FROM DARKNESS, A LIGHT

Thunder and rain boomed from the sky, encapsulating the dark, otherwise silent night. Muddied and wetted earth stood in solace, surrounded by sharp, tip-shaped mountains and thick forests of oddly shaped trees. The valley was currently inhabited by thousands of people, all standing, their hands crossed behind their backs, all looking down as rain poured against them and alongside them.

At the far front, adorned in ritualistic robe and surrounded by eight pillars erected upright, glimmering in faint cyan, a short, old man lied motionless. Standing solemnly above him was a fair, golden-haired youth, his expression downcast. His arms rested freely at the sides of his body as faint, golden sheen shimmered off the surface of his adorned robe. He suddenly knelt slowly and placed the index finger between his brows, closing his eyes as he muttered intangible words.

As the silent prayer came to an end, and as he got up and faced the ocean of people behind him, all suddenly lifted their heads toward the sky and released a lungful battle cry. The surrounding mountains shook and skies trembled as thunder replied in kind, drowning the silent world in its tune.

The battle cry ended and, with a slight bow toward the altar, the crowd scattered quickly into the dark of the night, with only three remaining behind: Ryon, Eeala and Sa Rai. The latter two joined Ryon at the altar shortly after, their eyes focused on the corpse in front of them which suddenly turned to ash and dispersed; after all, it was artificially made merely for the ceremony, and old man’s actual body had long since been destroyed.

“… have the others been warned?” Ryon asked in a low tone.

“Yes.” Sa Rai said calmly, his long scar twitching lightly. “We’ve miscalculated.”

“Yes we have.” Ryon nodded, sighing slightly. “Nonetheless, we can only look forward.”

“The boy, and everyone else, have disappeared,” Eeala said. “It appears that the time is near.”

“… they don’t matter to us anymore,” Ryon said. “All we can do is have faith in our Fathers and do the best we can on our side.”

“I still can’t believe the old man’s been defeated so easily,” Sa Rai said, sighing. “Or that he sounded genuinely terrified when he warned us to back off.”

“… it’s all on me,” Ryon said. “I’m the one who pushed the hardest to ignore the boy, and thus we arrive to today. I should have trusted Y’se’s judgment, yet in defiance, I didn’t. Shameful.”

“It’s alright,” Sa Rai said. “Nobody expected or predicted this. But, as you said, the boy’s no longer our problem. Perhaps, he never really was.”

“Perhaps…” Ryon said, looking up at the dark sky, letting the rain blast against his face.

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” Eeala said. “Let us know if Fathers reply.”

“I will. Good luck and be careful.” Ryon said.

“We will.”

Eeala and Sa Rai glanced at the downcast Ryon one last time before disappearing into the darkness like the rest of their brethren. Shortly after, the fair youth fell onto his knees, his eyes changing their hue slightly. Clasping his hands in front of his chest and intertwining his fingers tightly, he began muttering. Not a prayer or a calling, not a plea, just an indistinguishable name, over and over again. Whisper carried into the wind, blown to the sky and beyond. Rain fell and thunder sounded, and days and nights danced in a cycle. As days passed on, Ryon felt more and more pressure bear on his shoulder yet, rather than a pained expression, a joyful smile emerged onto his face. His ears and eyes bled, and his body thinned out and hair fell alongside the rain, yet the smile never disappeared from his face.

“… Father…” Ryon said at last as the sun broke through the thick clouds and shone golden on top of him. His voice was weak and coarse, barely audible, yet filled with incessant joy and delirium. “Thank You… Thank You…”

“…” no reply came, but Ryon wasn’t discouraged. He swallowed a mouthful of blood and erected himself upright while still kneeling, arching his head backward and looking straight at the blinding sun in the sky.

“I pray You divine upon me—“

“You have disappointed Me,” a strong, resonating voice interrupted him, causing a headache akin to thousands of swords being pierced through his skull. Ryon screamed out in pain and agony as he began vomiting blood in spades, barely hanging on from toppling over onto the floor. Crimson blood encapsulated his entire being, and stretched eyes shimmered with absolute terror and agony. “Broke Our Promise, Child of Sun.”

