Ari was eighteen, born into one of the oldest and most revered bloodlines in the Dravion Kingdom the Seer Family. For generations, ever since the kingdom's founding, the Seers had been known for their prophetic gifts. Every member could glimpse the future, their visions passed down like sacred heirlooms. But Ari was different. He possessed no such gift. He couldn't even perform the simplest ritual of foresight. To his family, he was a failure.
Though they tried to teach him, Ari skipped lessons and wandered off to stir up trouble in the palace gardens. He knew nothing of combat, couldn't wield a sword, and barely knew how to hold a dagger. Weak, awkward, and constantly falling short of expectations, Ari was an outsider among his own kin. His grandfather, the wise and aged Varnis, often comforted him with gentle words: "Child, your gifts will awaken one day. Be patient." But Ari no longer believed him.
The only light in Ari's world was Lira the king's daughter. Graceful, kind, and radiant, Lira met him in secret, and together they wandered through the palace gardens hand in hand. But theirs was a forbidden love. The king had grander plans for his daughter a marriage to a powerful noble or a foreign prince. Certainly not to a Seer, and never to someone as useless as Ari.
One day, a guard discovered them together and reported it to the king. Fury erupted like a storm. "How dare a Seer touch my daughter?!" he roared. "Especially this reckless, worthless boy!" Ari was dragged before the court and publicly shamed. Lira pleaded for mercy, but the king's heart was stone. He banished Ari from the palace and sent a stern warning to the Seer Family.
No one knew it then but this was not the end.
It was only the beginning.
Wise Varnis, Ari's grandfather, was the most powerful and revered seer in the kingdom's history. When the king summoned him to the palace to reveal the kingdom's fate, Varnis obeyed. He entered a deep trance and saw a vision that chilled his soul:
"The kingdom will fall… and you will be the one to destroy it."
Silence fell over the court. The viziers stared in horror. Varnis's prophecies had never failed. But this one—this was a death sentence for the king's pride.
"No!" the king roared, his face twisted in rage. "This old fool lies! Execute him!"
Before anyone could protest, the guards seized Varnis and struck him down where he stood.
But the king's fury wasn't satisfied. Blinded by paranoia, he made a chilling decree:
"The Seer Family is cursed. Erase them from history. Kill them all."
That night, under the king's orders, the entire Seer bloodline was slaughtered. Ari's mother. His father. His siblings. All gone. All but one.
Ari had escaped.
He wasn't at the palace because Varnis had seen it coming. In their final meeting, the old seer had taken his grandson's hands and whispered:
"I see the king killing me… and sentencing our bloodline to death. You must flee, child. You must survive. The 9,000-year-old legend must be fulfilled."
Ari hadn't understood his grandfather's words. But he had obeyed. That night, cloaked in darkness, unaware of the massacre unfolding behind him, Ari fled the palace.
He traveled as far as he could, his heart heavy with confusion and fear. At a humble roadside inn, he overheard whispers from the common folk:
"The Seers have been wiped out."
"Not a single one left."
"The king must be mad… I wonder what that prophecy said."
Ari froze.
His family was gone.
Tears welled up in his eyes as grief and rage consumed him. But there was no time to mourn. The king's soldiers were already tracking him. The order was clear leave no Seer alive.
Ari vanished into the forest, the darkness swallowing him whole.
As Ari fled through the dense woods, a sharp cry echoed behind him. A group of guards had spotted him. Panic surged through his veins, and he ran faster, his legs burning with the effort. But soon, he reached the edge of a cliff.
Desperation gripped him as the guards closed in, their faces twisted with contempt. Following the king's orders, they seized him and, with sneers on their lips, prepared to end his life.
"This useless boy can rot in the Ash Pit!"
With a violent shove, they sent him plummeting into the abyss.
As Ari fell, his grandfather's words rang through his mind:
"Where is the legend he spoke of?! Wasn't our family the 9,000-year-old Seer lineage? The legend… Thanar… He wouldn't let our bloodline end!"
The earth rushed toward him with terrifying speed, and the ground below seemed to reach out, eager to crush him.
