A World Divided
In the fractured realm of Sevaria, existence was shaped by three spheres of power:
The Celestial Sphere: The divine dominion of radiant gods and beings of cosmic light.
The Ethereal Sphere: A mystical plane where energies of creation and destruction flowed endlessly.
The Mortal Sphere: A harsh, unforgiving land where humanity's fate was determined by Astral Veils, mystical markings bestowed at birth or during the Awakening Rite at age six.
Those blessed with Veil Marks wielded extraordinary abilities. They were the Veilborn, revered as leaders, warriors, and legends. But the Markless were outcasts, doomed to a life of ridicule and suffering, left to rot in the shadows of power.
This was the world into which Kriel was born a world where strength ruled and weakness was a death sentence.
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The Forsaken Child – Age 6
Ethren Village, a cold, windswept settlement carved into the jagged cliffs of Sevaria, was ruled by Veilborn might. It was here that Kriel first learned cruelty, not from fate, but from humanity itself.
The Awakening Rite was meant to be a day of glory. Children of age gathered beneath the towering Elder Stone, awaiting their turn to stand before the village Elder. With a ceremonial invocation, the Elder Priest would awaken their dormant Astral Veils, marking them as Veilborn.
When Kriel's turn came, the villagers whispered with scorn:
"The cursed boy... The frail one..."
Even at six, Kriel's thin frame and hollow-eyed stare made him seem more like a ghost than a child. Yet his expression was cold, devoid of fear or hope. He approached the altar with unyielding resolve, ignoring the sneers and cruel chuckles.
The Elder Priest's face twisted with contempt. Raising his Astral Staff, he summoned a radiant pillar of Celestial Fire, meant to awaken any dormant power within Kriel.
But the flames dissipated into nothing.
No Veil Mark appeared on Kriel's skin.
Silence fell. Then came the jeers socking, pitiless, echoing like thunder through the icy winds.
"Markless! Useless! Cursed!"
The Elder's voice cut through the noise like a dagger. "Unworthy. Begone."
Kriel staggered, not from pain but from the sheer hatred etched into every gaze fixed upon him. The people turned their backs, mocking his very existence.
But Kriel didn't cry. His gaze remained cold, only his dark, calculating eyes burning with something far more dangerous than sadness pure, unrelenting malice.
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A Life of Suffering – Age 10
The years that followed were merciless. Kriel became a pariah, surviving on scraps and cunning. His Markless status made him less than human a living target for the Veilborn bullies who saw him as nothing but prey.
Despite his frail frame, Kriel learned to adapt. He studied his enemies from the shadows silent, watchful, calculating. Every encounter hardened his heart until there was nothing left but hatred.
One night, a group of Veilborn bullies cornered him in a dark alley. Flames and lightning flickered across their skin as they sneered, reveling in their power.
"Still crawling around, Markless?" the leader sneered, conjuring a crackling fireball.
Kriel's gaze locked onto his cold, measuring, unfazed. His lips curled into a mocking smirk.
"You talk too much."
The Veilborn lunged, his fist blazing with flame but Kriel sidestepped with fluid precision, tripping the boy with a brutal efficiency that spoke of practice and precision.
The others hesitated, seeing something wrong in Kriel's gaze something dark and predatory. For the first time, they felt fear.
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The Encounter – Age 16
At sixteen, Kriel's heart was a black void a hollow vessel filled only with seething ambition and hatred. The Astral Academy Trials were approaching, a competition where Veilborn fought for dominance and prestige. Power ruled in Sevaria, and Kriel intended to seize it no matter the cost.
On the eve of the Trials, the air turned deathly cold. Shadows writhed unnaturally, weaving through the darkened village streets like living specters. A towering cloaked figure emerged from the swirling darkness, its face obscured beneath a hood that seemed to devour light.
"Kriel…" it hissed, its voice like shattered stone. "You persist… against fate... against destiny..."
The figure lunged, clawed hands reaching to claim his soul, certain of its victory. It was an ancient being, forged from darkness and malice, seeking to consume what it thought was a helpless mortal.
But something stirred deep within Kriel dark, untamed, and indomitable. His hatred ignited, fueled by willpower that defied mortal understanding.
With feral intensity, Kriel seized the figure's arm, his grip unbreakable despite his frail appearance. Dark power surged between them, crackling like an unstoppable storm.
The ancient being reeled, its eyes widening in horrified realization.
"W-What… are you?!"
Kriel's voice was calm, cold, dripping with icy certainty:
"Your greatest mistake."
With merciless intent, Kriel twisted the dark power into himself, bending it to his will not as a vessel, but as its master. The ancient being howled, realizing too late that it had awakened something far worse than it could comprehend.
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Incarnation of Malice
By dawn, Kriel stood alone, unchanged thin, hollow-eyed, and seemingly powerless. Yet within him, a dark flame burned brighter than ever, carefully hidden beneath his frail exterior.
He walked back toward the village, unnoticed, his gaze burning with cold calculation. He had taken the first step toward true power, cloaked in deception and malice.
The world saw only a helpless outcast… until it was far too late.