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Planet Kaelmane: A small verdant planet with magic permeating the air, home to a grand ivory-walled kingdom that rises majestically atop the hills. Its inhabitants have flourished under the fair and benevolent rule of their king and queen. For over a century, they have known peace ensured by the symbiotic relationship between the shirakara, who offer protection, and the takuman, who reciprocate with their healing powers.

Alas, the peace is shattered once more as the seal finally succumbs to the onslaught of demons. Enormous hellish flames abruptly rise, engulfing the once beautiful nation. The mountain stronghold crumbles to rubble, leaving the people exposed to the cruelty of their enemy.

The wind whispers through the leaves, making them rustle. A clanking sound follows as a young male clad in armor runs past the dark trunks of the trees, a sword hilt with no blade tucked into his belt. His hand holds firmly onto a bearded elder’s as they flee for their lives, a trail of crimson fluid marking their path.

The old man glances at him, concern etched into his wrinkled, timeworn face. “Your Highness...you are bleeding..! W-We need to heal you..!“, he pants heavily, his powder-white hair fluttering in the wind.

His words reach the prince, but he doesn’t stop; they cannot afford to. The galloping of infernal mounts and the snarls of demons grow closer. Behind them, the sky is shrouded in smoke as his kingdom burns. The distant screams of his people—either being slaughtered or taken hostage—pierce the air.

With his father—the king—and his elder brother—the heir to the throne—dead, and the prince—the only remaining royal—gravely wounded, there is no one left to save them.

“We need to keep running, Artello!” he commands, his voice strong despite his labored breathing. “You just hold onto the power stone! That power stone is our last hope!” His light-blue eyes remain fixed on the grassy path ahead. His straight hazelnut-brown hair sways against the rear of his neck, while shorter bangs fall in strands across his forehead.

“But Your Highness...I cannot...run anymore..!“, the old man gasps, struggling to keep pace. “These old legs can only carry me so far!” He coughs slightly, his throat dry. The prince glances back at him, realizing the truth—he is nearly dragging the latter along. With a sigh, the brunette halts, allowing Artello to catch his breath.

The older male looks up at him, breathing heavily, “Permit me to heal you, Your Highness...then you would no longer have to carry me along...”

The prince stares in disbelief at his words before shaking his head, “I can’t just abandon you! You’ve served the royal family for years... Your forefathers, too, served us as the Royal Takuman.” Noticing the latter’s trembling legs, the prince exhales and guides him to sit on a fallen log. He lowers his head, heaving, too old and weary to continue.

The Royal Takuman looks up at the young male and extends his hand, revealing a large orange stone resting on his palm, “Your Highness, you must take this.”

The prince gazes at the power stone, its soft glow emanating from the energy stored within. It holds the ability to provide a continuous flow of power, enhancing one’s capabilities and spells. If only he weren’t wounded and too weak at the moment to channel the stone’s energy into his body, he could have saved hundreds.

He reaches out slowly to take it, but before his fingers grasp the object, a black spike pierces his shoulder. Crying out in pain, the brunette staggers back from the impact. A gasp escapes the old male, his eyes widening in horror. In an instant, they find themselves surrounded by the damned creatures. The male looks around helplessly, his holy oath as a Takuman—of never harming any living creature—now serving as chains binding and preventing him from even defending himself.

The prince hisses in pain as he wrenches the spike out, blood cascading down his armor. He swiftly seizes the sword hilt from his belt. His eyes briefly glow blue as a long, sharp blade materializes on the handle. With a battle cry, he launches into action, defending them. His blade swings with precision, cutting one demon in half. He slashes at the demons before him, then spins on his toes, unleashing a wave of energy that blasts away the vile creatures behind him.

The brunette turns back just in time to witness some foul beasts seizing the aged Takuman. His eyes widen in alarm, and he charges forward, but a sudden kick from behind nearly topples him. The prince struggles to maintain balance, leaving his face vulnerable to their claws.

He squalls in pain before receiving a searing gash on his hand. Sharp hisses escape his lips, tears stinging his eyes as the sword slips from his grasp. As it falls, his armor emits a cobalt glow before vanishing completely.

Seizing the opportunity, the demons pounce on the prince, inflicting grievous wounds. His screams of agony echo through the forest as he collapses onto his chest. With one arm outstretched, he desperately tries to reach his blood-stained weapon. Finally grasping his sword, he is already bleeding profusely.

They grab his arms and force him to her knees. Two infernal mounts gracefully approach the scene. He looks up at the colossal red demon who mounts one of them. The prince feels the hellish heat radiating from his scaly body as he growls, baring his canines. Two enormous horns, along with smaller ones, protrude from his skull, forming a crown atop his massive head. His fiery gaze pierces into the brunette’s crystal-blue, and his triumphant smile ignites a fierce rage within the young male.

