The stars shone more lively than ever, especially the three above all.
But the most magnificent sight was the reflection of the stars in the eyes of a crow perched on a branch.
It's a tear; having captured the radiance, it made it glow even more.
Just then, sounds come from the place where it was seated, beneath the oak tree.
Then it leapt into the vast night, but just as it did, a tear fell downwards.
As it fell downwards, everything around it seemed to have slowed down. But instead of hitting the ground, it landed on something soft.
The sounds echoed through the forest before reaching into the vast area of emptiness, the outskirts of this very forest.
These lands were so dreadful that no mortal would dare to traverse them.
The only remarkable feature it possessed was the towering gates, carved at the mountain's summit.
It's easy to be deceived by the appearance of this particular mountain.
Though it looked vibrant and alive, it holds a past that no one can ever forget in their lifetime.
When those gates are viewed from afar, they look majestic, emanating an aura so intense that it could shake the soul of the mightiest.
"We need its power before the sun rises."
Sounds came from the front of the gate.
Though they appeared unaffected, their eyes were red, their hearts raced, and sweat covered their bodies.
Two of them remained still, patiently waiting.
Their Blackish-Gray robes fluttered in the breeze, carrying the scent of rotten blood smeared on the fabric.
One of them stood up to draw a strange pattern on the ground. However, this pattern was no ordinary design, as it absorbed the aura directly from the gate itself.
"When the moon is at its peak, these chains shall break."
A voice emerged from deep within the gates, speaking directly into their minds.
But it made a request, or more like a command, before them.
Both knew what had been requested from them, but neither could meet the other's gaze.
Then one of them pulled a piece of glass out of his pocket.
Moments later, the sound of dry wood snapping broke the stillness.
That piece of glass reflected a scene of an old man entering the forest.
It seemed that he was there to collect firewood, as he carried a rusty axe.
He wore a straw hat and white clothes, with wrinkles near his face, but his eyes sparkled in the night.
Just as he was about to chop some wood, he heard faint cries coming from deep within the forest.
This startled him.
As he was familiar with nearly every sound of the forest—the hoot of an owl, the rustle of a badger, and the whine of the wind.
Now his face began to sweat from this intense moment.
But this sound was very different; it did not belong here.
It was the unmistakable, fragile cries of a mortal child; he then proceeded towards the sound.
Slow yet cautious.
But when he arrived there, all he saw was an ancient oak tree covered by moss.
He was sure that the cries came from this very tree, but when he looked at it, all he found were dried branches covering it completely.
Now, the old man was in a confused state.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard those cries once more. But now, they were much closer.
The man's face brightened with hope, and then he looked down toward the root of the oak tree.
Bingo! He found a hole hidden beneath thick, lush bushes.
As he parted those bushes, he saw a crib. Inside it lay an infant sleeping peacefully, as if unaware of the horrors of this world.
Then, something reflected the light back into the old man's eyes.
The old man stumbled backward. He growled softly before letting out a cry of pain.
What mattered most was the baby, so he slowly got back to his feet and looked back towards the hole.
This time, he saw a mirror placed exactly in the middle of the crib.
Just as he picked it up, he saw nothing but the background scenery reflected in it.
He turned to look at the infant; just then, another reflection appeared in the mirror.
It was red—not just any shade of red, but as if it were covered in blood.
Suddenly, the sound of someone being stabbed was heard from afar. The noise came from the very place where the two individuals were seated.
Wran, how could you?
The man's eyes rolled as he coughed up blood from his mouth, all while staring at Malazar.
He couldn't believe his eyes as the man he trusted the most had betrayed him at that very moment.
Then his vision began to fade, signaling that his end had come.
"You made one mistake in your life—that is to trust me." Malazar laughed menacingly.
He showed no remorse for what he had done; all he saw was a bug trying to take over what was his while looking at that dead body with a disgusted face.
Then he removed the hood that was covering his head, revealing eyes as red as blood and hair the color of crimson.
He dragged that body towards the center of that very pattern; from it, the blood began to flow, covering the very pattern he had previously carved.
Then the pattern hummed to life, and a vortex descended from the sky, swallowing the air around it.
It was so powerful that even the old man in the forest could feel it.
"What's this anomaly?" The old man spoke anxiously.
Without wasting any time, he picked up the baby, secured him on his back, and then started walking toward a different exit of the forest.
As he knew from the main exit, that was from where all the commotion was taking place. Just as he walked, he heard loud sounds of menacing laughter echo.
Malazar had now completely lost his sanity; his face was twisted in corrupt pleasure.
Just then, the moon aligned perfectly above the vortex.
Boom.
The vortex's energy started turning green as it began to draw power from the gates.
"Finally, I will be free," a voice spoke with pleasure.
Just as the voice deep within the gates spoke, instead of the chains breaking, they gripped the gates even tighter.
Then, from the chains, arose a beast so ferocious that it completely neutralized the energy vortex.
A loud explosion was heard that shocked the entire world.
…
The pattern was destroyed, and Malazar was in a state beyond comprehension. His face was burnt, and his hands were severed, yet he laughed menacingly.
"After years of trial and error, I finally have found the way to accomplish my goals."
With that, Malazar disappeared in an instant.
That beast was still there, watching everything with its keen eyes; it held a worried expression on its face.
It turned back toward the gate, knowing that the person inside was furious with rage.
"You damn beast! Once I am free, I shall torment your soul for all eternity."
It didn't show any emotion in response to that person's voice; instead, it seemed worried about something else, just as it turned its head to look toward the forest.
It sensed something strange. The beast's mouth was wide open; then it let out a grin of laughter and turned toward the person inside the gate.
"What, you think that infant can beat me?"
The beast nodded, then with a snap of its tail, it severed that person's soul connection to the mortal world.
Then it looked toward the forest again, but this time its eyes showed the old man walking alongside the infant.
Dawn was near, painting the eastern sky with a fiery glow.
Finally, they reached their destination. It was an old hut, and beside it was a pond; on top of that was a wooden plank, where a dog was sleeping peacefully.
That dog jolted up as soon as it smelled its master coming.
"Quite an unusual night it was."
The old man let out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from his face with his hand. His expression had tightened up now, as if he had forgotten something.
But just then, his dog brought the axe back to him.
The old man patted his head, and the dog then looked at the baby on his back with a puzzled expression.
The old man, upon seeing the sight, slowly untied the knot and then placed the infant on his lap.
The dog came closer to look, tilting its head. Then it looked up, as if asking its master something.
He noticed it and spoke with calmness on his face.
"I don't know where this child is from, but I will not leave him alone in these forests. From this day on, he will be a member of our family, and his name will be."
Dai—the one defied his fate