A thousand years ago…
Legends speak of a mortal who walked among gods, not as a worshipper — but as a threat.
He had no divine birthright.No blessings.No prophecy.
And yet... he stood atop corpses of both angels and demons alike. Neither heaven nor hell could contain him. When his final battle shook the skies and his mortal body fell — gods descended. So did devils. Both desiring his soul.
Their battle lasted for days.The stars wept.The realms trembled.And then… the soul vanished.
No one won. No one ever would.
1000 years later – Village of Elderwyn
The sun rose gently over a peaceful village nestled between soft hills and singing rivers. A place where time moved slow and lives were simple.
In a small wooden cottage on the edge of the fields, a newborn let out his first cry.
"A boy!" Mira whispered, tears of joy in her eyes.
Garrick, his rough hands still muddy from the fields, knelt beside his wife, eyes wide with emotion. "He's… perfect."
They named him Erik.
He was born with no strange mark. No glowing eyes. Just a normal, healthy child.
But deep inside him… something ancient opened its eyes.
"So… this is the vessel chosen by fate?"
The voice echoed in Erik's soul, ageless and powerful, yet calm.
"Strange… I expected a battlefield. Not the scent of hay and milk."
The soul drifted in silence, not controlling, not dominating — only observing.
"You're fragile now, little one… but I will not possess you. I will walk beside you. Until you're ready."
Years passed quietly.
Erik grew like any normal child — chasing chickens, playing in the mud, and laughing with his parents. His mother Mira taught him how to read letters carved into old bark scrolls. His father Garrick taught him how to plant, plow, and live humbly.
At age 2, Erik became a big brother.Little Lia was born — a bundle of giggles and mischief.
He protected her from bugs, bullies, and even her own clumsiness. Their bond became unbreakable — pure and beautiful.
But the soul watched… and waited.
"He is kind. Curious. Soft-hearted. Not what I expected… but perhaps… that is what this world needs."
One evening, as the sun dipped below the Elderwyn hills, Erik sat quietly beside the river. The water shimmered gold.
"Why does the sky change colors?" he asked, only 5 years old.
His father smiled. "Because even the sky likes to rest, son."
Erik tilted his head. "Do souls rest too?"
Garrick paused. "Some do. Some… wait for something."
Far within, the ancient soul chuckled softly.
"Smart little thing."
That night, Erik had his first dream.A battlefield.Broken swords.A man standing alone… laughing as gods bled.
He woke up sweating. But he said nothing.
The soul whispered from the shadows of his mind:
"Sleep now, Erik. Your time hasn't come yet. But when it does… the world will remember your name."