Author's Preface
The Wanderer stared up at the towering horror for a second. Then, an unhinged laugh tore from his throat. "You praise me?! You praise me for unleashing a monster upon this world?!"
"It is inevitable for the cycles to continue," the ancient entity’s voice resonated inside his mind. "And for the people of this land to meet their true gods."
The Wanderer gasped. "The God of Light..."
"As for your reward," the figure said, leveling his massive palm toward the speck of a man below.
"I don't want anything from your filthy-"
A beam of blinding golden light erupted from the entity's hand, swallowing the Wanderer whole.
He threw his hands up in a desperate bid to shield his face, but the light burned through his flesh, through his eyelids, filling his pupils. A scream echoed across the ruined plaza as his vision dissolved into white.
The golden titan smiled, its chin tentacles writhing in satisfaction. "You are to gather the survivors and rebuild Valoria. Build it high. Grow more powerful. Breed... and, of course, oppose all mages in a world crawling with them."
The beam abruptly cut off.
The Wanderer collapsed onto his hands and knees, his breath coming in gasps.
"This will be the last time you ever see the light," the entity echoed, its voice drifting from everywhere and nowhere at once. "A small price to pay. Songs will be written in your honor... every soul in this realm will know the grand savior of Valoria."
The two golden figures raised their hands, their combined voices shattering the clouds above as they proclaimed:
"Rise, blind King! Rise, Altharion Dragonborn!"
The Wanderer’s body felt light, inhumanly light, as if the mortal weakness of his bones had been rewritten. He pushed himself up, forcing his head toward the sky to face the horrors.
He looked up.
...Nothing.
Only absolute darkness. His sight was gone.
The second titan spoke. "You will endure for hundreds of years. Nothing in this realm can grant you death, only the stones beneath your feet. Our commands are absolute, carved into your essence. Obeying is not optional."
The first one continued. "No one shall know of the truth... until the next apocalypse. Until the next Altharion."
"You fucking sick creatures!" the Wanderer roared into the blackness.
Instantly, his chest constricted like a steel vise. A surge of agony ripped through every part of his body, dropping him to his knees as his muscles seized in horrific spasms.
"Resistance is futile," the golden titan's voice reverberated from above. "Accept your fate, child."
A rift tore through the atmospheric veil, and the divine horrors began their ascension.
"Never...!" he rasped through gritted teeth, his thrashing body refusing to submit.
One of the tentacled heads turned back, its crimson eyes burning through the gloom. "Your loved ones might disagree."
The rift snapped shut and silence descended upon the land.
The Wanderer lay on his back in the dirt, gasping for air in desperation.
"Are you alright, my Lord?" a voice called out nearby.
The Wanderer sat up abruptly, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Zeek? Is that... you?"
A hand gripped his palm, pulling him upward.
"I'm glad you made it," the Wanderer breathed, staggering as he found his footing. "I haven't seen you since the assault."
Zeek let out a laugh. "I didn't take you for a humorist, my King! I've been at your side the entire time."
The Wanderer frowned. "My King?"
Suddenly, light began to bleed back into his shattered eyes. The total darkness began to recede, colors and sharp contours rushing back into focus.
He blinked rapidly. Staring back at him was Zeek, standing tall and whole.
The Wanderer touched his own face, looking down at his hands, then at the scenery around them. "I can see… but how"
Zeek beamed, bowing his head. "What a glorious day! Praise be to the Light!"
The Wanderer’s expression twisted into rage as he glared at the captain. "Don't you dare mention those bastard-"
The moment the words left his lips, his body collapsed in on itself. His muscles seized, throwing him back onto the rubble.
Zeek dropped to his knees, panic in his eyes. "My Lord! What’s wrong?!"
The Wanderer lay there, taking deep breaths as he forced the burning agony to subside. "I can't even curse them..." he choked out.
As the pain stopped, his eyes locked onto Zeek’s lower body. "Your legs... how did you get your legs back?"
Zeek blinked, looking down at his boots in confusion for a brief second before chuckling again. "Ah, my King, I don't think I'll ever get used to your jokes."
The Wanderer slowly forced himself to his feet, his mind reeling. "I don't understand..."
"Thank the Light you are alive, my Lord," a soft voice called out from behind him.
The Wanderer’s head snapped around. Every muscle in his body locked in place. His face went pale, as if he were staring at a ghost.
