Newfear

In the blink of an eye, the scene changed.

The room had emptied, and the darkness receded from its walls, leaving behind a ruin carved within every heart. But somewhere far away, on a high cliff above the ocean, one figure remained.

Raymond. Sitting alone.

The Lands of Varlom – There, at the very edge of the world where the deep waters met the gray sky, Raymond sat near the grave of a comrade who would speak no more.

His name was carefully etched into the blue stone, shimmering under the dim light. "Aqua Nightover." He sat there as if time had swallowed everything around him.

His hand trembled as he grasped a handful of dirt from the grave. A faint scowl formed on his lips, his expression an entanglement of pain and anger. His heart burned as he recalled those moments, as if everything had slipped through his fingers.

Raymond sat in silence, staring at the name carved into the stone, as if making sure that, this time, its owner would not answer. He exhaled slowly before speaking, his voice quiet but sharp.

Raymond: "You fool..."

He spoke softly, lost in the emptiness left behind by the war he had fought, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. Tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Even pain itself screamed within him, yet there was no escape. For the first time, he understood that everything he had endured had been nothing but an illusion. That the end had begun the moment he chose to walk this dark path.

He continued staring at the engraved name, as if looking at it long enough might bring him back, even for a second. His fingers traced the cold letters before he whispered, barely audible.

Raymond: "I found a girl I like... We're getting married soon."

A short laugh escaped him... hollow, laced with something heavy, gnawing at his chest from the inside.

Raymond: "Can you believe that? Me, searching for something that resembles life after all this ruin."

He paused, leaning forward slightly, as if the weight of his own words had become unbearable.

Raymond: "I wish you were here..."

His jaw tightened, as though he was forcing himself not to break. Then, in a hoarse whisper, barely escaping his throat, he muttered:

Raymond: "You would've mocked me, wouldn't you? How could someone like me find happiness in the end?"

A long silence followed, broken only by the cold wind, carrying the dust of the past and scattering it over the grave. Raymond finally lifted his head, his eyes drowning in something that was not tears, but a silent, unspoken agony.

Raymond: "You know... I always told you this would happen. That you'd end up buried in the dirt before you ever realized what you were fighting for."

He kicked a small stone beside him, folding his arms as he gazed into the endless darkness before him.

Raymond: "And now? Did you find what you were looking for there? Or did you leave this world the same way you lived... blindly chasing a dream that never had meaning?"

His fingers traced the engraved letters once more, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm.

Raymond: "At least you have a peace I'll never know. No more fighting. No more wondering if all of this was worth it. Your story is over... But me? I'm still trapped in this hell."

He stared at the grave for a final moment before turning away, his steps firm, as if nothing could stop him. As if pain had never been a part of him.

And amidst the chaos, Raymond moved slowly, his steps heavy but resolute. When Talia called out to him, her voice carried something different... not a command, but a question that reached deep into the soul.

When Raymond stood, his movements were sluggish, as if a great weight bore down upon him. He walked toward his horse, standing near the cliff's edge, where Talia waited in silent anticipation. Her eyes reflected a quiet uncertainty. As he mounted his horse, she spoke in a soft voice, tinged with bitter hesitation.

Talia: "Raymond..."

Her words were not just a question. They were a plea, as if she was asking him to face what he had been trying to ignore.

Talia: "Have you made your decision?"

Raymond hesitated for a brief moment, letting silence reign over him. His eyes were lost in deep thought, as if measuring the vastness of the world before him. Then, as if everything around him had faded away, he spoke.

Raymond: "There's nothing left for me in this kingdom."

He added, his eyes hiding a confusion his words had never admitted before.

Raymond: "The rival I longed to fight every day, the one I wanted to surpass... is gone."

Then, he lifted his gaze toward the distant horizon, where the sun had begun to set, as though time itself had started to lose meaning. His soul had drifted far from this place, tired of sacrifices without purpose. He whispered, his words soft yet filled with uncertainty.

Raymond: "So, I will leave… Maybe I'll find something worth drawing my sword for."

Without another glance, Raymond turned, climbed onto his horse, and vanished. He rode swiftly, as if fleeing from something greater than any decision or doubt within himself. Behind him, he left a dying kingdom... one that had never truly formed. He left behind memories, carried away by the wind, fading like illusions that had only ever existed in the hearts of the weary.

The Lands of Forestell – In the City, Inside a Tavern

The night hung heavy over the distant lands, where shadows did not ask for names, and secrets were buried in the streets before they could be spoken.

Inside a dimly lit tavern, Raymond sat on a wooden chair, leaning against the table before him, gazing at the surface of his glass. The faint glow of the lanterns reflected in the liquid inside, their flickering light casting restless shapes. The air was thick with the scent of ale and the smoke of burning hearths, the hum of conversation filling the space. Yet he listened to none of it.

He seemed to be searching for something... or perhaps running from something.

Then, amidst the usual noise, a strange melody drifted through the air, slicing through the silence like a thread of darkness. Deep voices began to hum slowly, as if summoning a ghost from the past.

"Oh, did you hear the howling call,

When silence claimed the crimson hall?

Did you see the burning light,

That drowned the throne in endless night?"

Raymond lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as if his inner thoughts had halted for a brief moment. He slowly turned toward the other side of the tavern.

There, near the hearth, sat a group of men, their faces half-drowned in shadows, their cups raised as they sang slowly... like they were recounting a curse that time had failed to erase. Their voices carried a blend of longing and sorrow, as if they were speaking of a story they all knew… yet dared not name outright.

