Prologue: Demise and Rebirth
In a remote world lived a man who struggled to make life safe for everyone. For many years, he had managed to keep his village safe. Despite the numerous and devastating wounds he had suffered, he had always been able to continue his task, always fighting, always suffering for the good of his people. For many years, the land prospered and became known as a safe and fair place. But as this protector grew old, his surviving enemies plotted to overthrow him, leaving the people at their mercy. One night, they walked into the village and caught him sleeping. Before he could do anything, he found himself being dragged into the muddy streets. As he attempted to gather his strength and fight back, he was impaled with a spear and passed away.
His cowardly enemies set the village on fire and slaughtered the people, now that their protector was gone. In the middle of the screams, they dragged the fallen warrior’s corpse to a nearby swamp and, in a final act of mockery, threw it into its deepest part.
Although he was dead, he could feel everything, he could hear their voices, bragging how they had just destroyed what he had fought to preserve for his whole life. As they walked away, somewere between heaven and hell, his soul burned with an otherworldly fury. The cries of his people echoed in desperation, waiting for a miracle, waiting for their protector to come. Those cries tore him apart. As his despair and rage intensified, he found himself hovering over a lake of fire. When he was about to fall in, a winged shadow carried him to safety.
“Why are you doing this?” He asked. “With my people so brutally slaughtered and my home burned to the ground, nothing binds me to the world of the living.”
The creature’s eyes glowed red, and it spoke with a fiery voice.
“Are you sure that is your wish? What about… revenge?”
He answered with rage and sadness.
“Yes… I would kill those murderers if I had the chance… But I know I’m dead. What can I do?”
The figure spoke and flooded his soul with a fiery blaze, igniting his bloodlust.
“You can go back. I can make it possible. I can send you back and give you the power you need to avenge those you have lost.”
He looked at the creature, suspicious of its motives.
“What do you have to gain with this?”
The creature replied with a rage that could only match his own.
“I too lost everything that mattered to me. But I never had the chance to avenge those I cared for.”
He looked at its eyes, filled with buring rage.
“Then you understand…”
The creature raised its hand.
“Beter than you can imagine. Accept this power and have your revenge. Only then will you find your rest.”
The fallen hero found himself enveloped in a torrent of fire, which made him feel a rush of power he could never have imagined.
The creature then handed him a rune-covered blade, covered in flames.
“This will be the instrument of your vegneace. Make them suffer.”
He grabbed the blade and steeled his resolve.
“I will. They will feel my pain a thousand times!”
The figure looked at him.
“That is what I wanted to hear. Now go.”
The creature raised its hands and he found his spirit drawn back to the world of the living.
At first, he was startled to find himself in the bottom of the swamp, but then he tightened the grip on his blade and jumped out with incredible ease.
As he landed on solid ground, he looked at the blood-red moon, took a deep breath and then set his eyes on the road.
“They will pay… for everything.”
He then pulled the spear from his back and noticed how he felt no pain. As soon as it was removed, the wound burned itself shut.
His first thought was to throw the vile thing at a tree, but then he had a better idea.
“An eye for an eye… The bastard who stuck it here is going to know exactly how it feels like…”