Standing just a few paces away, bathed in the soft glow of the morning, was a woman stepping forward with a gentle smile.
"Is everything alright?" she asked softly.
It was Serenya.
Tears instantly welled in the Wanderer's eyes. The entire world seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving only her.
He took a slow step toward her, his mind screaming in denial. Slowly, he reached out a shaking hand and brushed his fingertips across her cheek.
"It's you… It's really you..."
He threw his arms around her, pulling her against his chest as hot tears spilled down his face, burying his head in her shoulder.
"I missed you so much..."
Serenya pushed him away gently, a nervous smile on her lips. "It has been long couple of days, my King."
The Wanderer stumbled back, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I am not your King... I am the Wanderer."
"Did that monstrous beast strike your head a bit too hard, Altharion?"
Valak’s voice cut through the air. The Wanderer whipped around, his eye widening as he took in the crowd assembling around him.
There stood Valak, arms crossed, wearing polished Valorian armor. Behind him, Sunny and Kuma walked side-by-side, chatting casually. Harith was gently guiding Helen by the hand over a pile of broken stone. Even Kaelin stood among the crowd, looking at him.
Every single friend he had lost was standing right there. Whole. Alive.
The world spun before his eyes.
"Am I... dreaming?" he muttered.
A few hours later, as night fell, the survivors erected a crude encampment atop the rubble of the city.
Inside a canvas tent, the Wanderer paced back and forth, muttering to himself like a madman.
"I was taught from day one that magic cannot cross the boundary of death. It cannot revive the fallen," he whispered, running a hand through his hair. "So how is everyone standing here? How are they breathing?"
He turned around. "No... it isn't everyone. If it were total resurrection, these ruins would be choked with millions of dead Valorians. So why them? Was resurrecting the dead beyond human capabilities, leading mortals to deem it impossible? Or did those tentacle heads reach into the abyss and pull them back?"
He stopped in his tracks. "Let's assume they revived my friends to tempt me, why give me back my sight? They explicitly said losing my vision was the price for my rewritten body..." He touched his chest. "Could it be the Spiral...?"
"Did you call for me, my King?"
Zeek stood at the entrance of the tent, peering in.
The Wanderer sighed. "Stop calling me that. It feels wrong."
Zeek frowned, adjusting his posture. "Ah. Forgive me. How can I assist you, Altharion?"
"Not that either!" the Wanderer snapped.
Zeek tilted his head, confused by his leader's erratic behavior.
The Wanderer pinched the bridge of his nose. "Never mind. Just... step inside. I need you to tell me everything that happened over the past few days. From your perspective."
Zeek crossed his arms, studying him closely. "I know the battle was brutal, but... did the combat somehow affect your memory?"
The Wanderer stared at him. "Let's assume it did."
Zeek shrugged, stepping further into the tent. "Alright. If it helps clear your mind, I'll tell you everything from the start."
For the next hour, Zeek recounted the narrative of the war:
The rebel forces, led by Hidan and Seth, mounted a desperate assault against the gates of Valoria.
Once inside, the rebels executed an ancient ritual, sacrificing thousands of Valorian citizens to summon a primordial terror from the depths of the earth.
The released beast laid waste to the capital, spreading its toxic black rain before roaming across Avaris, annihilating every settlement in its path.
Desperate to save his kingdom, King Altharion fell to his knees and prayed continuously to the God of Light for seven days and seven nights, begging for the divine strength to protect his people.
Hearing his pure devotion, the God of Light answered, bestowing upon Altharion a holy power strong enough to slay the calamity.
Commanding his people to stay safely outside the perimeter, Altharion engaged the monster alone, clashing with the monster for three agonizing days and nights until he finally struck it down.
The Wanderer listened in horrifying silence as Zeek finished the tale with a proud nod.
The Wanderer caught his head in his hands. "So... I’m the grand hero who saved the world now?"
"The one and only," Zeek replied, a proud grin spreading across his face. "Altharion Dragonborn."
The Wanderer raised his head, piercing Zeek with a furious glare that made the captain’s smile evaporate.
Zeek took a slow step backward, raising his hands defensively. "Sorry, sorry! Look, I don't know why you've suddenly come to hate your own name, but... you need to get some rest. Valoria won't rebuild itself."
"I will not obey those damned things!" the Wanderer snarled.
Instantly, the invisible chains carved into his soul snapped taut. A violent tremor rocked his chest once more.
But this time… the pain was bearable.