Reo's Story - The Beginning I

After spending the whole day discussing in the church, the night began to fall. They stepped out of the church, the evening atmosphere growing more tense in Elenmoor. Rikka and Reo walked side by side, their shadows cast on the deserted road by the moonlight. However, the tranquility was disrupted when Noa suddenly called out to Reo from a distance.

"Reo!" Noa shouted loudly, her steps heavy as she approached them. "We need to train again sometime soon! I want to see your true potential!"

Reo smiled, though a bit startled by the sudden call. "I'll have to find some free time for that..."

Rikka looked at Noa gently, aware of her strong enthusiasm and occasional overzealousness. "Noa," she said with a voice full of care, "I know training is important, but don't push Reo too hard. He said he can't use magic!"

Noa paused, but accepted Rikka's advice with a calmer demeanor. "He did say that. But I can feel it. There's a great potential within him. If you can show it to me, I won't keep insisting on doing magic training."

"Ah... is that so?" replied Reo, unsure of how to react to Noa's assumption about him.

***

Reo and Rikka walked through the quiet night, their steps accompanied by the rustling of leaves and the gentle song of the wind. The moonlight cast its serene glow, illuminating their path toward the mansion. As Rikka entered the mansion, Reo continued on his way towards the cottage.

His steps moved steadily under the shadow of the towering trees lining the road. In his heart, there was a light unease, like the soft whisper of the night breeze. He was on edge, ready to hear the whispers that might resurface. But the silence of the night was broken only by the gentle rustle of the wind among the leaves, a comforting sound.

Reo quickened his pace, trying to dispel the tension that prickled at the back of his neck. Yet, the undisturbed silence hinted that perhaps the strange voices were merely figments of his imagination.

Before long, he reached the cottage with determined steps, following the faint glow of light that illuminated the wooden corridors. He carefully opened the door, stepping into the quiet room. A small lamp casts a soft light, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

He tossed his cloak onto the bed and sat in the chair at the small desk in the corner of the room. The lamp's light illuminated his face, filled with a sense of calm and tranquility after a long day. On the desk lay an open book, waiting to be explored. It was a history book of the world, filled with stories of ancient civilizations, forgotten legends, and mysteries of the past. Each page was rich with thrilling tales, depicting humanity's great achievements alongside the tragedies that accompanied them.

The writings etched within revealed the strengths and weaknesses of humanity, as well as the long journey of civilization from the past to the present. There were sections recounting powerful kingdoms and epic battles, as well as stories of scientific discoveries and astonishing explorations.

Is this the kind of book Rikka likes to read?

With keen interest, Reo delved into the pages, forgetting everything outside in the profound quiet of the night. However, his heart began to race as his eyes fell on a section discussing the notorious villain, Vargaloz. The pages lay open before him, revealing the tale of the dark and mysterious figure.

Reo sat upright in the wooden chair, his eyes fixed on the book lying open on his lap. The soft light from the desk lamp illuminated his face, casting dancing shadows around him. The gentle rustling of the leaves outside blended with the whispering wind, creating a natural backdrop for the tranquil night.

But amidst the calm, the mysterious whispers continued to haunt him. They sounded like the distant roar of the ocean, flowing into his mind with an undeniable force. Reo allowed himself to be immersed in the flow of those whispers, trying to grasp every word and hidden meaning.

With a sharp gaze, he looked out the window, where the darkness of the night spread like a black cloak over the world outside.

***

Seventy years ago in Hydale…

In a remote corner of the city lay a small settlement inhabited by impoverished residents. The rickety buildings, potholed streets, and fragmented lives painted a picture of hardship that adorned every corner of the town.

From dawn till dusk, the townspeople were trapped in an unending cycle of poverty. They were accustomed to scarcity, with stomachs often growling from hunger due to lack of food, with worn and fragile clothing because they couldn't afford new ones, and with cracked and leaking houses they were unable to repair.

Amidst the narrow street of the village market stood a small bakery bustling with busy customers. There, Vargaloz, a seven-year-old boy, stood with hungry eyes gazing at the bakery window. His stomach growled, voicing its desire for the tempting bread inside.

He looked left and right, searching for an opportunity to grab the bread unnoticed. He reached into his pocket and found only a few small coins, not enough to buy the bread. With tear-filled eyes, he stared longingly at the bread.

