Days before the devastation of the Northern Barony, the sun rose pale over the golden fields, illuminating the knight who cut through the horizon.
Brianna rode toward the west, the wind lifting the dust beneath the hooves while the dark cloak waved behind her like a moving shadow. She was dressed for war — dark clothes shaped for mobility, light armor adjusted to the body and two daggers fastened to the belts, simple but precise. Nothing in her suggested ostentation; only purpose.
It was evident that her true power did not come from the blades, but from something deeper — a force that seemed to inhabit the air around her.
Each step of the horse was firm, but her presence conveyed calm and authority, as if even the wind quieted in respect. Ahead, the army of the Central King marched, determined to destroy all neutral nobles.
And Brianna knew what awaited her — because she had already heard the warning from the mouth of whom she least expected. The present began to unravel like smoke, and, amid the shadows that remained, the past emerged.
"She clenched her fists.
The laughter had vanished; in its place, a calm sharp as glass.
"Very well, Typhon," said Brianna, the voice low, firm and laden with lethal irony. "Tell me what you know."
He looked at her with a crooked smile, the red eyes glinting under the torchlight — the unmistakable gaze of a pure being of chaos.
"Well..." he said, tilting his head slightly, the voice loaded with a provoking serenity. "Where do you wish me to start, my dear Brianna? With the king's lies... or with the truths you prefer not to hear?"
She looked at him, ignoring the provocative tone, and spoke coldly:
"I don't have time for your little games. Just tell me… don't you find it strange the king trying something like this? He must have some guarantee."
Typhon smiled sideways, tilting his head with that insolent air of someone who already knows more than he should.
"Oh, Brianna… you still believe the king acts on his own?" He laughed low, almost a whisper, full of irony. "Since we are walking toward a partnership, I can tell you a little secret: the king is involved with a group."
She frowned. "A group?"
"They call themselves Democrats," he said, with theatrical disdain. "A beautiful name, don't you think? But don't be fooled, there is nothing of freedom there. They are the same ones who finance part of the Church and have spies in the Mercenary Guild."
"And you know all this… how?" asked Brianna, the tone mixed with incredulity and distrust.
Typhon smiled, the eyes shining — not with power, but with pure delight in seeing her lose herself in her own curiosity.
"Ah, my dear, it's easy when you learn that every faith has a price… and every king has an owner."
He took a step forward, the voice becoming almost seductive:
"But I can tell you everything, everything indeed, as soon as I fix this body. After all… the body of the little prince here can't contain a fine Primordial Beast."
Brianna's memories began to dissolve, like ink diluting in water.Typhon's voice grew distant, his smile fading in the veil of memory — until everything broke into silence."
When the mist of the past dissolved, she perceived something before her: a hooded being, the face completely covered, emanating an aura so dense that it seemed to absorb the very air around.
The present pulled her back with force.
Brianna was in the last village before the ruins of the Western Marquisate, but there was no life there.The houses were broken, burned, shattered structures rising among the debris.
Dried blood stained the ground and the walls, reminders of a brutal attack that had passed months before. Each wreck, each shadow, seemed to whisper memories of violence and death that persisted even in absolute silence.
The horse neighed nervously, but Brianna did not avert her gaze. Her hand went instinctively to the belt, touching the dagger.
The hooded being remained motionless ahead, silent, as if absorbing her every movement.
The ground creaked under the weight of its own silence, and the feeling that something could explode at any instant made her pulse quicken.
"Who are you?" she asked, the voice firm but sharp, cutting through the heavy air.
The being only tilted its head. A thin fissure of energy opened beneath its feet, pulsing with a spectral light, alive like a heart about to explode.
Brianna stepped back half a step, aware that what was before her was not human — and that the slightest mistake could cost her life.
The hooded being took a step forward, the voice low and laden with a provoking cadence:
"My name is Whirok Tenebris, and I am in search of the Prince of the Abyss. By chance have you seen one around here?"
Brianna tightened her fists over the reins. One step back. The body tense, the shoulders rigid. Her eyes widened, quick blinks, the breathing short and irregular.
"Why would I know anything about that?" she said, the voice firm but trembling. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you."
Whirok smiled, provocative:
"White hair, eyes like the moon…" he said, as if reciting a memory. "That was the description that one Telvaris gave my people. What was the name…? Ah, yes. Brianna."
