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The Last Stand

by Jerek Lo on Jul 29, 2010 at 06:45 PM}
“Volcanic glass… does such wonders for the feet…” Jerek said as he kicked a large shard of obsidian from the bottom of his foot. “Better be glad I prefer not wearing shoes.”

He looked across the desolate fire islands. For generations these lands have remained burned and cracked, covered in the lava that constantly spewed from the earth below. The Char once claimed this land was the home of their gods, the Titans, great beings of fire that once almost brought about the doom of the entire world. They were both there that day, fighting to cast the Titans back to the depths whence they came. No home could be better.

“Getting soft on me, or just old?” She said to her old friend, a spot of light in a dark blighted place, her feet equally bare. The years have always been kind to Hermana, her hair still done up in the braids of Jerek first met her with. He never understood her fascination with that style, but it worked. It wouldn’t be hard to mistake her for one of the Kabal’s newer recruits if one was foolish enough not to recognize Hermana Eve, the preeminent healer of her generation and highest ranking of the Kabal’s many agents.

“Bah, been old for a long time now. Give me a few more years on the soft part.” Jerek said as he stroked the streak of silver that had begun to show in his dark hair. He blew the shuck of hair out of his eyes as he watched Hermana survey the island. It had been a long time since she had shown this much concern. It has been a long time since either had to show concern at all. The wars that once ravaged Tyria had long since faded from time. The countless foes thrown back by the Kabal and their actions were now merely stories told to children.

For years Hermana had been nothing more than a simple monk, healing the weak and weary both in mind and soul. Jerek would visit her from time to time, seeing if the years of peace had eaten away at her as much as he. But rarely did she ever show much concern, offering only a snide remark anytime Jerek brought up the ‘good ole days.’ He always returned them in kind. Antagonism was always their trade.

But that had changed once Hermana decided to leave the monastery. For years she had trained the next generation of healers in her arts, many of her techniques secret even to the members of the Kabal. One day, she simply stopped and packed her bags. Something had shaken her from her work, a job well done. Now her focus shifted to her family. Some dark feeling that if she didn’t leave the monastery now, she may never see her sisters again.

They were a strange occurrence in the Kabal, the sisters Eve. Never had three members of the same family been chosen so closely together and shown such great promise and ability. Eve of Earth, as she was called, was the eldest of the tree, a brash and powerful elementalist whose powers shook the very land she was named for. Hermana was the middle child, a legendary healer whose metal was tested during the Char invasion that took the life of her brother and led her into the armies of the Kabal. Youngest of the trio was Alma, who followed in Hermana’s in foot steps and become a renowned ritualist studying the rifts and its connection to the world beyond.
But as with all families so talented, animosity would arise between the sister and their fights would lead them to separate, sometimes for years, before they searched each other out again. In the end it was always Hermana’s duty to bring the sisters together, and now her duty called.

The pair ventured deeper into the fire islands, the inhospitable environment scaring off most of the younger members of their squad, but for Hermana and Jerek this was ground crossed more times than they could remember. The great pillars of basalt and black glass reach far into the sky as they delved deeper into the island, the great river of lava still burning as brightly as they had since time immaterial. The only thing leading them a sisters intuition.

There in the heart of the island they found it, darker than even the black glass that surrounded them, the bottomless void of some long forgotten portal to another world. Jerek reached his hand out, the energy from the dark abyss causing a cold sensation to the very pit of his stomach. Hermana finished his sentence before he could utter it.

“This is a Torment Portal.”

Jerek lowered his hand as he continued to study the tear in space. “Think we can seal it?”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin; the rifts were always Alma’s specialty.”

“We need to hurry! If anything’s escaped through this thing…”

Like the words of some incantation brought to life, the screams of Jerek and Hermana’s men echoed through the obsidian crevice. Running as fast as they could, they were met only with horror. Before them to bodies of their men, slain, tattered and burned before them, stretched across the island. They had both seen this kind of carnage before, the memories of the titans coursed through their minds as they followed the trail of bodies farther into the uncharted desolation.

The trail of bodies soon faded as the talons of the Titan’s claws now took over, leaving burning gashes in the ground and walls of the volcanic valleys. They continued in, ready for whatever may come; their path leading to the precipice of the one of the island’s great volcanoes. And there the trail ended.