The words continued, the other sounds in the tavern fading away, as if the entire place had unconsciously begun to listen. And with each line, something deep inside Raymond trembled.

"The gates did crack, the towers fell,

The walls bore witness, they knew too well.

A phantom walked with death in hand,

And none who stood were left to stand."

Raymond, without realizing it, clenched his cup tightly. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

This wasn't just a song.

It was… a memory.

"Oh, royal blood, so rich, so deep,

Spilled like rivers, left to weep.

The sword was swift, the fire blind,

No crown could fate's cold hand unbind."

The men sang indifferently, but their words were like daggers carving into Raymond's memory.

"He stood before the tyrant's throne,

A king unbowed, yet all alone.

'Come forth, strike hard!' the ruler cried,

But none were left to stand beside.

A single thrust, a fatal breath,

A kingdom drowned beneath its death.

The sovereign fell, his whispers ceased,

His reign unmade, his ghosts released.

Yet where is he... the storm, the shade?

The hunter lost in blood's cascade?

There on the throne, still and pale,

A fleeting ghost, a final tale."

One of the men stood up, raised his glass with a faint smile and said in a voice that almost sounded mocking,

"To the Dance of the Devil!"

The others lifted their glasses, the glasses clinking together, while the echo of the words resonated through the tavern like an ancient incantation.

Raymond rose slowly, his steps heavy as if they carried the echoes of the story they were telling. He approached the waitress who was wiping one of the old tables. She didn't look up when he asked.

He asked her in a low voice, yet weighed down by something deeper than curiosity.

Raymond: "What is this song?"

She didn't look at him, just wiped the table indifferently and responded in a faint voice.

"Didn't you hear about it? ... That night at the royal palace?"

She paused for a moment, then finally looked at him, her gaze carrying something between fear and respect, before she whispered.

"They're singing about it... they called that night..."

'Devil Dance.'

His hand froze for a moment. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing. He simply closed his eyes for a moment, as if the weight of the words was heavier than he let on.

Then he turned, walking towards the door, leaving behind the tavern and the past that never stopped chasing him.

In the background, the voices continued their song, and the shadows on the walls seemed to move with the melody.

"A wind that fades into nothing,

as if the world itself dares not recall...

No crown remains, no kingdom stands,

Only dust upon the shattered lands.

And the palace lingers... cold and black,

As if it never had a past."

Raymond left the tavern, but he didn't leave the melody. He didn't leave the night.

Arcadia continued to rule with an iron grip, torn by the three families whose actions left behind consequences not fully realized yet. Over time, both the common folk and the nobles began to adapt to the new system. The transformation wasn't swift; it was gradual, like a river changing its course in silence. Life began to revolve around new rules, yet there was only silence behind the faces that hid disappointments and pains that could not be spoken of.

However, even with the beginning of this reign, cracks appeared in the foundations of this new kingdom. Fear wound itself around hearts, and doubts crept into minds. Everything had changed, but what had changed wasn't just the system... it was the very soul. Deep within them all, there was a feeling that something had been lost forever, and that the consequences that had been covered up would continue to haunt them in the shadows surrounding their new kingdom.

Then came the year 1961, bringing with it an unexpected revolution in the course of humanity. A meteor streaked across the sky in brilliant lights, like a beam of light passing through the universe, followed by a thunderous roar that shook the horizon. The sky itself revealed strange colors that the Earth had never seen before, a magical scene no one could have predicted.

When the meteor fell in the Kingdom of Arcadia, a huge explosion of light occurred, as if a radiant wave swept the Earth, covering an area of 8.9 million square kilometers, spreading with full force. This light wasn't just a glow; it was as though it was a signal from the heavens themselves, launched by nature, the universe, or perhaps a blind fate no one could explain. The wave was swift and adorned with amazing colors, like a mirror reflecting the infinite vastness of the universe, shimmering and pulsing with life. Despite its tremendous intensity, it caused no harm to the environment or the land. It was like a massive barrier of light, filtering through the air and engulfing it in eerie silence.

But what was most extraordinary was the effect this wave had on the children born in that pivotal moment. This wasn't just a natural event; it was a turning point in history itself. The light seemed to penetrate them, adding something invisible, something from fate itself. These children, born with the end of that glow, began to show incomprehensible powers. They had no explanation for what had happened to them, but they carried within them extraordinary abilities that set them apart from all other humans.

After the light disappeared, these children became extraordinary beings unlike any other, yet at the same time, they became a deep mystery. The world around them began to try to decode this strange phenomenon. Who were these children? How did they gain these powers? What had happened to the world after witnessing this event?

As society pondered in silence, fear and hesitation began to emerge, as if the change was too great for them to fully comprehend. These children were dubbed "Sons of Light." This name referred to the mysterious blessing they carried, but at the same time, it stirred fear, as if it was a sign of something beyond explanation.

Scientists, politicians, and even ordinary people became preoccupied with interpreting this phenomenon. It was no longer just curiosity; it became a struggle for control over this massive shift in the nature of humanity. As for the children, they were merely prey to suspicion and fear, surrounded by wary gazes, as they learned to live with abilities they never asked for.

As time passed, these children became not just subjects of scientific research, but symbols of a new era. An era in which the boundaries of the familiar were shattered, and new doors to mystery and knowledge were opened. The history of humanity had entered a new phase, one filled with questions that would not find answers anytime soon, yet would continue to haunt everyone.