This was the story of this battle told like a fabulous tale. Then life was to resume its unchanging march and flow like rain from the magical mountains of Vaegos. Good or bad, the inexorable evolution took place, and the legend that made the magical nations tremble became a myth. And as Goemantis wished, the eternal mist preserved his broken kingdom and his life's work.
But what no one expected was that mages with the same dark souls and wrong view of things were allowed to enter this closed place of the world. And so, although the simple folk were perpetually afraid of Stanys and its great city of mists, the black magicians inspired by their defeated pioneer began to visit the legendary realm. And so, year after year, they continued to invade it for various reasons, some to seek refuge, some to exercise their magic and atrocious authority, and some simply to conduct research to strengthen the power of darkness.
But later, as the city slowly gained power and notoriety, part of the cursed place was transformed into a refuge for children that was named Athok and was given that title in name only, a monumental and atrocious fortress ruled by a dark mage whose greatest and main passion was to destroy children. A mage named Sirkol, banished from the world of magic for his unforgivable acts.
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CHAPTER 1
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It was night. The full moon, a round and immortal star, reigned in a sky filled with sparkles, revealing an unchanging beauty, and yet seen from these inaccessible heights, strangely sinister. The compact mist took on a terrifying and mysterious aspect under the light of the moon, and the nocturnal creatures invaded the dark and forbidden realm, howling with terror, roaring in the vast and deep forest, covering almost the entire territory of Stanys, the so-called forbidden mountain. Their eyes glowed in the darkness, and they all fought with terrifying savagery for their survival. An imposing edifice, located in the middle of these fearsome lands, perfectly hidden from the invisible black peaks, was illuminated by stellar reflections and countless menacing artificial lighting.
In the heavy and dark sky, a whole cloud of flying creatures appeared, hunting in groups and savagely sharing each captured prey. One of them suddenly broke away from the reaper gang, and with suspicious eagerness, swooped down on a large animal with bulging eyes and a gray stained body, and caught it easily. When the beast, with its prey clutched in its cruel claws, joined its companions, they fought over the animal and reduced it miserably to pieces. But after swallowing its fatty flesh with relish, another beast, of colossal size, appeared just behind them and caught almost the whole swarm in its voracious maw before landing heavily on the ground, and chewing its catch with visible satisfaction, drooling over a few scraps of flesh and bone. Its sharp teeth glistened in the night. Then, licking its lips pleasantly, the beast quietly joined its other companions, who also showed the image of having been fully satisfied with their hunt. The bloodthirsty beasts moved in the darkness, their only realm, faithfully guarding the squalid refuge founded by an ancient magician who loved cursed stories.
But the domain was now ruled by a new and equally feared black magician, who that night was looking forward to a deadly and dastardly game of his own.
Great shifting shadows crossed the surrounding courtyards, devouring every creature they encountered in their path, and spilling their blood everywhere. They scaled the thick walls of the building to rush through the lighted French windows and into them. The visible lights that pierced the darkness were extinguished as they passed. Shadows ran down long, wide corridors lit by magic lamps and crystal chandeliers, all breaking in the wake of the waves of shadows. They approached an imposing door engraved with powerful, indecipherable spells in shifting black letters. The dark mass stopped for a fraction of a second before opening it and invading the entire room.
Two guardians - an old mage and a very young one - emerged from the thick pond of shadows before bowing to a man sitting in a stately chair, wearing a long gray tunic embroidered with silver threads. Ironically, the wizard's servants themselves wore beautiful ash-white uniforms with silver metallic outlines that also carried spells as fearsome as they were dark. The old servant, whose name was Köel, had long, straight white hair and various markings on his giant body. What set him apart from the others was his eyes, one of which was closed with a powerful spell to protect it and keep it in good condition, for it was said that it was able to see everything that was totally invisible and unknown to others. The younger, who bore his name well - Johes, which in the ancient language meant the offspring of slaves, had short, curly, dark brown hair and a thin face, openly sadistic, most unstable character and hated the light. He was an awful beast who would stop at nothing to contemplate the deep suffering of the people.
Sirkol looked at him with irony and amusement, having felt his blatant enjoyment of devouring nocturnal beasts and all sparks of light during his insane crossings.
"We are here, master," the wily Köel announced respectfully.
Sirkol nonchalantly turned his wine glass, gazing at the red liquid illuminated by the dim starlight with a kind of perverse fascination, before drinking it with his eyes closed.
"Master?" the old wizard insisted, without getting an answer.
Finally, the director decided to answer.
"I heard Köel."
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