had destroyed the place he knew as home broke bones, tore muscles, and ravaged intestines.
In the end, the dragon’s strength finally failed it.
The mass of bright mana radiating from the warrior's sword overpowered the monster's breath, and severed it's head from it's neck.
Seven black crystals exploded from the Dragon’s wound, scattering across the wasteland.
Each crystal looked like a glowing black orb, and absorbed the sunlight that it touched.
One such sphere landed before quickly gliding across the ground, and into the depression of compacted dirt that broke the boy’s fall.
The warriors quickly searched for the crystals, finding six of them and concluding they could see no more. Splitting them between themselves, they looked at each other one last time, before turning from the rest of the group and speeding off.
~+~
The boy looked down at the glowing crystal. It was pulsing to the Dragon’s last heartbeats.
Suddenly, the boy had the urge to devour that crystal, to eat the glowing orb that seemed in his mind to be the tastiest food he had laid eyes upon.
Perhaps, it was primal instinct. The subconscious desire for strength. The ever greedy abyss, planted in all humans from their birth to end, that always craved more power.
Or perhaps, the child already in a desperate condition, grasped his one chance to survive.
All he could feel was the titanic sense of longing in his mind.
Shuddering from his ruptured organs and torn body, he reached outwards and grazed the glowing orb with his hand. The contact, however small it was, was enough to send the crystal rolling towards him. Collapsing, he could no longer bring his limbs to work. With the last bit of strength left in his frail body, he heaved his head over the crystal, before voraciously tearing it apart with his teeth.
A cold sensation ran across his back and through his spine as he swallowed. The boy shivered, before convulsing in agony. Unimaginable pain coursed through his body, before he hit his threshold and passed out.