“…f-f-father…” Ryon stuttered weakly.

“We have showered you – YOU – an insignificant nothing in Our Benevolence, in Our Glory, in Our Pride!” the voice grew louder as mountains around Ryon quaked and split apart, bursting out into splinters, mixing in with rain. Ryon screamed out atop of his lungs as he felt his head would explode at any moment, and that his heart would freeze over.

“—fo-forgive, forgive… Father… forgive…”

“We,” before Ryon’s eyes, a mirage flashed; colors interwove as though brushed on canvas, as fiery ring emerged from within, beyond it a land of nothing and everything. Ryon’s heart stopped and all pain disappeared as he felt the sheer amount of Mana circulating within the mirage. Then, a round realm, its surface scorched and burning appeared, and then another, and within the darkness void of stars, realm after realm, spherically shaped, floating around in the infinity, sprung into existence one after another, until darkness no longer lived on empty. “Borne the Calamity,” then, from within the heart of the darkness, a beautiful star lit up, wholly white in hue, and showered the spherical realms in color and life. Hands enveloped realms as creatures hidden in shadows emerged one my one, standing like elongated giants, all looking at the singularity of light at the very heart of everything. Then the light dimmed and grew weaker, moment after moment. Those furthest away from it quickly turned to ash and disappeared, and screams and weeps had trodden through its infinity. “Sheltered the Agony,” infinity collapsed, and light was no more. “And Were born Anew.”

Yet, from its ashes, new endlessness had spawned and light broke through the infinite darkness once more. From the nothingness, as eons passed, light burst out in rays, and new, bright cosmic lights emerged. Fiery blazes flew through, and as though pulled by invisible hands, from time to time, would halt and round the bright lights. Thus, in due time, life was born anew, and with it, new giants emerged from nothingness and everything. And then, beyond them, new lives began to sprawl… until, one day, long in to the future from when the light was born, human-like creatures appeared, and, from them, first humans were slowly born. Thousands of realms bore life, of all shapes, sizes and kids, yet, only One carried the trace of Light, yet, one was shattered in a war, and from it, Seven were spawned.

“We withstood it All!” the voice resonated deep within Ryon’s Soul, pulling it apart as though intent on ripping it into shreds. Pain grew ever so numbing, yet death seemed so far away. Ryon had given in, and listened – listened with all his heart to every word, carefully focused onto the mirage playing before him, afraid he’d miss a single speck. “Yet, you – an insignificant nothing – dares ask Us for forgiveness?!” from within a mirage, something akin to a face appeared. Ryon only caught a glimpse before his eyes turned into fiery blaze as he screamed out in agony. As they burned in brilliance, the voice echoed one last time as the pressure subsided. “Win your war,” the voice said. “Or you shall never herald your birthright glory.”

Mountains remained crumbled as the silence encapsulated the realm yet again; sun which had burst through the clouds was gone, and the mirage was nowhere to be found. Ryon felt every bone in his body crack as he toppled over. One glimpse was all it took for his eyes to burn into ash, never to recover. He knew immediately he’d forever remain blind, yet, he didn’t care. That faint glimpse was more than worthy of all he had suffered, and much, much more. His fair, handsome features now stood disfigured, and his golden hair had turned completely white, and his originally slender but muscular body had thinned out to skin and bone… yet, he didn’t care. His lips danced up into a smile. He broke out into a weak chuckle, yet the rest of his body remained motionless. His days were counted, whether the War was won or lost. What was given to him was being taken away, and only a breadth of life remained within his Soul. He forced himself to look up into the sky, grunting in agony and pain, and parted his lips as a whisper escaped softly into the wind.

“… for Thy Glory,” he said. “Sons of Light, Beholders of Darkness… and Fathers and Mothers of us all…”