Xerathis — The Soul Blade
The throne hall of Xerathis was cold and silent.
Black fire torches burned along the obsidian walls, casting long shadows that seemed to move like restless spirits. At the center of the hall, upon a throne carved from volcanic stone, Malakor waited.
Motionless.
Silent.
The massive stone doors opened.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber.
Korrath entered and immediately dropped to one knee.
“My king… I bring news from the border.”
Malakor did not answer right away.
“Speak.”
Korrath kept his head lowered.
“One of our warriors… used the amplification.”
The silence that followed grew heavy in the air.
Malakor slowly rose from the throne.
“I ordered that no one was to use it yet.”
“He encountered Captain Valerius. The Unbreakable.”
Malakor stopped walking.
“And?”
“He chose to fight rather than be captured. He died… but not before activating amplification three times.”
Malakor began walking slowly across the hall.
“And even then… it wasn’t enough.”
He stopped before a pedestal covered by a black cloth.
With a slow motion, he pulled the fabric away.
The weapon beneath it revealed itself.
A curved blade forged from a dark metal that seemed to swallow the surrounding light.
Ancient runes ran across its surface, pulsing with a faint violet glow.
Small crystal fragments floated slowly around the weapon.
“The Soul Blade.”
At that moment, the sage of Xerathis entered the hall.
Malakor lifted the weapon.
“Show them.”
The sage nodded.
From his belt he drew a second blade.
Smaller.
Simpler.
“This is the field blade.”
He gestured toward the corpse lying on the floor.
“Our soldiers used weapons like this on the border.”
He drove the blade into the body.
Faint runes lit up.
A dim glow ran through the corpse.
Then something began to emerge.
A core.
It slowly rose from the body.
It still carried color.
It still carried traces of the soul that once held it.
The sage raised it between his fingers.
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“The field blade separates the core from the body at the moment of death.”
He rotated the core slightly.
“But it still carries identity.”
“Memory.”
“Affinity.”
“A connection to the Animic Current.”
He then brought the core close to the Soul Blade.
The runes along the weapon ignited.
The core was pulled into the blade.
Violet energy pulsed through the hall.
For several seconds… nothing happened.
Then the weapon released something.
Another core.
Clear.
Colorless.
Without affinity.
Without identity.
A virgin core.
The sage lifted it.
“The field blade begins the process.”
He glanced toward Malakor.
“The Soul Blade… finishes it.”
Korrath folded his arms.
“And with that, we amplify our warriors.”
The sage nodded.
“The Grand Pact prevents anyone from forcing their own core beyond its limit.”
He held the virgin core up.
“If a warrior attempted amplification using only his own core… it would shatter.”
“Instant death.”
He continued calmly.
“But when we implant virgin cores…”
“Part of the strain is redirected to them.”
Korrath understood immediately.
“So they absorb the impact of the amplification.”
“Most of it,” the sage replied.
“But not all.”
He continued.
“Basic cores endure very little.”
“Advanced cores endure more.”
“Superior cores… would endure even greater strain.”
Malakor stared at the Soul Blade.
“Then we must evolve.”
He lifted the weapon.
“Four times.”
“Five times.”
“As far as we can reach.”
Korrath knelt once again.
“And when we are ready?”
Malakor answered calmly.
“We wait.”
He gazed toward the endless desert of Xerathis.
His eyes burned with ancient hatred.
“And then we collect every debt Xerathis is owed.”
The Soul Blade pulsed softly in his hands.
?
The Ash Village
Days later, Lyra finally reached the place he had been searching for.
The Ash Village.
Ancient stone houses.
Endless mist.
A heavy silence hanging over everything.
The villagers watched the young prince with suspicion.
“Who is he?”
“He looks like a noble…”
“I don’t trust this…”
Lyra raised both hands peacefully.
“I’m looking for Master Orion.”
A voice answered from the shadows.
“Then you’ve found him.”
