AILDRIN, SON OF ADIL

"This is it?" Aildrin said. He looked around the room and found nothing out of the ordinary. "I got the part that it's somehow empty, but where's the throne? And where's that thief? SleepNot! She's inhuman!"

Silas' eyes crinkled at the corners. "Judging by the blood at the entrance and stairs, you must have taught her quite a lesson," he said. He then returned to his barrel and refilled his flagon.

"Me?" Aildrin glanced outside the room and found SleepNot's lifeless body on the stairs. He then stared at his hands and found blood in them. The pain in his head returned.

"Kain corrupted your soul, young man. It's a good thing you lost that sword. How did it find its way to your hand?"

Aildrin reached for his waist and realized that his belt was missing and he was wearing a fresh set of clothes. A jet-black one-piece leather suit with furry white outlines covered him.

"Who's this Kain? And the flamberge...it just felt familiar that time, and it was the loudest of all the weapons."

Silas paused for a few seconds, staring at Aildrin before speaking. "A thousand years ago, this very place is where Alistor sat."

"Alistor?" Aildrin said. "What do you mean?"

"Yes. King Alistor. He was the last one to sit on the throne until he vanished."

"Why? What happened?"

Silas sighed. "It's gonna be a long story, young man. This barrel won't be enough to keep us company. But I can take you there."

Aildrin squinted when a bright light flooded his screen. He then found himself inside a fiery cavern where a human and a demon stood against each other. Both of them wielded a flamberge, one blazed in crimson while the other blazed in silver.

"Kain, you've betrayed the throne and our continent! I've come to reclaim it," the human said.

"Dad?" Aildrin said. The human looked like his father, but upon closer look, the nose line and eyes were different.

The demon grinned, showing sharp fangs. A crimson aura blazed around him. "Alistor, you understand nothing, and for that, you shall perish."

Alistor smiled. Behind him, eight figures in cloaks riding atop different beasts came out of the dark tunnel. "I alone am enough to stop you. But they insisted on coming."

Kain's confidence faltered, but he charged at their group.

The scene then changed, and Aildrin found himself inside a throne room. Soldiers clad in white surrounded the oversized, bejeweled chair, and on it, Alistor sat with a crown embedded with ten stones.

"Hail, the new King of Fitz! Hail, Alistor!" a man in a white robe said. It was Silas, standing at the right side of the King with a golden staff in his hand.

Humans, Dwarves, Elves, Orcs, Divines, Undeads, Goblins, Savages, Murlocs, and Demons stood in unity at the vast hall, and said: "Hail the new King!"

The scene changed once again. It was Kain marching through the desert land. Black clouds and many giant figures veiled in shadow gathered behind him.

Ahead of them, Alistor led an army of different races. A loud trumpet resounded, and the clash between the two forces started.

And then Aildrin found himself back in the room. He gasped while sweat trickled down his forehead.

"You're...the right hand of the King," Aildrin said, "and the ten races were once united..."

Silas grimly nodded. "The crown of the Wargod passes an agreed cycle. It should only be passed to the next race once the holder is dead. But Kain, that damnable Fire Demon! When the alliance crowned him as King, he betrayed the continent. He sold us to our sworn enemy, the Maliz! Ancient beasts born from the abyss, they're the progenitors of the demon race."

"So Kain died, and Alistor replaced him? But what about the war, what happened?"

"That's the root of all problems because Kain never died. At the Battle in Bayon, Alistor and the leaders of the other races took the crown from him. It angered the gods because they broke their oath. So, when the war began, the Ethereals descended from the heavens and stopped the impending doom. They sent the Maliz out of the Fitz back to the abyss, and they punished Alistor."

"What? But he only did what must be done."

"Alistor knew the risk. I have warned him, but he sacrificed himself for the good of many," Silas said. He then took a gulp and emptied his flagon. "The gods banished him along with the throne. As to where they were sent, no one knows until now. Blame played the game, and the alliance was divided into two. And we got busy slaughtering each other for almost a thousand years while the Ancients are gathering power and more forces, just waiting for the barrier to weaken in the next crimson moon."

"But I thought..." Aildrin ran out of words.

"Do not lose heart, young man," Silas said. A red note appeared out of nowhere in his hand. "I've been waiting for you, Aildrin, Son of Adil, Descendant of Alistor."