“Kryxos..!“, he growls weakly, tasting his own blood from his busted lip.

“Prince Lloria-nen!“, Kryxos greets in a gravelly voice. His hellish mount emits a screech, rearing on its hind legs before settling with a snort.

The lesser demon, settled beside the Demon Lord on another mount, dismounts and approaches. His grimly pale face is revealed, marked by hollow eyes with glowing green orbs and pointed ears that touch the black horns jutting from his forehead. Long, wavy raven locks cascade over the black spikes on his shoulders, matching his wicked smile and sickening demeanor.

“Perfect~ This is how it should be~“, he slurs, fixing his gaze on the prince. “You should kneel before the new ruler of Kaelmane!” he adds and turns to bow before his master, who smirks, gesturing with a commanding hand. The lowly creature bows even deeper before drawing his blade and bringing it dangerously close to the brunette’s neck, “As the servant of my master, I, Styrodox, will end the last of the royal bloodline!”

The elderly male gasps, tightening his grip on the gem. As Styrodox raises his arm, preparing to swing his sword down, the Takuman shouts out his final word. “Laeposei!“, he chants desperately. Just as the blade descends toward the prince’s neck, a portal opens beneath him, swiftly swallowing him and closing immediately.

Styrodox’s eyes widen in shock while the colossal demon roars with fury. He yanks on the leash of his mount, making it turn sharply before drawing his demonic sword. With a swift and merciless stroke, he beheads the frail takuman. The headless body crumples to the ground with a resonant thud, a grim punctuation to the silence that now envelops them.

“Find him! Search the entire planet! He couldn’t have teleported far! I want his skull crushed beneath my foot!!“, he barks, issuing commands to the nether demons, who immediately scatter to search for the prince. Styrodox glances down at the headless body, crouching to inspect it. He growls softly before looking up at his master.

“Master...look...“, he calls out in a low voice, motioning to the old man’s hand from which orange powder trickles. Kryxos fixes his gaze on the crystalline substance, his eyes narrowing before he makes his mount turn back. “Master..?“, the lower demon calls out quickly, his tone laced with fear

“If that is what I believe it is....then he is no longer on Kaelmane...nor will he ever be able to return.“, the new king of Kaelmane declares in his gravelly voice, already losing interest in the hunt. He kicks his ankle into his mount’s thigh, prompting a screech from the beast before it trots back toward the blazing kingdom.

___

Planet Earth

In the star-filled sky, a portal tears open, hurling the royal Highness into the dense woods below. He lands with a thud, a cry of pain escaping his lips despite the armor’s meager protection. Crisp, dried leaves crunch under his palms as he struggles to lift his head, only to realize he isn’t alone.

Through the branches of a smaller tree, two yellow orbs glow ominously. He hears twigs cracking, accompanied by low growling as the black beast emerges. Its coat of coal-black fur glistens in the moonlight, its sharp canines bared. The prince gazes at the animal that displays no signs of friendliness.

His eyes flit to the hilt of his sword lying just beyond his reach, but his condition has deteriorated significantly. With one hand pressed to the gaping wound, he extends the other to grasp the metallic handle but collapses back onto the ground with a pained hiss. Darkness clouds his vision as his eyelids involuntarily shut, and he slips into unconsciousness.

The wolf approaches cautiously, ears perked. It sniffs before nudging his head with its snout. After a glance around, it sits down beside him, keeping watch.

∞∞∞

In an isolated house, nestled far from the bustling city, a young woman in her mid-twenties calls out from the kitchen, “Lucas? Wake up! You’re going to be late for school!” Her light-skinned hand grips the spatula, deftly folding the omelet sizzling in the pan. With a sweep of her other hand, she tucks back her soft, wavy brown hair, revealing her striking metallic-gray eyes.

In the bedroom, a young boy verging on his eighteenth birthday stirs in bed with a soft groan upon hearing his aunt’s call from downstairs. He rubs his eyes with long, light-toned fingers before opening them, revealing his deep, leaden-gray irises that complement his sharp jawline and thick brows. Running his hands through his tousled golden-brown hair, he sits up and stretches his arms.

Slowly rising from the bed, he gazes out the window, through which he can see the woods sprawling across the road. Turning towards the bookshelf opposite his bed, he walks over with a somber aura enveloping him. Amidst his collection of books sits a small, weathered wooden box with faded blue paint. He regards the souvenir with a blend of pain and nostalgia, his fingertips tracing the familiar carvings he touches every morning before opening it.

Inside rests a ring on a velvet pillow, its golden band adorned with a large orange stone. He touches the stone gently, rubbing it as memories of his late father, Zack, flood his mind.

“Lucas? Are you awake?” He hears his aunt call out again, prompting him to close the box and return it to the shelf.

“Yeah, Aunt Jenna! I’m awake.“, he answers back.