The pair scanned the edge of the volcano, the great pool of lava stretching off to the edge of the island, pouring into the ocean and giving life to the new stretch of land before it. Hermana gritted her teeth as she looking for a sign of anything, her men, the monster…her sister.

Before they could react the great sea of lava burst forth, the flaming maw of the titan gashing as it drew closer to Hermana and Jerek. With lightning reflexes, Jerek threw up a shield spell, driving back the monster. Instinctively Hermana focused her mana, sending a bolt of holy light at their foe, cleaving a burning chunk of the monster flesh from its shoulder.

With a great heave the Titan brought its full body against Jerek’s shield, breaking the magical barrier and sending both Jerek and Hermana down the side of the volcano. Grasping for a jut of rock, with one hand Hermana stopped their plummet to the jagged stones below them, her other hand grasping the neck of Jerek’s armor. Whatever strength the gods gave Hermana’s small frame that day no one knows, but with one arm she was able to swing Jerek to the side of the cliff to help him secure a grasp to the cliff’s edge.

Above them the Titan loomed, tossing whatever loose boulder it could find to strike at its foes, but the jut of rock his Hermana and Jerek form its flaming eyes. Satisfied with its victory, the titan turned to its true business.

Raising its hands high, speaking in a voice unheard of on this earth in millennia, the creature uttered is forgotten chant before the sea of lava. The pool of flame began to stir, the magma becoming a whirlpool as the spell continued on. Above the pool darkness grew from nothing and the dark realm of torment began to poor from a new rift torn the very fabric of reality itself. Jerek and Hermana climbed the cliff as fast as they could, their effort useless to close the coming chaos.

Suddenly, the Titan stopped, its focus broken by a shadow across the pool. Floating on a hardened block of lava stood the one person who could stop the titan, and the one person who they had searched so long for, Eve of Earth. “I don’t take kindly to the way you’ve treated my sister monster!”

With a wave of her hand, the lava was alive to her whim as a wave of magma drew Earth’s platform towards the Titan. With a blood curdling yell, the Monster was upon her, leaping into the burning fray.

Jerek pulled Hermana up from the edge of the cliff as they both watched in awe the battle before them, the very fire islands themselves raising up to do battle with itself, struggled in the power of it’s two masters, the demon raised form the real of torment and the most powerful pyromancer in over a generation.

Waves of glass and fire crashed into walls of obsidian as they battled back and forth, shattering against their equal skills. On and on they fought, the lands around them crumbling into fire as the Torment portal above them struggled and flickered into and out of existence.

With a mighty pillar of stone Eve of Earth crushed the titan into the volcanic floor, its body shattering into sea of ash. But Titans are not easily killed, from the body of the ashes rose the hand and fist of the titan, demonic minions risen from the corpse of their master. Before Eve could recover, the hands of the titan were on her, burning her flesh with pyroclastic hands. Dragging her back to the middle of the lava pool.

Eve and Jerek jumped into action following their stricken friend into the lava, jumping from stone to stone as they crossed the fire pool, using their protective prayers to stave off the heat. There they stood as the titan’s minions held Eve of Earth high above the torment portal, their voices completing the chant their previous from could not finish.

Channeling their powers, Jerek and Hermana released all their holy might upon the waiting fiends, shattering their body and casting their ashes to the wind, never to regain form again.

But as the light from their attacked settled, the deed had already been completed, the portal was gone and so was Eve of Earth. Eve stood before the rift as it began to close before her, tears in her eyes as the darkness once again faded before her and Jerek.

Jerek rested her hand on Hermana’s shoulder as she looked up in disbelief at the new found sky.

“Hermana, I’m so sorry…”

But Hermana was in her own world, trying to figure out the puzzle that lay before her.

“It can’t end like this! It won’t… Alma! She can open it!”

“The Kabal will never let you do it! It’s too dangerous.”

‘They won’t know about it…who’s left to tell them?”

Deep in Arbor Bay lies the refuge of Ventari; an elderly Centaur that watches a strange seed as it slowly grows into maturity. The land there is a sanctuary for those weary of the world, tired of the constant battles that have taken the life of friends and family, a warm light in a dark time.

Amid the sanctuary’s many refugees is Alma, the third sister of Eve. For years she had lived in the jungle, free of the worries of the Kabal’s machinations, tired of the shadow games and deceptions she felt were unneeded to save the world. Long ago did she seal away her ritualist effects, though her eyes still see far beyond that of any mortal. Now she enjoys her time as a farmer, turning swamp to farmland and tending to Ventari’s beacon of hope.