The old man stood in the doorway of a small wooden cabin.
Long white hair.
Eyes that seemed to see far beyond the present.
“It has been a long time since someone from the palace came here.”
Lyra immediately dropped to one knee.
“My father said you might be able to help me.”
Orion smiled faintly.
“So Thalric still trusts me.”
He snapped his fingers.
The world vanished.
When Lyra opened his eyes again—
They were standing in an open field beneath a sky full of stars.
“Teleportation,” Orion said calmly.
Lyra took a slow breath.
“I came because I need to become stronger.”
Orion studied him.
“To protect your brother.”
Lyra hesitated.
Then lowered his head.
“I… was afraid.”
Orion did not interrupt.
“Afraid of what?”
Lyra clenched his fists.
“My brother.”
“What they placed inside him.”
His voice faltered.
“I saw that darkness… and I stepped back.”
He looked up again.
“I was supposed to be the shield.”
“My light was supposed to protect him.”
“Instead… they placed that burden on a baby.”
Orion remained silent for several seconds.
“And now?”
Lyra inhaled deeply.
“Now I want to be strong.”
“Strong enough to protect him.”
Orion nodded slowly.
“You already know what your core is.”
“Superior. Light.”
Lyra confirmed.
Orion continued.
“Most people possess basic cores.”
“Fire.”
“Water.”
“Earth.”
“Wind.”
“Lightning.”
“Some refine these elements.”
“Ice.”
“Metal.”
“Those are advanced cores.”
He looked directly at Lyra.
“Superior cores are rare.”
“A few exist throughout the world.”
“In other kingdoms.”
Lyra listened carefully.
Orion continued.
“And beyond them… the Primordials.”
The wind moved across the field.
“Demons.”
“Beings so powerful that the Ancients had to compress their existence into cores.”
He looked directly into Lyra’s eyes.
“Like the one sealed inside your brother.”
A chill ran down Lyra’s spine.
Orion placed a hand on his shoulder.
“And that is why you are here.”
Lyra nodded.
“Yes.”
“Because if that thing ever awakens…”
Orion finished the thought.
“Your light may be the only thing capable of bringing him back.”
He smiled faintly.
“Then let’s begin.”
Lyra answered immediately.
“I’m ready.”
Orion laughed softly.
“This will hurt.”
“It already does.”
“Good.”
“Then let’s see what a prince’s light is truly capable of.”
?
Distant Fields
Far from the palace…
Kael trained alone.
Lightning exploded against stone.
The ground was filled with craters.
“Stronger…”
He breathed heavily.
“I need to become stronger.”
More lightning.
More explosions.
Until finally he dropped to his knees.
Breathing hard.
One day… no one will save me.
One day… I will be the one who saves others.
He stood again.
And resumed training.
?
The Palace Balcony
Night covered Therion Vales.
Thalric stood on the palace balcony, gazing at the horizon.
Valerius approached.
“My king.”
“Captain.”
They stood in silence for a moment.
“The borders are quiet,” Valerius said.
“Too quiet.”
“I thought the same.”
Thalric sighed.
“Remain vigilant.”
“Always.”
Valerius bowed and left.
Thalric remained there, watching the stars.
?
The Years That Followed
Months turned into years.
Lyra trained in the Ash Village.
Kael continued his solitary training.
Valerius watched the borders every night.
And Zeryon…
Zeryon grew.
At three years old he ran through the palace gardens.
Laughing.
Playing.
But whenever he passed near the servants—
They stepped away.
“Grandmother…”
“Why do they run away?”
Selene knelt in front of him.
“It isn’t you, my angel.”
She embraced him gently.
“It’s their fear.”
Zeryon didn’t understand.
He simply returned to chasing butterflies.
Innocent.
Unaware of the burden he carried.
Unaware that a demon slept within him.
He only knew that he was loved.
For now.
?
Five Years Later…
Other powers are awakening.