Ari struck the hard, jagged rocks of the Ash Pit. The impact was like a thousand knives ripping through his body. His bones shattered, his body crumpled, and the searing pain overwhelmed him. His vision blurred to darkness, and he knewhe was going to die.
But just as his consciousness began to slip away, something strange happened. A thick, gray mist spiraled around him. From within the fog, a figure emerged. Tall, cloaked in black, with a presence that chilled the air.
Thanar. The Herald of the Dead.
His face was pale and translucent, his eyes pitch black, absorbing all light. Two black ravens sat perched on his shoulders, their gaze fixed on Ari with unsettling intensity.
Ari could barely breathe, but Thanar's deep, echoing voice cut through the silence:
"I only come when you are caught between life and death, Ari. Stand up."
Weakly, Ari whispered, his voice barely audible:
"Stand… I can't… My bones are broken… I'm dying…"
Thanar approached, his movements slow, deliberate. He placed a bony hand on Ari's forehead. A shock of coldness spread through his body, like ice creeping into his veins.
"You will be a 'living dead,' Ari. But not yet. Immortality isn't something you possess; it's something you must earn."
Thanar's words echoed in Ari's mind as the pain intensified. He continued, his voice low and filled with ancient power:
"I am here to protect your bloodline. But on this path, you must find your own strength."
The figure of Thanar bent down and, with a touch, mended Ari's shattered bones. But the pain didn't vanish. Ari felt fragile, weakened, the remnants of his injuries still lingering in his body.
"I've saved you from death, but if your strength fails you again, I cannot save you a second time."
With those final words, Thanar's form began to dissolve, the gray mist swirling around him as he vanished into the void.
Ari, exhausted and broken, passed out but he was alive.
When Ari opened his eyes, he found himself lying on a rough, makeshift bed inside a dilapidated hut. The air was thick with the scent of ash, mingled with the faint aroma of herbal tea. Around him, the room was sparse and worn. A cracked wooden table, a few broken chairs, and a dusty mirror hanging crookedly on the wall were the only furnishings. Pain shot through his body as he tried to sit up, the weight of his injuries still very much with him.
From the shadowy corner of the hut, an old, hunched figure approached. The man had long, wispy white whiskers and eyes sharp with age and wisdom. His tattered robe hung loosely on his frail frame, and he leaned heavily on a wooden staff as he moved toward Ari.
The old man gave a faint smile. "You're awake, child… So you've finally arrived. The legend is real."
Ari, still dazed, struggled to process the words. "Where am I? Who are you?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
The man's smile widened slightly. "I'm Zoryn, the wise elder of the Ash Pit. This is where the Dravion Kingdom casts its outcasts. I found you at the bottom of the pit, child. You looked dead… but you're alive."
Zoryn helped Ari to his feet and led him outside, where the oppressive air of the Ash Pit greeted them. As they walked along the narrow, dusty paths, Ari's heart raced with fear. This place was like a living nightmare. Shady figures lurked in every corner. Murderers, traitors, and criminals of every kind wandered the pit, their eyes glinting with malice. Some sharpened rusty blades, while others whispered ominously in the shadows.
Ari froze as his eyes landed on a hulking figure a man with a jagged scar running across his face who was grinning at him with ill intent.
"What's this scrawny kid doing here, Zoryn?" the man growled.
Zoryn didn't flinch. "Just a traveler, Brak. Leave him be."
Ari's nerves were on edge as he turned to Zoryn and whispered urgently, "These people… they're terrifying!"
Zoryn's face hardened. He lowered his voice, his tone dark and warning. "Never speak of the legend or the prophecy, Ari. These people will tear apart anyone they sense is weak. Trust no one, understood?"
Ari nodded, swallowing hard. Fear had a tight grip on him, but he tried to steady himself.
As they passed another corner of the pit, a woman with a cruel, calculating look eyed Ari from the shadows. She smirked, her voice dripping with malice. "Fresh meat, huh? You won't last long."
Ari shuddered, instinctively moving closer to Zoryn. He whispered in panic, "Why did you bring me out here? This place is hell!"
Zoryn's expression softened for a moment, but the weight of his words was heavy. "You need to know this place, child. If you want to survive in the Ash Pit, you must face your fear."
