How It All Started

Warning: This chapter contains violence and unhealthy thoughts of self-harming that might be triggering for certain readers. Please read at your own discretion.

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Chaos.

There was no other way to describe it.

As the clash of steel echoed through the chaos, the fires continued their relentless dance, consuming flesh and hope alike. Amidst the carnage, a solitary figure emerged, undeterred by the torrents of blood and the screams of the dying. Their once pristine white robes are now painted with the crimson testament of countless lives lost, a stark reminder of the merciless battlefield they traversed.

In this hellscape of smoke and blood, the air hung heavy with the acrid scent of war, suffocating those unaccustomed to its embrace. Yet, amidst the madness, the struggle persisted. Men fought not for glory, but for survival, their blades a desperate plea against the encroaching darkness. Friend and foe alike fell beneath their desperate strikes, casualties of a conflict devoid of honor, fueled only by the primal instinct to endure.

Amidst this maelstrom of violence, the lone figure moved with purpose, their steps a testament to courage born from necessity. Yet, unbeknownst to them, they were not alone. A silent guardian, clad in armor stained with the same blood that marred the healer's robes, followed in their wake. Ignoring the frantic shouts of comrades, the knight remained steadfast in their resolve, a silent sentinel against the tide of chaos.

Upon striking down the seventh assailant, the knight grabbed onto the trembling arm of the figure, their voice cutting through the chaos, "Pull yourself together, Alina!" they urged, desperation lacing their words.

As the figure turned, revealing a young girl amidst the carnage, the juxtaposition of innocence and savagery struck a discordant chord in the knight's heart. She seemed out of place, a fragile flower in a field of thorns.

Despite her tear-stained face and quivering frame, the girl met the knight's gaze with a defiant glare, her resolve unyielding beneath the weight of the world bearing down upon her fragile shoulders.

"Why are you stopping me?" Her voice, though soft, carried an underlying strength that belied her appearance, a testament to the fire that burned within her soul.

"Alina… There's nothing you can do…"

"I… I know, but I can't just sit in comfort and safety while the knights and other healers are fighting for their lives."

"Alina, look around. There are no healers here. They've fled to safety."

"What? No, that can't be. I didn't see-"

"It doesn't matter. You need to go now," the knight insisted, their voice tinged with urgency and a hint of sorrow.

"But I want to help," Alina protested, her voice softer now, laced with determination and a touch of vulnerability.

"Alina... your courage is admirable, but this battle is beyond us. I need you to save yourself while there's still a chance," the knight implored, their words cut short by the sudden onslaught of the enemy's ferocious assault.

Despite the knight's valiant efforts to protect her, a cruel twist of fate left him vulnerable to a surprise attack from an unexpected quarter. Alina could only watch in horror as the knight faltered under the onslaught of two adversaries, a grim realization dawning upon her like a thunderbolt.

"This can't be happening. I just... This is all my fault. How could I be so stupid?" Alina's self-recrimination echoed in the chaos, tears streaming down her cheeks like silent rivers of anguish.

Surveying the battlefield, Alina's heart sank as she witnessed the overwhelming force of the enemy bearing down upon her comrades, the clash of steel, and the cries of the fallen drowning out all other sounds.

"No matter how selfish and obnoxious they were, no one deserves such a fate," Alina's thoughts echoed with a somber resonance as she watched the carnage unfold before her, her hands trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.

"All I did was get blood on my hands... but this isn't even my-" Alina's realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, her eyes widening in horrified understanding.

"...blood."

In an instant, Alina dashed towards a fallen knight lying just a stone's throw away, her fingers closing around the hilt of his discarded sword. With a heavy heart, she raised the weapon high, her resolve warring with the weight of the task ahead.

"No, Alina! Don't do it!" The knight's desperate plea cut through the chaos, a voice of reason amidst the madness of battle.

"But I must try," Alina's voice wavered with uncertainty, her brave facade faltering beneath the weight of her doubts.

"I'm scared... it may not work... but I cannot just stand idly by while everyone is being slaughtered," Alina's breath caught in her throat as she summoned every ounce of courage within her, her lips pressed into a determined line.

Closing her eyes, Alina lifted the sword once more, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat of defiance against the darkness.

"Alina! Noooooo!"

"Please... please, let this work," Alina whispered softly, her plea carried away on the winds of war as she plunged the sword downwards with all her strength, praying for deliverance amidst the chaos.

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[May 1824, about six years ago…]

It was cold and miserable.

