Valzar Saga

A heavy silence blanketed the world—a funerary silence, broken only by the winds that roamed the darkened continents like a wanderer in a land of the dead. Nothing living remained but fine ash, reduced to a barren dust that had become fertilizer for an earth that had long since exhaled its final breath and ceased to drink in the light of the sun. Those winds carried with them the echoes of unfulfilled wishes and dreams that had evaporated before they could be realized, drifting across the ruins of silent cities until they reached their final destination: the grand fortress.

The winds slipped through cracks in the crumbling walls, leaving behind a faint wail as they settled within the great hall. The shattered ceiling allowed the stars to cast patches of pale light upon the fractured floor, as though the world were trying to console itself with whatever dim glow it had left.

Suddenly, the stillness was broken by the whisper of a heavy door opening. A new gust of air joined the hall’s mournful breath, followed by the measured echo of footsteps emerging slowly from the darkness toward the pool of light spilling from above. The winds circled the approaching figure, brushing against his cloak as if searching for traces of life in this void—but the moment the man stepped into the center of the hall, the winds surged violently, recoiling from him in a furious gust, as though they had realized they had welcomed the wrong presence.

Dust cleared from the floor, revealing a complex geometric circle, inscribed with interwoven symbols and precise cosmic laws that defied randomness. At its center stood the dark figure. His features were obscured, shadows coiling around him like a living shroud, rejecting the touch of light as though he were something alien to nature itself. His presence was heavy—ominous—as if it embodied the very darkness of this world.

He slowly raised his head toward the sky, his eyes half-closed like someone searching for faces long gone, then released a breath weighted with the bitterness of ages and whispered softly:

“Are you sure… that we will succeed this time?”

From the opposing darkness came the echo of solid, skeletal footsteps. The lich emerged, cloaked in tattered robes etched with forgotten symbols, holding an ancient tome in one hand and fragments of black stones in the other—stones that pulsed faintly, like small hearts struggling to stay alive.

He stopped at the edge of the circle, and the symbols drawn in black-stone ash beneath the dark man’s feet began to glow with subtle frequencies. This was not primitive magic—it was forbidden science that mimicked the pulse of the cosmos.

The lich spoke in a deep voice, fractured like shattering glass:

“Yes… we must succeed. There is no one left but us, and we have committed enough sins to learn. Come closer… focus your entire being on the stone, and leave the circle to me.”

Their energies merged within the void, and the shards of black stone began to levitate, spinning faster and faster above them. As the light intensified to a blinding degree, the lich said in a terrifyingly calm tone:

“And now… the final touch. Close your eyes, my friend… do not hesitate.”

Trusting his only companion, the man closed his eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming surge of power. He felt the universe tremble beneath his feet, the stones whirling like a miniature storm. He whispered with a certainty he had never known before:

“I can feel it… it’s working! We will succeed this time, my friend!”

He opened his eyes with a smile—but it froze upon his lips.

The lich stood outside the radiant circle.

Certainty turned into pure terror, and he cried out, his voice trembling:

“What are you doing? Get inside the circle—quickly… time is running out!”

The lich remained silent. Though he had no face to reveal emotion, the shadow saw what felt like a faint smile—one that pierced his heart and soul, as though his friend were bidding him farewell, content with his fate.

Tears welled in his eyes as the bitter truth struck him:

“Fool… is there no other way?”

“I told you… we must succeed,” the lich said, his voice carrying the solemnity of death. “And for that to happen, only one must pass through with all the remaining energy. Save the world, hero… do not repeat our mistakes… farewell.”

The lich unleashed all his remaining power into the center. A storm of light and darkness swallowed the dark man’s body, his final scream tearing through the silence of the fortress—before everything dissolved into absolute white.

The blinding white of the explosion transformed into a burning ray of sunlight streaming through a half-covered window. The sound of cosmic rupture became a violent knocking on a wooden door, accompanied by a sharp female voice:

“Jack! Wake up or I’ll leave you to face your punishment alone… you’re going to be late for school!”

Jack jolted upright in bed, gasping for air like a drowning man who had just surfaced. He stared at his hands in shock, then ran his fingers across his face, finding it damp with tears.

“Why am I crying?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It was… just a dream.”

He sat at the edge of the bed, trying to shake off the lingering cold of the fortress still clinging to his bones. He went to wash his face, and as he slowly raised his head toward the mirror—

Behind his reflection stood a dense black shadow, its eyes like dying embers.

Jack stumbled back with a muffled cry and spun around—no one.

He turned back to the mirror—nothing.

“What’s happening to me?” he muttered, trying to steady his racing heart. “It’s just a nightmare… just a nightmare.”

“Jaaack! Did you die in there?” a familiar voice shouted from beneath the window. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late!”

“Max!” Jack exhaled in relief. Max’s voice felt like an anchor pulling him back into reality.

He dressed quickly, grabbed his bag, and before leaving, cast one last glance at the mirror—it reflected nothing but his ordinary room.

Outside, Max stood waiting with his usual irritated expression.

“Finally! Why are you so late? Do you want us to get punished again because of you? Why are you staring at me like that? And why are you smiling like an idiot?”

Jack simply looked at his friend in silence as he scolded him. Strangely, he felt an overwhelming sense of comfort—as if the fear from the dream and the shadow in the mirror had vanished the moment he saw Max and heard his usual complaints.

“It’s nothing, man… sorry. What do you say we race to school?”

“What? Have you lost your mind?” Max clicked his tongue mockingly. “Fine—let’s race, you lazy idiot!”

In class, the atmosphere was unsettlingly quiet. Jack sat by the window, watching the shadows cast by sunlight across the floor, while Max burned off his energy doodling on the edge of his notebook.

The bell rang, and the teacher entered briskly, followed by a girl with short black hair brushing her shoulders.

“Students, welcome your new classmate, Nora.”

Jack didn’t look up. He was absentmindedly sketching circular symbols on a blank sheet of paper. But the moment her footsteps drew near, his hand froze.

Slowly, he lifted his head—and their eyes met.

In that instant, reality slipped from beneath his feet.

The noise vanished. The classroom walls dissolved.

In their place came a shocking vision:

He saw himself kneeling on blood-soaked ground, holding Nora’s lifeless body in his arms. Her glassy eyes stared at him with the stillness of death, while his hands were drenched in her warm blood.

The vision shattered like a scream in the wind.

The classroom returned.

Nora stood before him, calm, watching him with suspicion.

Jack was drenched in sweat, his eyes wide with terror and disbelief.

“Jack! Are you alright?” the teacher asked, concerned.

He shot to his feet, his chair crashing loudly against the desk.

“I’m sorry… I need… I need water.”

He rushed out without waiting for a reply. Inside the restroom, he turned the faucet to full force and began scrubbing his hands violently—as if trying to peel away the memory itself.

He stared into the mirror. His reflection trembled.

“...I saw her for the first time… so how did I see her die?” he whispered, water dripping from his face. “What’s happening to me?”

He had no answer.

But he realized one thing—

That nightmare was not just a dream…

It was the beginning of something he could not escape.