Zoryn led Ari back to the hut, his steps slow and deliberate. Ari stumbled into the chair, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear. The weight of the Ash Pit, the horrors he'd witnessed, and the loss of his family crushed him like a heavy stone. Zoryn placed a cup of herbal tea in front of him, its earthy smell faint but comforting.
"Drink this, it'll calm you," Zoryn said, his voice gentle but firm.
Ari took the cup in his hands, his fingers shaking. He sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him, but it did little to soothe the fire burning inside. Finally, the words burst out of him, desperate and raw. "I want revenge for my family… I want to destroy the king!"
Zoryn's expression darkened, and he inhaled deeply, as though weighing Ari's words carefully. "If you seek revenge, I cannot offer it to you, child," Zoryn said, his voice unwavering. "I am not a creature of darkness. But if you wish to claim the legend, I have tasks for you. Do them, and never question me."
Ari's brow furrowed. "The legend? You mean what my grandfather spoke of?"
Zoryn nodded, his eyes somber. "Yes. Nine thousand years ago, your ancestors foresaw it: 'A living dead will rise, become immortal, and change the kingdom's fate.' You are that child, Ari. But this power is not a gift. It is something you must earn."
Ari shook his head, his voice filled with disbelief. "Me? Power? I'm useless!"
Zoryn's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "Do my tasks, and you'll see."
Ari's mind raced, the weight of Zoryn's words hanging heavy in the air. "What's the first task?" he asked reluctantly.
Zoryn's eyes gleamed with a cold wisdom. "Bring me 30 Demon Wings from the Demon Cave."
Ari stared at him, stunned. "You're joking, right? I can't even hold a sword!"
Zoryn's expression remained unchanged. "Find a way. Don't question it."
Ari spent the next few hours wandering through the Ash Pit, his mind consumed by Zoryn's cryptic words. The pit was a labyrinth of chaos and danger, a place where every soul was either broken or hardened by the world. He passed shadowy figures, their eyes filled with malice, their whispers curling like smoke around him.
He had no choice. If the legend was real, and if he was to survive, he needed to find a way to complete this task. That's when he thought of Kael.
Kael was a figure of legend in the pit—feared, respected, and a former royal assassin. He had been cast into the Ash Pit for defying the king's orders to kill a young prince. Ari knew that Kael might be the only one who could help him survive this deadly mission.
Ari approached Kael's hut, heart pounding in his chest. He knocked on the door, the sound echoing through the stillness.
A gruff voice barked from the other side. "Get lost!"
Summoning his courage, Ari called out, "I'm Ari. Zoryn sent me. I need your help."
There was a long pause, then the door creaked open. Standing in the doorway was Kael tall, muscular, with a scarred face and a blind left eye that seemed to pierce through him. His gaze swept over Ari, appraising him with cold disdain.
"Zoryn's new toy, huh? Runt, what do you want?"
Ari swallowed hard, then explained the task: the Demon Wings. Kael's lips twisted into a cruel smirk.
"Funny. Why shouldn't I just rip you apart instead of helping?" Kael's voice dripped with mockery.
Ari didn't flinch. "Because the kingdom threw you here too. Maybe we can help each other."
Kael paused, considering this for a moment. Then, his smirk faded, replaced by something darker. "Fine. But one day, I'll ask you for a favor. And you won't say no."
He stepped aside, allowing Ari into the hut. Over the next two weeks, Kael trained him relentlessly. Ari learned to wield a dagger, to fight with precision, and to control the terror that constantly threatened to overwhelm him. Kael was brutal in his methods, shouting at Ari to push harder, to not give in to his fear.
"Come on, runt! You planning to die?" Kael would snap whenever Ari hesitated.
Ari's body ached from the grueling training, but he didn't stop. He had no choice but to keep going. Every day, he grew stronger physically and mentally. But deep down, he knew that nothing could prepare him for what lay ahead.
Finally, they reached the Demon Cave a vast, sulfur-scented maw that seemed to exhale a suffocating heat. Kael's voice was low and steady, though there was a hint of warning in his tone.