That day Alma tended the crops as she did from day to day, pulling the weeds the filled the rice beds and assisting the elderly with their heavy loads, but on that day something was different.

Rising from the muck, Alma stool silent, the voices of the spirit world speaking to her in ways they haven’t done in years. Something was coming for her. Her daughter Sangre noticed as well, clutching the side of her shawl, watching as the strangers behind them drew closer. Sangre’s eyes were an unnatural amber and her long hair was a yellow/green plant-like color, some say it was a result of being born and raised in the sanctuary, a mark from the strange seed that grew in their midst…a sign of things to come…

Coolly Alma stood in the rays of sunlight that cut through the jungle canopy. With a smile to herself she acknowledged the footsteps growing louder as they made their way through the rice flats.

“Hello Hermana…. Is that Jerek with you?”

The footsteps stopped as Alma turned to meet them, knee deep in the mucky waters of the rice bed. She still had the childlike smile of the youngest sister, impressed that she was still strong with the realms beyond after all these year.

“Hermana!” Sangre yelped as she ran to her aunt, leaping into her arms. Hermana lifted the child in her arms and swung her around as they both laughed in the mud.

Alma smiled as her sister and child played, but the smile soon left when Alma looked into Hermana’s eyes.

Into the night they talked as Jerek waited outside Alma’s hut, keeping watch instinctively even though no threat would be found here. He leaned against the heavy thatch siding, only the faintest of the conversation breaking through, Sangre asleep beside him.

“What you’re asking for is dangerous, I wouldn’t have attempted it even when I was younger and still in practice!”

“If there’s even a chance she’s still alive we have to do something.”

“It’s against everything we’ve been taught Hermana!”

“What does it matter to you? You left the Kabal a long time ago.”

On and on they debated, as Jerek slowly drifted to sleep under the clear night sky, the light form the seedling soothing him to rest.

The next day began with the stab of a sharp stick in his kidney. Jerek was up in a shot, the two sisters standing over him, Sangre holding the branch of a near by tree, Alma looking over her shoulder quizzically.

“You’ve been poking him for the last ten minutes. He start drinking again?”

“When did he stop?” Hermana answered as she took the stick from Sangre, preparing for another poke.

With a snap, Jerek jerked the stick from Hermana’s hand and tossed it into the near by swamp.

“What? You two get tired of fighting with each other?”

“It is more fun fighting with you.” Hermana retorted.

Jerek staggered to his feet, still half asleep, “As it should be, now what’s the plan?”

Alma left Sangre with the other refugees, what would happen next was not for a child to see. From the refuge Alma lead Jerek and Hermana into the jungle, beyond the lands tamed by the Arsua and farther still.

Deep into the Maguma jungle they traveled until they reached a long forgotten temple. Legend tells that the drunken Saul D'Alessio once stumbled into this land, and there he found The Mursaat. While officially retired of her duties as a Ritualist, Alma still came to this temple from time to time studying the carvings and record she could recover, learning the secrets of the Mursaats’ ability to travel between worlds.

As they approached the temple, an arrow shot from the woods, sticking in the arch of the door way. In a flash the trio turned, ready for battle but only finding friends.

“Do have any clue how hard it was to track you guys through this forsaken place?” Andrew Greenwalt said a bow in his hand as he struggled to remove a clinging vine from the collar of his long coat, his brown hair dashed with silver and pulled back by his tattered old bandana.

‘Ha! Ando, you’ve going gray on us!” Jerek chuckled as he pointed to Andrew’s hair.

“Big words coming from you, skunk stripe!”

“Well for me it looks dignified.”

“Keep telling your self that, you’re going to need all the help you can get once the Kabal gets their hands on you.” From behind Andrew the ghostly presence of the man known as Cruel of Angles followed, a great dervish tall and dark, his face obscured by the hood of his robes, his scythe strapped across his back.

“They’re looking every where for you. You have a lot of explaining to do… all of you.” Cruel said as his cold stare moved from Jerek to Hermana.

“This is personal, Cruel.” Hermana retorted. “If they’re searching for us, then you know what happened on the fire islands.”

“And that’s why Andrew pointed the rest of the Kabal into Magus Stones.” Cruel replied, “Between the Krait, Spiders and the Asura blabbing about how great they are they’ll be more than distracted.”

