The Dark Ages, 1220.

This is the year of upheaval and chaos. This is the year that the Temple of Light exposed the brutal truths of the dark magicians’ experiments. This year will be remembered in the history of Athanor forever, yet perhaps no one will remember or even care to find out how much it has changed the fate of Zephys.

For days and weeks and the months to come, the anti dark magic movement swept the whole human civilization like an unstoppable wave whose billow ripped the harmony of the human society apart. Magicians who practiced dark magic, regardless of their age, gender, belief, or status, became outcasts of mankind; they were arrested and put into prisons by priests and clerks who swore loyalty to the Temple of Light, stones were hurled towards them, obscenities were shouted at them.

The dark magicians had fallen from their respected throne, and no one seemed to remember they were the ones who created the devil hunters. All people could see now was the blood, the scream, and the wail that were provoked by the immoral undertaking of the dark magicians.

In consequence of the movement, a new human aristocratic class rose. They alleged themselves to be the believer of the light; and with the support from the Temple, they proclaimed to purify the traditional human aristocratic class that had been closely associated with the dark magicians. The war that was to emerge between the light and the dark, ironically, would turn out to be the war between the beneficiaries of the new aristocratic class and that of the traditional one.

Zephys, as a member of the traditional aristocrats, is only one of the countless victims of this furious and unmerciful war.

Zephys thinks this is the thirteenth day since his mentor left.

He walks alone the grand hallway of his family manor house in a late evening, can’t help but to be reminded that all of his possessions his property, his status, his honor will be questioned and threatened one day, just like what has happened to his parents and his mentor. The former has been captured and locked in a cell for the investigation of the temple priests; as for the latter, even before the arrest warrant for him has been put up on the street of the city, has already vanished into the air. Nobody knows where this dark magician has gone, not even his favorite disciple, Zephys.

Such being the case, Zephys knows full well that it will be just a matter of time when it is his turn.

Of course, he has tried to hold everything together, but he alone with his still immature power could not stand those who invaded and occupied his family territories, nor could he stop the knights from leaving him behind, no matter how faithful they used to be to his family after all, no knight would pledge eternal loyalty to the disciple of a dark magician then. That will just become an indelible stain on their glory as noble knights.

The sun has been engulfed by the horizon, and a dark purple seeps into the hallway, licking every visible part of the curtain, the carpet, the tables and the wooden doors framed by gold. Chilling air passes through the cracks of the windows, which were shattered by mobs of infuriated new aristocrats. Zephys is just about to go back to his room when a side door suddenly opens by itself, while the wind blows the opposite direction.
Brows twisted in confusion, Zephys walks into the room to check that if anyone thief, new aristocrat, it does not matter to him now is there. In the middle of the room, his mentor stands.

“Mentor!” Zephys exclaims in surprise. “Where have you been?”

“I have brought you good news, Zephys.” The man ignores Zephys’ inquiry, and the lightness in his tone does not at all conform to what Zephys has imagined him to be feeling under this pressing situation.

“I would like to introduce you to someone,” he continues. “Someone, who will be able to liberate us and to seek revenge for us…”

“What are you talking about, mentor? No one dares to defy the Temple of Light, even if some do, say the demons, they would never stand a chance!”

“Then perhaps you have never met…”

“Veera.” An unfamiliar voice comes from the shadow in the corner of the room. Zephys turns into that direction, from which a beautiful demon walks out with an elegant posture and smiles at him. This woman is courteous, charming, and delightful; she is not like any demon he has ever known.

“What an honor to finally meet you, lord Zephys.” Veera bows at him, her voice tender and sweet.

When the path to light is blocked, the window to darkness has secretly opened without a sound.