In the midst of the kingdom's heaviest downpour in memory, Silvern Crest shivered under the relentless assault of rain. The day turned to night under the unyielding deluge, only relenting as the wee hours approached. Yet, even as the rain abated, a distant rumble of thunder echoed through the darkened skies, and the sunrise remained veiled behind a thick blanket of clouds.

Amidst the desolate streets, two figures emerged, a curious anomaly amidst the gloom. Clad in opulent attire, these young men seemed out of place in the impoverished district they now traversed. Their pristine white robes, untouched by the filth of the world around them, stood as a stark contrast against the grimy backdrop of the unlit street.

Despite their conspicuous presence, none dared approach the enigmatic duo. In a labyrinth alleyway teeming with danger, the sight of those adorned in the sacred garb of power inspired a cautious reverence. Everyone knew that those who wore such robes wielded authority beyond measure, and their unexpected appearance on these streets hinted at a purpose both mysterious and foreboding.

SPLASH

"Ugh… It's so disgusting. My shoes and the bottom of my robes are soaked in this rancid water. I'm sure that there are many carcasses, feces, and trash floating around because of this damn weather!" the lanky man of the two complained as his face twisted in disgust.

"Hah… Such gloomy weather for such a holy event. This does not bode well," the bigger-sized man said solemnly.

"Holy? Hah! You sound like the Pope!"

"I shall take that as a compliment," the bigger-sized man replied with a chuckle and the lanky man clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"That was not a compliment. Sometimes, you are so… Hah… Anyway, we've been searching for hours. Are you sure that this is the place?"

"Yes, that's what the sorceress told me."

"This wild goose chase better be worthwhile. We don't have much time before the baptism ceremony begins," the lanky man huffed in frustration.

"Well, if you really need to be the goody-two-shoes you pretend to be, you can leave right now. That 'goose' may actually be hiding from us since it supposedly has some level of divinity or mana– whatever the sorceress thought it was."

"You're a hypocrite, aren't you doing the same thing? You and I are both in the same boat. Besides, if what you said is true, then there is no way to locate it, right?"

"No, there is a way," the lanky man said as he lifted his right hand to show the ring he wore, "This clear stone will turn blood-red when we're near it."

"Oh… That's good, but if it is really here, why isn't the ring changing color?"

"Probably because it is capable of hiding its powers or…"

"Yes? Or what?"

"Or it is not time yet."

DING DONG

DING DONG

DING DONG

The sharp toll of the bell echoed through the somber air, commanding attention from all who heard it. Both men lifted their heads, their eyes drawn to the darkened sky, seeking the origin of the chime.

"We are going to be late now."

"Yeah, let's go. We can always search again later."

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Initiation Day. The very phrase stirred excitement among the downtrodden of the community, a beacon of hope amidst their daily struggles. For the poor and orphaned, it was a day of significance beyond measure, heralding the church's solemn ritual of mass baptism. Though the offerings were humble, the promise of free clothes and sustenance drew a crowd, transforming the event into a grandiose affair for those accustomed to scarcity.

Yet, it was more than earthly provisions that lured them to the sacred grounds of the church. Whispers of the High Priest's blessing, spoken in hushed tones, hinted at a divine protection against the unseen forces of darkness. His Holiness' mana, a sacred energy said to emanate from his very being, was sought after like a lifeline in a world fraught with peril. Thus, adults and children alike flocked to the church, eager for a chance to stand in the presence of the revered High Priest, their hearts buoyed by the promise of spiritual renewal and protection.

"Phew. The turnout seems even greater this year. Do you suppose the service will conclude before sunset?" a young cardinal remarked, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as the High Priest performed the sacred ritual of baptism, immersing one child after another into the makeshift tub of holy water.

"Only the Lord will know. Regardless of the crowd, it is necessary to wait for the child to arrive."

"But Your Holiness, we don't even know what the child looks like."

"Patience, Terrence. We will know when we see h–" 

BANG 

The deafening sound of the church doors slamming open reverberated through the once bustling hall, shattering the tranquil atmosphere in an instant.

A woman's piercing scream shattered the eerie silence that followed, echoing off the stone walls as all eyes turned toward the entrance.

Amidst the hushed gasps of the congregation, a figure emerged from the darkness outside, a stark contrast to the serenity within. A girl, clad in tattered rags and smeared with grime and blood, stood silhouetted against the fading light of day, her presence a jarring disruption to the sanctity of the church.