“And our tracks are more than covered now.” Rising Sol said as she appeared from the woods carrying a large branch, wiping away any footprints that her compatriots may have created. She tossed the branch back to the woods, wiping the dirt from her vest made in the far reaches of cantha.

“I guess that makes six of us now.” Hermana said with an approving grin.

“Thank you. All of you.” Alma said, a bit of concern rising in her voice, “Did you get to see Sangre before you followed us?”

“We decided to skirt the village, less questions that way.” Ando said with a smile, “They’ll be more than enough time for get-togethers after we’re done here. So what is this place?”

Alma led the newly formed band into the temple and once again hid her eyes from the world. It was time to see if her studies were of any worth. In the center of the temple she began the ritual, summoning the pinnacle of her spiritual powers. There she focused the power in the very heart of the temple and once again the black gate arose from the ether. Using sight beyond sight, Alma scanned the desolate realms of torment, searching for any sign of her sister. Finally her eyes came to a great tower rising from the wastes, the aura of a thousand souls emanating from the black monolith.

Hermana drew closer to Alma, whispering in her ear to try and not break her concentration.

“What do you see?”

“A black tower, the screams of trapped souls. The remains of the Margonites are trying to break the seal again.”

The name of Abbadon’s former minions caught Jerek’s attention, as he moved closer to the portal.

“Margonites! How many more can there be left?”

“Not many, the race has been dying out since the fall of Mallyx. These are the last of them. They aren’t planning an invasion this time. The monolith, it’s a focus of some sort, a bomb! They’re going to unleash it though a gate, destroy as much as they can before they die.”

“Can’t just go silently into the night, can they?” Cruel said as he raised his hood to get a better look at the portal before them.

“Is there any sign of Earth, Alma?” Hermana said, joining Jerek at the event horizon.

“Still nothing, we’ll have to enter the gate before I can locate her.”

Jerek turned to Hermana, his hand outstretched.

“Then what are we waiting for? Madam?”

Jerek turns his other hand to Alma.

“And you?”

Alma takes Jerek’s hand as Hermana looks at Jerek.

“You sure you’re up for this? You don’t have to come.” Alma asked Jerek.

“You think I’m just going to leave after all this? Besides I get to walk hand in hand with two lovely women, what more can a man ask?”

Jerek turned back to Andrew and Cruel, “You guys can hold hands too, ya know? Makes the landing easier...and it’d be sweet.”

Andrew raises his hand to Cruel, who returns the offer with a look of total disdain.

“Suit yourself.” Andrew replied, shrugging off Cruel’s look.

Sol slung her bow over her back and stepped between the pair, offering her hands to both. “I hope this makes it easier on the both of you...”

“I don’t know. I know where your hands have been for the last few days; jungle’s a nasty place.” Andrew retorted.

With a single step they entered the portal and in a flash they were in another world, thrown to the black earth the dominated the realms of torment, hard and cracked…. And eerily empty. Long ago these lands were the home to the minions of Abbadon, a host of demons so vast that it threatened the entire mortal realm. Margonites, Demons, and the corrupted souls of countless victims all were under the rule of the God of Secrets, but now the Realms of Torment lie empty, a prison built for a creature that no longer exists. What few minions remained have slowly faded away, their final assault under the leader ship of Mallyx the Unyielding a failure.

The fellowship walked across the barren lands, once a hostile territory that they battled through for days unending, now nothing more than a walk in the park. In the distance the tower grew closer, an aurora of spirits leading them ever closer.

“Gods it’s huge!” Cruel remarked in an unusually shocked tone. “A monolith that huge could re-sear Ascalon and turn half the crystal desert to glass!”

“It’ll be Orr all over again.” Andrew said as he surveyed the horizon, looking for any sign of something familiar to wilderness. “By the time they’re through everything’s going to look like this. Makes me wish we brought the rest of the boys along. ”

“Too late for that, “Hermana said as he carried on further into the wasteland. “Well do what we do best, improvise.”

At once they came to a great valley the cliff over looking a pit where the base of the pillar rested. Below them the menacing purple light of the Margonites emanated, though merely a few thousand now, they were still a formidable foe for but five heroes. Aiding the host of Margonites were the remaining titans, even fewer than their masters. The dark song that they heard on the Fire Islands echoed through the crater, the dirge for an entire world.

