The History

The warm glow of candles flickered across the table as the group sat in a heavy silence, each lost in their thoughts. The hours had passed quickly since their earlier confrontation, and now it was time for dinner. Medas, Morvane, Crimson, and Drevon sat together, the tension still lingering in the air.

Drevon was the first to break the silence, leisurely sipping his tea as the others ate. Crimson, sitting at the opposite end of the table, finally spoke up. "I still don't understand this... Can you explain it a little more?"

Drevon sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Ugh, more explanation again? You Baltalahans should be thankful that I'm Morvane's demon. If any other demon were in my place, their temper would've killed you all by now with all these questions. But since I like storytelling, I'll indulge you." He set his cup down and leaned forward, his voice becoming more serious.

"Alright, listen up. This is history, and not the easy kind. Thousands and thousands of years ago, Baltalahans were powerless. They had no abilities. There weren't even kingdoms or rulers. It was chaos, basically. But then… the system was created. One of the gods of heaven decided to grant a wish to a Baltalahan, and that Baltalahan became the first ever marked one. I'm not sure what power he had, but there's a rumor that it was immortality. Not sure if that's true, though, since I lived in the realm, not on the surface. But that's how it all started."

He paused, taking a breath, before continuing. "Years passed, and more Baltalahans started preaching to the gods. There were twelve gods in total, and I'm sure you all know their names. These gods live in heaven, or the upper realm, as you call it. Eventually, they all agreed that when a Baltalahan turned fifteen, they would receive power. Just like that. Simple, right?"

Drevon's eyes darkened as he leaned back slightly in his chair. "But our clan, the demons in the lower realm, saw this as a threat. So my ancestors approached the gods with a proposal. If a Baltalahan were ever to receive power from us… it would only happen if they preached demons. The gods mocked us for even suggesting it."

He let out a small chuckle, as if remembering the mockery. "No one would preach demons, right? I think one of my ancestors got fed up. So, he granted power to a markless—a man who had no power at all. He was the first ever markless one. The gods, of course, ignored him. They didn't see him as anything significant. But this is how the markless came to be."

Morvane listened intently, his eyes narrowed in thought. "So, you're saying the gods didn't want the markless to exist?"

Drevon grinned darkly. "Exactly. They never expected it. They thought the markless were nothing. But they were wrong."

Crimson, still trying to piece everything together, leaned forward, his expression hardening. "So what's next? What's the significance of all this? What does it mean for us now?"

Drevon smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, the next chapter. Here it goes." He took a slow sip of his tea before continuing.

"So, the first markless one lived, and he had power beyond anything the gods could foresee. But, unlike the upper realm, where the gods could easily observe the Baltalahan world, us demons in the lower realm couldn't. So, we created shadow beasts—creatures that act as our eyes in Baltalaha, but also as guides for the markless. They became a crucial part of our connection with those chosen. For decades and centuries, only a few Baltalahans were marked as 'markless,' granted their power by demons."

Drevon paused for dramatic effect. "And since one demon equals one markless, it's believed that the power they wield is far more potent than that of the marked ones. The gods never saw that coming, did they?"

He looked directly at Morvane, his grin widening. "So, Morvane, my boy, get ready to be the most powerful person in Baltalaha. Hahaha!" Drevon chuckled darkly, clearly amused by his own words.

Crimson remained silent, his brow furrowing as he processed the information. Medas, too, was deep in thought, trying to understand the weight of what Drevon was revealing.

Drevon leaned back, his tone becoming a little more serious. "Okay, here's the twist. When the gods of heaven realized what was happening—when they found out we were giving power to the markless—they weren't pleased. But instead of doing anything directly... they did something more insidious. They started to weave their influence, creating the system of 'marks' in the first place, to prevent the markless from gaining too much power. They made sure that the marked ones were protected, that their powers were amplified. And that's when they decided to put in place a rule: that demons could no longer freely grant powers to any Baltalahan."

Drevon's voice grew more intense as he continued. "But here's the real kicker—the gods underestimated the markless and their connection to us demons. They thought they had everything under control. They thought they'd just have their marked ones be the dominant force. But as you can see, even with all their rules, they can't control everything. That's where you come in, Morvane. You're proof that things have shifted. And you're going to be a force that shakes the foundations of Baltalaha."

Morvane clenched his fists, feeling the weight of what he was hearing. "So, it's all just a power struggle between the gods and demons, huh?"

Drevon's eyes gleamed. "Exactly. But now that you're in the picture, you're about to change that game."

Medas, his voice laced with concern, cut in, "What about Hiraya? She was one of the markless too, in this century. She's connected to all of this, right?"

Drevon's expression shifted slightly, his gaze growing distant for a moment. "Hiraya? Oh, she died early, didn't she?" He sighed deeply, the weight of his words clear. "That's because her shadow beast wasn't enough to guide her. You see, in the history of the markless, there's never been a time where two or more markless lived at the same time. It's never happened before. My guess? The gods made that rule, to ensure that the balance wouldn't be disrupted."

