Countless ages ago, humanity lived under the blessing of magic. Sorcerers and sorceresses walked among humans, using their powers to light hearth fires, calm storms, and heal impossible wounds. For all, magic was hope, shelter, and life.
Over time, some sorcerers formed bonds with people without magic, founding families that bridged both worlds. It was in these homes, half human, half sorcerer, where the laughter of children mingled with the murmur of ancient spells, and where love blurred the line between the mystical and the mundane.
But greed and darkness always lurk where light blooms. From the shadows, a group of power-hungry mages conspired to devour the energy of their fellow creatures.
The night was tinged with absolute blackness, broken only by flashes of magic that illuminated the battlefield like lightning in a raging storm.
"Surrender, or you'll lose more than just your magic... you'll lose your life!" The dark wizard's voice boomed like thunder, as his staff, dripping with dark blood and curses, rose into the sky, summoning shadows that seemed to devour the light itself.
In front of him, a young sorcerer with flashing eyes and flowing hair clenched his fists, his energy crackling around his body like a storm about to break.
"I will never give in to monsters like you!" he roared, summoning lightning bolts that tore through the night, exploding in a spectacle of light and sound that reverberated to the foundations of the world.
The ground shook beneath the combatants' feet; betrayal had ignited a war of no return. Entire forests burned, villages were razed, and kingdoms crumbled into darkness.
"Protect the seal! Don't let them cross this line!" a sorceress shouted, her torn robes flapping in the wind like a banner of resistance. Her eyes blazed with unquenchable fire as she raised her hands, summoning walls of dancing flame that roared with fury, stemming the dark tide that threatened to engulf everything.
Behind her, soldiers and mages lined up, their gazes filled with fear and courage, aware that this moment would define the fate of their world.
And in the gloom, a shadow moved stealthily, an enigma whose power no one yet understood... but whose destiny was intertwined with the war that devoured the soul of humanity.
Battle after battle, the echo of fallen sorcerers resonated in the icy wind. Whispers of despair mingled with the clamor of war. The light slowly faded, taking hope with it.
Atop a mountain whipped by thunderstorms and the deafening roars of summoned dragons, the air vibrated with an almost palpable tension. Black clouds swirled, punctuated by flashes of lightning that seemed to tattoo the sky with living fire.
The Supreme Sage, an imposing figure wrapped in a battle-torn robe, stood solemnly. His silver hair danced in the wind, his eyes flashing a mixture of sadness and unwavering resolve. He held his staff tightly, its tip burning with intense flames, as if the sun itself had descended into his hands.
"By the blood shed!" he roared, his voice vibrating like thunder, reverberating in every corner of the valley.
"To the forgotten light!" she whispered fervently, a tear sliding down her cheek, reflecting the glow of the flames.
"I give my life to seal the eternal darkness..." his final cry echoed in the void, heavy with sacrifice.
With a slow but decisive gesture, he traced an ancient symbol in the air, his fingers trembling under the weight of supreme magic. Then, he uttered a spell so ancient and powerful that the firmament seemed to tear into a thousand fragments of light and shadow.
A gale of pure energy exploded from the staff, engulfing mages and beasts in a blinding whirlwind. The sound was deafening, a collision of worlds in agony.
The last ray of magic, a golden spark dancing in the darkness, illuminated the land once more, like a last gasp before oblivion.
And then, a deathly silence.
The magic disappeared from the world, locked away along with those who carried it in an invisible but eternal seal.
The war ceased.
The world began to heal, slowly, like a wounded body seeking the light of dawn.
But the memories of the sorcerers, their sacrifices and their names, faded into the dust of time, like a distant echo that only the wind dares to murmur.
But some whisper that the seal isn't eternal. That one day, the forgotten magic will reawaken... And when it does, blood-stained history will repeat itself.
More than a thousand years have passed since that war that devoured kingdoms and buried magic under a veil of silence. With each generation, the names of the great sorcerers were erased from memory, the ancient grimoires crumbled to ash, and the truth was buried beneath cities of concrete and steel.
Today, no one knows. No one believes. No one asks. Humans hurry along avenues lit by thousands of lights, check notifications on their phones, sigh in their locked offices, dream of progress... without imagining that, beneath their feet and within their blood, something sleeps beyond their control.
For them, magic is just a myth, a story to calm children when the storm rages.
"Once upon a time... there was a world of sorcerers..." the grandparents whisper, laughing, unaware of how real it all was. No one sees that, every full moon, in a forgotten corner, a strange glow emerges beneath the skin of a select few. No one feels the vibration of something struggling to awaken.
But that calm is a lie. In the shadows of the cities, in the restless dreams of young people who don't understand their own existence, the sealed magic begins to break its chains. A slight tremor in a glass of water. An impossible reflection in a broken mirror. A whisper that pierces the mind of someone who, until yesterday, believed themselves normal.
And when it awakens... it won't ask permission. It will return with fury, reminding humanity that there are forces that even a thousand years of forgetting cannot tame.
Thus, in an era that believes it has buried all fantasy, the magic inherited by the descendants of the ancient sorcerers prepares to open its eyes...
...and with it, a history destined to repeat itself.
— End of Chapter —
📖 Author's Comment ✒️
Every word written is a mark on someone's soul.If this chapter touched your heart, then it wasn't in vain.
Thank you for joining me once again.
See you in the next chapter...
— 夢と雨と言葉の仙人
— Yume to ame to kotoba no sennin
— The Hermit of Dreams, Rain, and Words
— The Great Master Makoto-sama