Suddenly it hit Alma; she fell to the dead earth hands to her temples as he tried to fight off the effects of whatever was upon her. Hermana rushed to her side as Alma raised her hand to the obelisk.

“There! She’s in the tower!”

Raising up, Alma’s pain disappeared as he once became accustomed to the clamor of souls before her, screaming in pain, looking for help, salvation, peace. Hermana stood by her side as Alma surveyed the army before them.

“There’s too many of them.”

“Sister, you forget who you’re dealing with. This is a land of spirits… “

Alma raised her hand and from the dead earth, a host of spirits still uncorrupted by the effects of torment rose to meet her.

“And spirits are my specialty.”

“Are you strong enough for this? How many can you maintain?” Hermana looked with concern at Alma, still struggling to control herself.

“Enough to get our sister free! I’ll lead the charge… you free Eve of Earth.”

Before they could react, the host doubled and before long an army of spirits was at Alma’s side. With a wave of her hands the spirits were put into motion, striking the Margonites by surprise and in that moment a world erupts into chaos.

Hermana shouted orders to the rest of the fellowship, “Sol! Stay with Alma! The rest, we’re going in!”

Into the chaos the four rushed through warring spirits and demons, their focus on the monolith and whatever may get in their way. A group of Margonites try to block their way but Hermana was ready, casting them aside with the wave of her staff. Focusing his strength Jerek aimed his staff at the mob before them, shattering the horde with a bolt of holy light. Cruel slung his Scythe wide tearing a swath though a band of Margonites trying to close in from behind, while Andrew leaped off Cruel’s shoulder, sending a barrage of arrows down into the coming hordes.

They moved with complete unison, like a well honed a machine made from decades of working together. No one faltered; no one was out of step. All moved as one and all fell before them. When scythe reeled from its attack, arrow was there for fill the gap. When the force of the world came down on them, the holy light of protection was there and when the shadows grew fierce, holy wrath rained upon it.

In moments they are on the scaffold of the monolith, the path torn behind them closing as quickly as it was created. On the Scaffold the Margonites fell to Cruel’s scythe like wheat to the shaft, Jerek and Hermana following close behind as Ando help up the rear raining arrow on any who dared to follow them.

Casting the last of the Margonites from the Monolith, Cruel fell back to help Andrew hold the stairway. Jerek and Hermana approached the obelisk’s black walks, coursing with other world power, carved with runes from the past immaterial. As she touched the runes, the power of countless lost souls coursed through her and the voice of her sister echoed in the clamor.

“Earth! She’s…she’s in the Obelisk! Her soul is trapped inside!”

Across the battle field, Alma continues her rituals, spawning as many spirits as she could muster to her cause as the war traveled closer to her. But no matter how many, the growing wave of Margonites moved charged on. In the midst of the spirit hordes stood Sol, shooting flaming arrows in the Margonites, the fires of the slain spreading across the entire host, arrows splintering into flaming shrapnel as Alma bestowed what power should could upon her friend’s weapon.

Suddenly the wall of spirits shattered, the very earth shaking from the force of the blow. Through the smoke and chaos Sol saw it, charging through the fray, larger than any titan she has seen since the days of the Lich. There came the last of the titans, a hulking Armageddon Lord, tossing aside Alma’s defenses as she continued to summon more minions absolved to her world like a woman possessed.

Sol took the only place she could fine to make her stand, between hell and her friend. Arrow after arrow she sent into the body of the beast. Five. Ten. Twenty. The shafts bursting into flames as they hit the molten flesh of the creature, but nothing would abate its maddened charge. With her last arrow Sol sent the shaft true, striking the titan in the eye, lodging the arrow deep into the monsters brain case.

In an instant the creature’s wails ceased as it began to stumble, struggling forward on what little life and strength it had left, lunging for final vengeance at the one who had killed it.

Sol turned back to Alma, the growing shadow of the giant growing closer, behind it the Margonite horde following behind. Sol grabbed Alma up in her arms, feet slipping in the ashy soil, doing what ever she could to escape. But it is too late. Alma turns to look; the weight of the Titan falls against them… The Margonites move in for the final blow.

And in a flash the spirit army was gone.

A pain rushed through Hermana, like a knife in the pit of her stomach. She collapsed to her knees as Jerek caught her.

“It’s Alma…she’s…”

Before she can get herself under control Hermana collapses to her knees, tears in her eyes.