He looked at Medas, a strange sadness in his eyes. "The gods fear too many markless existing together. They know how powerful the markless can be when they have the guidance of their demon. They've kept it from happening for millennia."

Just as Drevon finished speaking, a sudden chill filled the room. Morvane froze, a shiver running down his spine as the air seemed to grow heavier. In an instant, a faint, ethereal glow appeared in the corner of the room. Morvane's eyes widened as he saw her—Hiraya's spirit materialized before them.

Her form was translucent, barely more than a wisp of light, but it was unmistakably her. She was standing there, her eyes locked on Morvane, her expression serene but distant.

Morvane's breath caught in his throat. "Hiraya...?"

Drevon raised an eyebrow, his usual grin faltering as he observed the appearance of the spirit. "Well, well... looks like she's here. But how? I thought... she was gone for good."

Hiraya's spirit moved slowly towards Morvane, her presence radiating an odd calmness. Morvane reached out instinctively, his hand trembling as he saw the spirit of his friend in front of him.

The others—Medas, Crimson, and even Drevon—watched silently, unsure of what to make of the appearance.

Hiraya's ghostly figure seemed to acknowledge them all, but her attention remained fixed on Morvane. Her voice was faint, like a whisper carried on the wind. "Morvane... you... you must know what is coming. The balance... is shifting. You are not alone. You will never be alone, even if they try to silence you."

Morvane stared at her, his heart racing. "What are you trying to tell me, Hiraya?"

Her spirit flickered for a moment, and Drevon's voice cut in sharply. "This is unusual... for a spirit to come back like this. What is she trying to warn you about, Morvane?"

Before anyone could respond, Hiraya's voice echoed one final time. "Trust... in the power that binds you. But beware the gods... they will come for you."

And then, as suddenly as she had appeared, Hiraya's spirit began to fade, leaving the room in an eerie silence.

Morvane stood frozen, staring at the spot where her spirit had been, a thousand questions swirling in his mind. The weight of her words pressed heavily on his chest, and he realized that this was just the beginning of a much larger, more dangerous path ahead.

Hiraya's ghost turned her gaze towards Drevon, her transparent form flickering with emotion. "So, you are his demon," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "I see now. You're the one who guides him."

Drevon gave a casual shrug, clearly unfazed. "Oh, so you know? Well, I'm not surprised. But, I guess you had your own demon, too, didn't you? Did you meet him?"

Hiraya's eyes darkened, and she hesitated before answering. "No," she whispered. "I denied him. I gave up my power because I loved someone. But... when I consumed a power that sees prophecy, I had no choice but to continue with spirit binding."

Drevon nodded in understanding, a trace of amusement in his voice. "Oh, tragic. I'm guessing this man of your heart is... this one?" He pointed toward Medas, his expression almost mocking.

Medas and Crimson remained completely unaware of the conversation, as they couldn't see or hear Hiraya's spirit. They exchanged confused glances, sensing the tension but not understanding what was happening.

Hiraya's spirit gazed longingly at Medas for a moment, then turned back to Drevon. "Yes. He was the one I loved. But I... I failed him. And now... I'm bound to this place."

Drevon sighed dramatically, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, tragic indeed. But now, why are you still here, haunting this realm? What is it that you want?"

Hiraya's voice grew more urgent, tinged with sorrow. "I was murdered. And I need to know who did it. Whoever killed me might come for Medas, too. I can't rest until I know."

Drevon raised an eyebrow, then smiled, an idea clearly forming in his mind. "Oh, that's easy enough. Let me just touch your forehead, and I'll know who your killer is."

Before anyone could react, Drevon stepped forward, his hand reaching toward Hiraya's ethereal form. He touched her forehead lightly, his fingers glowing with an eerie energy. His eyes narrowed as he peered into her past, reading the hidden memories.

A moment of silence passed, and Drevon's eyes widened with unexpected amusement. "Oh damn... hahahah, this is interesting," he said, chuckling to himself.

Morvane's heart skipped a beat. "So... did you see it? Did you see who killed her?"

Drevon's expression shifted, his smile fading into something unreadable. He didn't answer immediately, his eyes flickering with something dark. "...I saw it," he said slowly, his voice heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Morvane's pulse quickened as he waited for Drevon's answer, but Drevon remained silent, his thoughts seemingly locked behind a veil. It was clear that whatever he had seen, it was more than just a revelation—it was something that disturbed him.

The room grew thick with tension as the air felt colder. Morvane's gaze locked on Drevon, hoping for the truth, but Drevon only smiled, his demeanor more cryptic than ever.

"I'll tell you later," he said finally, his tone shifting. "But for now, let's just say that not everything is as it seems."

Morvane's frustration boiled over, but he knew pushing Drevon too hard wouldn't get him any answers. Not yet, anyway. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he glanced at Medas and Crimson, who were still unaware of the conversation that had just unfolded in the silence of the room.

"Let's just... keep moving forward," Morvane muttered, though his mind was racing with the unknown.