She jumped from the horse, stepping back quickly, the hand brushing the belt where the dagger was fastened, a quick look around, body slightly tilted backward.
Each gesture, each short breath, conveyed pure fear. Inside the hood, a smile seemed to form, but only the right eye, red as ember, stood out.
"What did you do to him?" asked Brianna, the voice laden with tension, almost trembling. "And who are you, really?"
Whirok tilted his head slowly. Then, the atmosphere around him seemed to vibrate, as if an invisible energy condensed in the air.
A cold and crushing sensation descended upon Brianna, pressing her chest and making it hard to breathe. The air around seemed denser, heavier, and a chill ran down her spine.
"He is in a better place…"— he said, the voice low, laden with provocation, making the air around seem heavier, as if the very shadow of the Abyss condensed. "But…"
He paused almost theatrically, the single eye shining like an ember.
"They also tend to call me… Prince of the Abyss."
The title fell upon Brianna like a physical blow. Her body recoiled involuntarily, the eyes widening, the hand gripping the dagger tightly.
The energy around him seemed to absorb everything, as if covering the village in living shadows. Every muscle in her body contracted, fear piercing every fiber.
Whirok tilted his head, observing every minimal reaction.
"So tell me… where can I find a being called Ereon?"
Brianna felt the energy around him compress the air, as if every breath cost double. The chest tightened, the fingers instinctively touching the belt, and a shiver ran down her spine.
"So…" her voice came almost a whisper "what do you want with him?"
He tilted his head, the red eye fixed on her, the voice low and almost amused:
"Devour him."
The air seemed to stiffen for an instant, as if the shadows around reacted to the word. Whirok smiled, tilting his head, savoring every sign of tension she emitted.
"In the Abyss…" he began, the voice low, laden with a hypnotic cadence "there exists a hierarchy that does not forgive weakness. Here, you train, study, strive to grow stronger.
There, no… there you devour whoever stands before you."
He made a subtle gesture, and the shadows around twisted, undulating like living serpents. A cold wind crossed the ruins, cutting the air and bringing with it the smell of iron and broken stone.
"Each being you consume… it's not just physical strength or magic. It's the essence, the memories, the will to dominate. You absorb all that and become greater, faster, deadlier."
A star was born in the black sky of the Abyss, appearing from nothing, pulsing with cold light. Brianna swallowed hard, the heart racing, the shoulders tensing.
"Do you know what that means, Brianna?" he asked, the only visible eye shining like ember.
She hesitated, almost breathless. "That… a new prince has arisen?"
Whirok raised his hand, and the shadows advanced like a swarm, swallowing a small ruined house. In seconds, stone, wood, and dried blood disappeared, leaving only silence and emptiness.
"Exactly." He tilted his head, observing each of her reactions. "If I devour him before he can establish his territory, not only will I absorb his strength… but I will expand my power, my influence, my dominion."
Brianna's chest tightened even more, the air seemed heavy. She stepped back, the hand holding the dagger, the eyes wide, the breathing short and irregular. A cold ran through every fiber of her body.
"And what guarantees you that you will manage to defeat him?" she asked, the voice trembling slightly, almost lost among the wind of the shadows.
He stopped, and the silence that followed seemed solid, almost suffocating. Then he spoke, with a confidence that seemed to bend the very space around:
"Because I am older."
The shadows around trembled, as if responding to his words, and Brianna felt a chill run through her entire spine, every fiber of her body tense, unable to retreat faster.
Suddenly, heavy steps cut through the silence of the ruins. Brianna turned and saw soldiers of the Temple advancing, armed, determined. The chest tightened, the fingers brushing the dagger, but every muscle of her body trembled with tension.
Whirok only tilted his head, the red eye shining beneath the hood. In an almost imperceptible movement, the shadows around him twisted and launched upon the soldiers.
In an instant, they were obliterated with brutality — bodies thrown, bones broken, dried blood splattering across the ruins. The silence returned, heavy and suffocating, and none of the men had time to react.
Whirok turned slowly.
"Where were we?" he murmured, the tone low and amused.
But Brianna had already disappeared among the shadows of the forest. A crooked smile formed beneath the hood, and his voice cut through the air, cold and predatory:
"Ah… there she goes. But running won't save her for long."
The wind carried the deadly silence through the ruins, making clear that the game had only just begun.