Chapter 1: The Ashes of Belialuin
The skies above Belialuin were dark with war. Ominous clouds twisted unnaturally, heavy with divine wrath and demonic malice. Below them, the greatest city of magic in all Britannia burned. Towers of crystal and runes cracked as holy light clashed with abyssal flames, shaking the ground with every arcane explosion. The mages of Belialuin, once untouchable in their wisdom and power, now stood broken against the fury of the gods they never wished to serve.
In the heart of the Grand Arcanum — a marble sanctum deep beneath the city — nine elders gathered in a final circle. They were the last council of Belialuin: masters of time, space, mind, and soul. Faces ancient and solemn, they stood cloaked in ethereal robes, each bearing a sigil that glowed faintly as the sanctuary trembled around them.
"The barriers are failing," Elder Vaeldrin said, his voice low and heavy with inevitability. "We cannot repel both the Goddess and Demon clans. This was never our war."
"And yet we are the ones condemned," muttered Elder Cyras, bitterly. "Because she wouldn't choose."
The chamber grew still. All eyes turned to the projection hovering in the center of the circle — an illusion of a younger woman, confident and enigmatic, with raven-black hair and a staff wreathed in cosmic light: Merlin.
"She defied the gods," said Elder Aelira, voice trembling with a fury rarely seen in her. "We warned her. We all did. But she refused to side with either clan. She rejected them both, and in return, they united to destroy us."
"She was our finest mind," Vaeldrin whispered. "But her ambition blinded her. To seek blessing from both the Supreme Deity and Demon King... she defied the balance of existence itself."
"And now Belialuin pays the price," spat Cyras.
Another tremor shook the city. The arcane dome protecting the sanctum flickered, then dimmed.
"It is time," said Elder Nyrem. "We cannot preserve the city, but we can preserve its legacy."
The elders stepped forward and raised their staffs in unison. Ancient runes spiraled outward, forming a glowing sigil on the marble floor.
"We will not let our knowledge die with us," Aelira intoned. "Let it live on — in one who carries our blood."
A girl stepped into the circle. No older than twenty, her eyes wide with fear but filled with courage. She was one of their own, a promising scholar, chosen for her strong bloodline and unwavering spirit.
Elder Vaeldrin extended a hand to her. "Child, you carry the last hope of Belialuin. Through you, our wisdom shall endure. Through your descendants, one shall rise worthy to inherit it."
"What must I do?" she asked, voice shaking.
"Run," said Cyras. "Run and never look back."
The spell began. The chamber erupted with light as the elders chanted in unison:
"Threnody Aeternum — Enseal the Soul Eternal."
Golden runes swirled around the girl, branding themselves into her back like a magical birthmark. The sigil of Belialuin — a sun flanked by a crescent moon and a star — burned into her skin. Her body became the vessel. Their power, their voices, and the history of their people flowed into her.
She cried out, falling to her knees as the burden took root.
Aelira knelt beside her. "You will live. You will love. You will bear children. And one day, when the time is right… the seal will break, and the last child of Belialuin will rise."
Outside, the final wall of magic shattered. The demon king's horde surged forward, followed by the luminous army of the Supreme Deity. Both forces stormed into the city like a flood, their weapons blazing with divine and infernal judgment.
The girl vanished through a secret tunnel seconds before the sanctum collapsed.
And thus, Belialuin was erased from the map of Britannia.
But its legacy… had only just begun.
[Word Count: 644]