Moraliska

Everything burned before the earth could make a sound.

Before the trees screamed, before the sky fell… the wind was the first to change.

The winds of Moraliska — they had always danced like a mother singing to her child.

But that night, they screamed.

And in their scream was something unfamiliar… something ancient. Broken.

The sky split open with fractures of black light.

From them, they fell.

Creatures with no names… and no mercy.

The night was torn apart, and the sound of magic filled with terror.

Amidst the chaos…

Stood Leora.

Her feet pressed against the trembling soil, her hands bleeding with a power she didn't recognize.

A voice whispered in her mind:

"Arcalium…"

But it was too late.

The storm had begun, and no one would hear the screaming on a fading island.

Seven hours earlier…

On the hilltop, Leora sat.

Her hair flowed down her shoulders like soft strands of night,

and her eyes followed the birds dancing in the sky.

The island slumbered to the rhythm of nature.

The ocean breeze, the laughter of children, the scent of warm bread—

no one knew it would all turn to ash by nightfall.

Leora didn't know…

That the wind dancing with her today

would scream with her tomorrow.

Leora didn't know…

That the wind dancing with her today

would scream with her tomorrow.

— "I knew I'd find you here."

She turned, unsurprised.

It was him.

Riven.

He walked toward her with calm steps, an apple in hand, and golden eyes reflecting moonlight.

But behind that gaze… there was something else.

A quiet tension. A feeling without a name.

— "The wind's strange today," he said, sitting beside her. "Like it's trying to say something."

She stayed silent.

Raised her hand, letting the breeze slip through her fingers as if it were trying to escape.

— "Maybe… it's trying to warn us?" she whispered.

— "Or say goodbye."

He said it softly, then took a bite of his apple.

Leora looked at him but didn't laugh. Didn't reply.

And for the first time… the silence between them wasn't comforting.

Then he said:

— "Wanna race to the big tree over there?"

Leora slowly turned to him, a small smile forming on her face:

— "I don't race cheaters."

He laughed, raising his eyebrows with fake shock:

— "Me? A cheater?! That's slander!"

— "Oh really? Like that one time you 'slipped' right before I said go?"

Riven burst into laughter.

— "That was tactical testing! Military reflex training!"

— "Military training, huh?" she said as she suddenly jumped up and started running.

— "Hey!! You're the real cheater!"

He shouted as he dashed after her, their laughter echoing across the hill—

a sound the earth would remember when silence fell at night.

Leora reached the big tree first, panting and laughing, her hand resting on the bark:

— "I won!"

She turned to see Riven arriving seconds behind her.

— "Cheat!"

He picked up a leaf and threw it at her like a childish dart of revenge.

She giggled, raising her hands in mock victory, then—

— "Leoooorraaaa!"

A gentle feminine voice called from afar, warm with motherly affection.

Leora turned quickly and raised her voice:

— "Coming!"

She looked at Riven and smiled:

— "My mom's calling. Time for dinner."

He nodded, stepping back:

— "Go before the soup gets cold and the queen gets mad."

She laughed, running back home.

And Riven?

He stood there a moment longer, eyes lifted to the sky—

the same blue as Leora's eyes.

There was something in the wind.

Something he didn't know… but could feel.

Then he turned and walked home too.

In those moments…

everything was still normal.

Leora and Riven returned to their families,

laughter filling the air like the island itself was embracing them.

But the wind…

the wind remembered.

As if it alone knew—

that this night would be the last of its kind.

At Leora's home…

The house was warm—not from the fire in the hearth,

but from the laughter echoing through its corners.

Her father sat at the table, fiddling with something in his tired hands,

while her mother laid fresh bread on the plates, humming a tune no one else could hear.

Leora burst in, her eyes glowing with joy.

— "You're late," her mother said gently, brushing Leora's head.

"I told you not to wander off without telling me."

Leora lowered her gaze, murmuring:

— "I was playing with Riven… we raced."

Her mother laughed softly and sat beside her, fingers running through her hair like she was smoothing the world around them.

— "Leora…

You're our hope—your father's and mine.

Everything in this home… beats for you."

Leora looked into her mother's eyes.

She didn't fully understand the depth of those words,

but warmth wrapped around her heart, and she silently promised to remember them forever.

Dinner ended, the dishes standing as quiet witnesses to their warmth.

In the kitchen, Leora stood on tiptoe at the sink, holding a sponge too big for her hand,

scrubbing a dish with intense focus like it was a grand quest.

— "Mom?"

she asked softly, trying to tackle a stubborn stain.

— "Yes, my love?"

— "If I were a fairy, do you think I could make the dishes wash themselves?"

She poked the plate with her finger, pretending to cast a spell.

Her mom laughed from across the kitchen:

— "If you were a fairy, I'd ask you to clean the whole house by magic!"

Leora puffed up proudly:

— "I don't need to be a fairy. I'm training. Maybe I'll be a witch someday!"

Then she leaned closer, whispering like it was a secret:

— "Riven says he can hear the wind sometimes…

But I hear it whisper.

It says weird things."

Her mother paused for a moment, watching her.

She smiled, walked over, and helped Leora lift a cup too high for her reach.

— "Tomorrow, dream sweet dreams.

And after tomorrow… maybe you'll become the greatest witch of all, Leora."

At dawn…

Everything was still.

The island slept under a blanket of mist.

Stars faded from the sky,

leaving a pale, cold gray behind.

But the wind…

was no longer the same.

It slipped through the trees with roughness,

slapping branches instead of dancing with them,

whispering in tongues no one had ever heard.

It wasn't just breeze.

It was grief.

As if the earth itself had started to mourn.

In their homes, some people shifted in their sleep, sensing something wrong—

but they returned to their dreams.

Except for Leora.

She awoke with a jolt.

Sat up, breath shallow.

Something clutched her chest tight.

She stood slowly, walked to the window…

Opened it.

And froze.

The sky—

wasn't the sky she knew.

There was a rip in the horizon.

A crack of glowing, eerie light.

Like someone had sliced the heavens open with a blade.

And then—

A scream.

Then another—louder, sharper—tearing the dawn in half.

A roar followed.

Then… a distant explosion.

The ground shook.

Windows rattled.

And in that moment…

Moraliska awoke to the first breath of hell.