"The light chooses the pure, but the shadows wait for the broken."
The wind carried silence that morning.
Not the gentle hush of peace, but the suffocating stillness of a world holding its breath. In the depths of the ancient Elarian Woods, the leaves whispered secrets between themselves, rustling as though afraid to speak too loudly. Somewhere, a crow cried once and fell silent, as if even nature itself sensed that something sacred—something monstrous—was about to happen.
And in the heart of that stillness, two men stood.
One heart burned with purpose.
The other, with envy.
Ardyn Solarin stood at the edge of the sacred glade, his boots half-sunken in the mossy earth, his eyes locked on the relic that floated between them. The golden glow emanating from the object shimmered with a heartbeat of its own, as though alive.
The Lumen Core.
It hovered above a bed of wildflowers that had long withered, pulsing with light that spilled into the clearing and painted the trees with gold. A crystalline sphere with radiant arcs curling inside it like miniature suns, the Core sang in a voice that could not be heard—only felt.
It had chosen Ardyn.
He didn't know how he knew, but he did. The moment he stepped into the glade, the warmth of it wrapped around him, crawling into his bones, whispering truths only the pure could hear.
Behind him, footsteps approached.
Lord Malvorn Kaelith.
Warrior. Nobleman. Ardyn's oldest companion.
And the man who would kill him.
"It chose you," Malvorn said, his voice even, but Ardyn heard the storm behind it.
He didn't turn. He couldn't. The Core seemed to hold him in place.
"I didn't ask for this," Ardyn replied. His voice trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the gravity of it all. "I came here to hunt."
Malvorn laughed, sharp and humorless. "Hunt? That what you'll call it? The gods descend and choose a hunter with mud on his boots? While I... while I, who studied the scrolls, bled in their wars, chanted the ancient verses under moon and sun—I am passed over?"
"Maybe that's why."
Ardyn finally turned.
Malvorn's eyes were already red.
Not metaphorically. Truly red. Veins bulged in his forehead. Dark energy pulsed through him in small, almost imperceptible cracks along his pale skin. For years, he had dabbled in the darker arts—just whispers at first. Forbidden readings. Occult tattoos hidden beneath armor. But Ardyn knew. And now, the truth showed itself, like a serpent shedding its skin.
The Lumen Core pulsed again. It reacted to the hatred in Malvorn's heart like a fire flickering in the wind.
"You know what I seek, Ardyn."
"You want power."
"And is that so wrong? The world is broken! With the Core, we could heal it. Forge empires. Silence rebellion. Burn away corruption."
"You mean control."
Malvorn's eyes narrowed.
"You're not worthy," he said coldly.
His sword slid from its sheath with a hiss.
"But you—you will be remembered as the man who found it. And died for it."
And with that, he attacked.
The clearing erupted into movement.
Steel sang. Ardyn raised his blade just in time, the force of Malvorn's strike sending him stumbling backward. The trees shivered. Sparks flew as metal crashed against metal again and again. Ardyn blocked high, ducked low, kicked at Malvorn's knee and nearly caught him.
But Malvorn was faster.
Fueled by obsession.
Fueled by darkness.
"You never wanted greatness!" Malvorn roared, slamming a heavy blow into Ardyn's shoulder. "You never reached for anything above your station! You married a village girl! You raised a son in a cottage! You buried your sword when the war ended!"
"Because I knew peace!" Ardyn shouted back. "You knew only ambition!"
They locked blades, eye to eye.
"You were like a brother to me," Ardyn whispered.
Malvorn smiled. A cold, lifeless thing.
"Then die like family."
He twisted.
A blade plunged through Ardyn's side.
Time slowed.
Blood sprayed across the glade. The Lumen Core pulsed wildly, like a heart seizing in terror. Ardyn stumbled forward, hands reaching for something he couldn't hold. Malvorn stepped back as if burned, his blade trembling.
Then—
Light exploded.
A shockwave surged from the Core. Malvorn screamed as it struck him, flinging him into the trees. The surrounding woods erupted into flame. Birds scattered. Roots split. The earth cracked. The Core shrieked—not with sound, but with fury.
And then it vanished.
Gone in a blink.
The glade fell silent.
Malvorn pulled himself up, blood trailing from his temple. He looked around, dazed, eyes flicking to Ardyn's body.
"No..."
He limped forward, staring at the lifeless man. He didn't look like a hero now. Just a father. Just a man.
And the Core was gone.
He had killed Ardyn for nothing.
Or so he thought.
His eyes scanned the edges of the trees. Something rustled. A presence. A tiny gasp.
A child.
Malvorn narrowed his eyes.
Could it be? No—Ardyn never said he had a son.
But he did.
And Malvorn would not leave loose ends.
TEN YEARS LATER...
A remote monastery carved into the cliffside of Mount Rythen.
The sun had just begun its rise, casting orange beams over the courtyard. Atop the flat stone surface, two figures moved in perfect synchronicity. Bare feet whispered across stone. Arms sliced the air with practiced grace.
"Again!" barked Master Jino Miras, his voice like a steel blade drawn slow. His grey beard danced as he paced.
Across from him stood Kael Solarin.
Seventeen. Focused. Shirtless, scarred from training, but with a light in his eyes that defied his years. His fists were clenched. Muscles coiled. Sweat beaded across his brow.
He struck.
And the stone beneath him cracked.
Jino narrowed his eyes.
Kael dropped his stance, breathing hard. "Did I do it wrong again?"
"No," Jino said slowly. "You did it too right."
Kael frowned. He looked down at the cracks in the stone floor.
"You don't even know your strength yet," Jino muttered. "Your body isn't ordinary. The sun fuels you. By day, you are fire. But by night..."
Kael flinched.
"Last night, I... I hurt the deer again. I didn't mean to. It got close. I lost control. I heard something speaking in me. It wasn't my voice. It—it wanted to kill."
Jino placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It is the other side of your light. Until you master it, the darkness will hunt you."
Kael looked toward the east.
"You said the world once burned. That I was the reason it still breathes. What did you mean, Master?"
The old man turned his gaze to the sky.
"Because your father was chosen."
Kael's breath caught.
"And because you, Kael, are the heir."
Far off, unseen by either of them, black banners once again began to rise on the horizon.
The hunt for the Lumen Core had begun anew.
And Lord Malvorn Kaelith—unchanged by age, corrupted by dark power—had learned the truth:
Ardyn Solarin had a son.
And the Core had chosen again.