"Demons are fast, but they're dumb. Trick them, and you'll have the upper hand."
Ari nodded, gripping his dagger tightly, his body tense with anticipation.
Inside the cave, the air was thick and oppressive. Shadows danced along the jagged walls as two massive, winged demons emerged from the darkness. Their venomous claws gleamed in the dim light as they shrieked and lunged at Ari and Kael.
Ari's heart raced, but he stood his ground. He plunged his dagger into the first demon's wing, feeling the cold, unyielding flesh give way. As it fell, Ari's mind was flooded with memories of his family his parents, his siblings ghostly apparitions that appeared before him.
"Why didn't you save us, Ari?" their voices echoed in his mind.
Stunned and confused, Ari dropped his dagger, falling for the demon's trick. The creature lunged, its claws aiming for his throat.
But Kael was faster. With a swift motion, he stabbed the second demon through the heart, then turned on Ari's attacker, driving his blade deep into the beast's side.
Ari collapsed to the ground, choking and vomiting from the rancid blood of the demons. His body trembled, his mind reeling. But together, they gathered the 30 wings.
Back at the hut, Ari dumped the wings in front of Zoryn, his hands shaking from both the physical exertion and the weight of what lay ahead. "What are these for, Elder?" he demanded, his voice tight with frustration.
Zoryn examined the wings closely, his eyes glinting with something ancient and knowing. "For you to earn your immortality, child," he said softly. "Demon Wings are part of an ancient ritual. Your ancestors used them to awaken their seer powers. You have that gift dormant within you, Ari. But you've got a long way to go."
Ari's brows furrowed in confusion. "I'll become a seer?"
Zoryn nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, but it's just the beginning. You saw your family, didn't you? That's the first spark. Immortality is earned with your soul, not just your body. These wings will form a talisman to strengthen you, but your real trials lie ahead."
Ari's heart skipped a beat at the thought of his family. He had seen them heard their voices, felt their presence. But how did this relate to his destiny?
Zoryn carefully laid the wings on the table and unfurled an old leather scroll. The paper was worn, its edges frayed with time. "To craft this talisman, we need one more thing," Zoryn continued, his voice lowering. "A Fire Stone from the Lava Cracks, the most dangerous part of the Ash Pit. Demons aren't the only threat there. The pit's worst outcasts roam that place. You'll go there, Ari. Kael can help, but you must find the stone yourself."
Kael, who had been silently observing, grumbled, "Does this ever end, Elder? I barely saved the runt from the demons!" His voice was thick with irritation.
Zoryn remained calm. "He's a legend, Kael, and you're part of it. Ari's destiny is to escape this pit and reshape the kingdom. But first, he has to find himself."
Ari stood up, feeling the weight of Zoryn's words settle over him. Fear still gnawed at him, but something deeper something stronger pushed him forward. "For Lira… for my family… I won't give up," he said, his voice firm, though his insides trembled with uncertainty.
Kael eyed him for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Alright, runt. But don't drop that dagger again."
Meanwhile, in the heart of the kingdom, Lira, the king's daughter, could barely hold herself together after the loss of Ari. Every day without him felt like a century, a never-ending ache that twisted in her chest. Her mind was consumed with the thought of him his smile, his voice, the way he had looked at her. It was as if the light had gone out of the world.
She couldn't bear it anymore.
"I want to see him one last time," she begged her father, her voice breaking. "Let me at least hold his body. Please."
The king, a man of stone and power, refused at first. "He's gone, Lira. You must accept it."
But the king's heart was not entirely without mercy, and his desire for confirmation led him to relent. "Fine," he muttered, "but only to confirm he is truly dead. I'll assign 80 guards to escort you. Go, but be certain."
And so, Lira set out for the Ash Pit, her heart heavy with grief and dread. The journey would be long, but it was nothing compared to the weight of her loss. The guards marched behind her, their presence a reminder that they were part of a system that had taken Ari from her. She could not allow herself to believe he was truly gone. Not yet.
But in the darkness, a dangerous game was being played. If word spread that Ari was alive, he would face certain death. The king would not allow his enemies to rise again, especially not a living legend like Ari.