A legend told that far, far away, on the edge of the magical realms, there was a city, a great black city built on a mountain famous for its curse.
Only the black mages and all those who were deeply linked to the darkness were allowed to enter this place of the night, feared by all. It was there, far from the light, that a young boy named Miron was imprisoned. He lived within the walls of a huge building, among other children, under the domination of a banished black mage, who tried to subdue him because of his rebellious and untamable nature. Miron did not know how to break free from this terrible prison. But opportunity knocked in the year he turned thirteen when he discovered a power his dark tormentors wished he had never known.

The Prince Of Mages

Vradiome could hear the terrible howl of his former boss and his ranting like a beastly growl when he realized he was too late. 


"Find me that little scoundrel. And I warn you, it's him or you!" 


Vradiome was also sincerely grateful to magic for allowing him to move as he wished and carry whatever he wanted without it weighing him down. 


Everything he was able to take was in a satchel attached to his body by a spell. So, the moment his feet touched the ground again, the young runaway ran to his usual, if not only, swapper, and this time he gave him the pants, which because of the unique spells imbued in them cost three times as much as his coat. 


"Take what you need in exchange for spells that can resist Lord Sherog." 


This time, these unexpected words succeeded in shaking the scoffing and always phlegmatic swapper and made him fall even drop the precious pants he held in his hands. 


Also