Jerek stood from Hermana’s side and looked down from their vantage point; the armies of the Margonites had returned their focus to the tower. He turned to his friend his mind made up.

“Save your sister…”

“What are you going to do?”

“Something really stupid.”

In a flash Jerek jumped from the scaffold, landing in a crash of holy light among the Margonites, the explosion hurtling the demon bodies though the air, shaking the very earth and taking them by surprise.

“Ando! Cruel! Get your backs into it! We gotta make time!”

Fighting like a mad man Jerek held off the coming horde, what little power he had left, casting down holy fire on his charging, foes. Ando and Cruel joined the fray, cutting a path to Jerek, throwing down minion after minion, their numbers too many to count. They stood in the middle of the fight, the Margonites circling them like a pack of wolves ready for the kill.

“I think we have their attention…” Cruel said as he raised his scythe high into the air, ready to cleave as many bodies in twain as he could before they end came.
“Good, I love being the popular one.” Andrew said with a twisted smile, three arrows cocked in his bow ready to send one final volley into the mob.

As her friends fought below, Hermana arose from the floor, wiping the tears form her eyes. She watched as the Margonites slowly began to over power Jerek as they did Alma. Time was running out. Soon she watched as Cruel and Andrew disappeared in the sea of purple demons. Soon, all would be lost.

Turning to the Obelisk, Hermana carved a rune into the side of the black Monolith; it was a technique she learned from a tome that came into Jerek’s keeping. It had no true point of origin, it was neither holy or elemental or even created from the myriad of races who’s faiths were but a mystery to man. All she knew was that it meant the end.

Hermana struck the mark with the head of her Staff.

Jerek reeled as the Margonites charged in for the kill.

And the world was awash in light.

Jerek lay on the floor, if there was a floor at all. He felt like he was floating, but not. Something wasn’t right… or maybe everything was right and that was the problem. Awaking from his confusion he looks up and found Hermana, Alma and Eve of Earth standing over him. Jerek picked himself and surveyed the land around him, all awash in radiance.

“What happened? What is this place?”

Hermana stepped forward from her sisters and it started to sink in.

“We didn’t make it did we?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that…”

“What did you do?”

“Let’s just say that my sister’s souls are now safe.”

“But what about us?”

“I made a deal, you’ll return to the mortal realm.”

“And you?”

“I have to stay here, to take care of my family…thank you…goodbye.”

Before he could react, Jerek found himself in a field outside of Lion’s Arch as if awoken from a dream. Night had fallen and all was silent. A voice from behind him cut through the night air.

“Jerek! Jerek!”

Jerek snapped around to see Andrew and Sol standing behind him; both pale as if they’ve seen a ghost.

Rising Sol started before Andrew could make a sound. “Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you for weeks! Half the Kabal is looking for you! They think your dead!”


“Yes, again… “Andrew squeezed into Sol’s diatribe.

Jerek stopped for a second, “How’d you find me?”

“Just got into town” Andrew replied, “Merchant said there was someone wondering around outside of town, came out here to make sure it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

Jerek tried to shake away the dreamlike state, but it still hung in his mind. Andrew put his hand on Jerek’s shoulder.

“You alright, mate?”

“Don’t know yet. Do you remember anything about what happened?”

Andrew lowered his hand…the weight of his final memories sitting heavy on his brow.

Sol replied. “I remember Alma falling, the explosion… I remember…washing up on Ventari’s island with Andrew and Cruel. We told Sangre about what happened. She’s still pretty broken up about it. Cruel stayed behind while we went looking for you. Where’s Hermana? Have you seen…?”

Jerek looked back up at the sky, the stars twinkling in the night, the full moon hanging over them.

“She’s where she needs to be…”

“So where to now?” Andrew replied.

“Back to the Sanctuary. Sangre still needs looking after..."

Approximately 225 Years Later

Year 1300 AE:

Taken from her mother's womb and brought to a wealthy stranger's home, Reine entered this world alone. She was born with strange amber eyes, unlike any seen on a human.


Year 1327 AE:

I'm Eve Reine. I grew up among the upper class elite and I value my principles. When I was young, I was blessed by Grenth, the God of death; the year I was blessed I discovered was the same year my birth parents died. My biggest regret is never having met them.

Although my journey has included joining the Vigil and helping them destroy Zhaitan, my motivation and passion lie in discovering who I am and where I come from.



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