Once upon a time, in a village far from civilization, there lived a small but resilient community. The village was isolated, its people enduring harsh weather and a dangerous landscape. Though life there had once been peaceful, the relentless storms and hostile environment became too much for the villagers to bear. After years of struggling, they made the difficult decision to leave in search of a safer place to call home.
As the villagers began their journey, they came upon a strange and unsettling sight—two babies, abandoned in the wild, trembling with fear and clearly starving. They had been left here, far from civilization, for days, if not longer. The eldest of the village, upon finding them, knelt down, his heart heavy with pity and concern.
"These children have suffered… we cannot abandon them," he said, his voice filled with resolve.
His daughter, the village's caretaker, was tasked with looking after the boys. She had her hands full, managing the village's rebuilding efforts, helping with crops, and ensuring the safety of the remaining villagers. Now, she was responsible for two more lives.
Years passed, and the children—named Delius and Azyriel—grew quickly. By the time they were five, they were already extraordinary. Delius, the older of the two, was a natural strategist, always thinking three steps ahead. Azyriel, though younger, was bold and fierce, complementing Delius' calm and calculating nature. The brothers were like yin and yang—opposites, yet inseparable, balancing each other perfectly. Alone, they were strong. Together, they were unstoppable.
Not only were they brilliant in their studies, but they were also gifted in martial arts. Every day, the brothers trained relentlessly, no matter the weather. Even when one of them fell ill, the other refused to stop. Their bond was their strength, and neither would let the other fall behind.
But their peaceful life came to an abrupt end one fateful day. The Kingdom of Rosa, a powerful empire located far to the south, on the continent of Novaria, launched a brutal raid on the village. Rosa was known for its wealth and military might, always seeking more land and power. The Kingdom of Okalor, Lazet, and the long-lost Kingdom of Yadar had once shared the continent, but Yadar had been wiped out in a mysterious event long ago. No one knew exactly what had happened to Yadar, but it was said that the last throne followers had perished, and with them, any hope of uncovering their kingdom's secrets.
Though no magic existed in this world, strange and dangerous forces had lingered in the ruins of Yadar. These forces were often spoken of in hushed whispers—cursed spells that could not be explained, powerful artifacts lost to time. But the kingdoms were ever wary of these old, forgotten things. Rosa's raid, it seemed, was fueled by nothing more than greed and a desire for control.
The villagers fought back fiercely, but the invaders were too many. The battle was over in mere hours, and only four survivors remained: Delius, Azyriel, their adoptive mother, and their adoptive father.
As the father fought valiantly to defend his family, he knew that his time was running out. He called out to his wife, his voice strained but determined.
"My dear wife, take them. Take them far to the north. Do not look back. You know where to go… Azyriel, Delius…"
His gaze lingered on them for the last time as he fell, knowing that he had failed to protect them.
"Take this letter," he said weakly, pressing a small envelope into his wife's hands. "It will guarantee your safety. Go, my love… and take them far."
The screams of the children echoed through the chaos, but their mother knew what she had to do. She pressed the letter into Delius' hands, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"Delius, take care of your little brother," she said, her voice shaking with grief.
With no time to waste, she turned to face the invaders, knowing that she wouldn't survive. Her heart broke as she turned her back on her children, but she did so with the knowledge that they would live.
Delius, understanding the gravity of the situation, took Azyriel's hand. They didn't speak; they didn't need to. The two brothers fled into the wilderness, their legs carrying them faster than they ever thought possible. They ran for hours, the weight of their parents' death and the loss of everything they knew pushing them forward. Their clothes were torn, their bodies covered in bruises and scars, but there was no time to rest. If they stopped, they knew it would be the end of them.
Exhausted, hungry, and afraid, they collapsed, unable to go any further. The night was cold, and the stars above seemed to mock them. But deep in their hearts, they knew the truth: They could never go back. The only way forward was through the unknown, and whatever lay ahead was their only hope of survival.
The brothers would face many challenges in the coming years. The world was vast, and filled with dangers both human and supernatural. There were whispers of cursed artifacts, and ancient powers that some believed were lost with the fall of Yadar. But for Delius and Azyriel, none of that mattered right now. What mattered was the survival of the two of them—because they had each other, and that was all they needed.