Without thinking twice, Var reached his hand towards the bakery window, intending to take a piece of bread. But before he could touch it, the rough hand of a shopkeeper appeared from behind the door.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?!" the shopkeeper shouted sternly, catching Var red-handed.

Var was startled and panicked, his hand still outstretched in the air. He stood frozen, his face pale, trapped in a difficult situation. His entire body felt cold. He knew what usually happened after someone was caught stealing in that village.

Without mercy, the bakery shopkeeper threw the small Var onto the dirty, rocky ground, enough to injure the boy. But it didn't stop there. The shopkeeper called other villagers, and they began to hit, kick, and shout at the small Var, who could only curl up on the ground to protect himself from the unavoidable attacks of the surrounding adults.

This daily routine, this empty cycle for Var, was the result of a long journey that had taken him from the pinnacle of glory to the depths of despair. Initially, Var's life was the perfect image of grandeur and prosperity. He came from a respected and admired family in the city of Hydale, a place where magical power was the heart of everything. His family was one of the few noble families with access to magical power far beyond the abilities of ordinary humans. They were keepers of secrets, unrivaled leaders, and guardians of legendary ancient traditions.

However, amidst this grandeur, Var was born, a child who cast a somber light on his family's pride. Despite being expected to inherit the family's magical talents, Var could not control even a sliver of the magic that flowed through his veins. To him, magic was like water, always finding a way to slip through his trembling, powerless fingers. Every effort he made to demonstrate his talent ended in painful failure, adding to the shame and despair that haunted his every step.

In a family that prized magical excellence, Var's inability became a source of unspoken shame and disappointment. He became a symbol of unwanted weakness, a shadow obscuring the greatness of his family name. Yet, behind the tightly drawn curtains of honor, Var was a child full of unreachable dreams and aspirations. He wanted to prove that even without magic, he still had value and unlimited potential.

Finally, after years of struggling with the shadows of failure and rejection, Var found himself cast out, forgotten by the family he once loved and respected. His life, once dazzling and vibrant, had now become a dark shadow trapped in the coils of an unforgiving fate.

Despite his best efforts to train his magic, Var felt like a wanderer in a desert, thirsty for a drop of water, always searching but never finding. Every attempt he made seemed futile, unable to meet the standards and expectations set by his parents. For him, failure was a faithful companion, always waiting at the threshold.

One day, an unexpected miracle occurred. Var's parents were blessed with the birth of a baby, who was considered a divine gift to the family. The joy and radiance on their faces could not be concealed. However, with the arrival of the newborn, who was welcomed with boundless joy, Var's inadequacy became even more pronounced. His younger sibling grew and developed rapidly, displaying talents and abilities that far surpassed anything Var had ever shown.

The growth of his sibling became a painful mirror for Var. The older his sibling grew, the clearer the comparison between the two of them became. Meanwhile, Var remained trapped in a labyrinth of unending failure and incapacity.

Then, like a twist in a tragedy, Var faced the pinnacle of his suffering. His parents, who had once regarded him as a burden and a failure, now found new pride in their talented younger child. Abandoned and marginalized, Var was sold into slavery, crushed by the cruelty and betrayal of those who were supposed to protect him.

"You ungrateful child! A slave doesn't deserve to eat!" one of the villagers shouted, their voice dripping with anger, like a cruel spotlight exposing Var's weaknesses.

"Beat him! This kid is just dirtying our streets!" another yelled, and the crowd's agreement echoed through the air as they closed in on Var, who lay weakly on the ground.

Kicks rained down on Var's frail body, but the pain had long since faded, replaced by an unavoidable numbness. Each blow was a cry of hatred, deepening the wounds in his heart.

Amidst the violence pounding on Var's body, suddenly, like a flash of light in the darkness, a bright beam split the crowd of ferocious villagers. The brilliant light was so captivating, that it hinted at the presence of something extraordinary.

And there, at the brink of despair and destruction, a radiant portal opened before them. It was a gate of wonder, emanating golden beams, inviting them into a new world they had never imagined before.

Through the shimmering portal, the most revered figure, the Dragon God Hominus, emerged from eternity for the first time before the eyes of humans. His majestic face and magnificent presence left the villagers stunned, unable to move in the presence of the divine figure who had saved Var from certain ruin.