Moraliska

The wind howled with a ferocity the island had never known.

Leora stood by her window, her small hands trembling as her wide eyes stared into the storm.

The village, once warm and alive, now looked haunted.

Flashes of crimson lit up the sky, and distant screams tore through the silence of the night.

"Grandma…?" she whispered.

"Where did everyone go…?"

Her eyes searched the darkness desperately—

For her friends, the kind neighbor who waved at her every morning, any familiar face.

But there was only chaos… and terror.

Suddenly—

"Leora!!"

Two voices, soaked in both fear and love, pierced through the storm.

Her parents.

She spun around, and at the sight of them, her tears burst free.

"Mama… Papa…!" she cried, her voice shaking. "I'm… I'm scared!"

Her mother reached out to her, eyes brimming with tears.

"Come, sweetheart… quickly!"

But the wind was no longer just wind.

Something strange moved between the gusts, something ancient—

As if the sky itself had decided to split open.

Her parents rushed her through the chaos, toward a fortified shelter hidden deep in the heart of the island, where the children of the village were being gathered.

The place was crowded with small faces—friends, classmates—none of whom she expected to meet under such dark skies.

Her eyes scanned the crowd frantically.

She was looking for one face. One name.

"Riven… Riven!"

Her voice cracked as she called, every cry a faint light in the darkness.

But silence was all that answered.

Was he here? Was he safe?

Her heart pounded, caught between dread… and fragile hope.

Then—amidst the noise, the sobs, and the broken breaths—a voice rang out:

"Leora!!"

She turned sharply.

It was him. Riven.

Running toward her, his eyes wide with relief and fear.

"Leora… I'm here! Are we… are we going to die?"

He panted, his voice nearly breaking.

She looked at him, then grabbed his hand tightly—

As if holding on to him might keep the world from falling apart.

Before she could answer, her parents appeared at the shelter's entrance.

Her mother knelt, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks, and whispered:

"Leora… my darling, listen carefully."

Her father spoke, steady despite the storm in his eyes:

"You must stay here. For your sake… and for theirs.

You're different, Leora.

One day… you will become the greatest sorceress Moraliska has ever known."

Her lips quivered.

She asked with a breaking voice:

"Mama… Papa… where are you going?

Don't leave me here alone… please…"

They embraced her tightly.

A moment that held the weight of a lifetime in its warmth and sorrow.

Then her father turned to Riven:

"Take care of her, boy."

And they stepped back…

Heavy steps, as if the earth itself resisted their parting.

Leora stood frozen—Riven's hand in hers.

In her eyes… the beginning of a tale.

And the end of innocence.

⸻

While the children remained in the shelter, Leora's parents moved swiftly through the island's darkened paths, guided by instinct and dread.

Her mother clutched her wand tightly, following the trail of the strange energy that had invaded their home.

Her father murmured, watching the shifting sky:

"This… this isn't an outside attack.

It's too sudden. Too precise."

They reached an ancient arcane ward—one of the protective circles that had shielded Moraliska for centuries.

What they saw chilled them to the bone.

The protective seal… was cracked.

From the inside.

Her mother touched the fractured glyph, her voice barely a whisper, heavy with disbelief:

"Someone from within… let them in."

Her husband met her eyes, and in them burned both sorrow and fury:

"Betrayal has taken root… and its poison is already spreading."

A nearby battlefield bore its mark—ashes, blood, and an air that felt strangled.

Her mother looked to the horizon.

"We have to go back. Now."

Her father gripped his blade tightly.

"We gather the others. No hesitation."

She nodded, though fear lingered in her eyes.

"If the barrier's truly broken… the children aren't safe."

They ran.

The wind tore at their cloaks, and the air began to echo with unfamiliar sounds—

Sounds that did not belong to this world.

As they neared the shelter, the sky began to rip open,

A dark flash shot through the clouds, followed by a thunderous roar that shook the ground.

Her father's voice rang out:

"Leora!"

⸻

In the old courtyard behind the village, the islanders had gathered around the children.

Tension hung in the air like smoke. Whispers flickered. Eyes brimmed with fear.

Arso—Leora's father—climbed atop a rock, his voice cutting through the uncertainty:

"Listen closely. The arcane shield protecting Moraliska has been breached.

And worse—it came from inside."

A stunned silence fell.

Only the wind, rustling through the trees, dared to speak.

He continued:

"We don't yet know who's behind this. But a dark energy is spreading… fast. It's heading toward the Eastern Forest.

We need to split up. Some of us will guard this shelter. Others will search for the source."

A woman cried out:

"Do we… fight them ourselves?! They're not… human!"

Leora's mother stepped forward, calm and unwavering:

"If not us… then who?

We must hold the line.

Long enough to keep the children safe."

⸻

Armed with courage and grim resolve, the island's defenders set out.

Swords in hand, magic in their veins, they advanced toward the shadowed forest.

The wind moaned… as if warning them of something ancient that had awakened.

Arso raised his hand and pointed to a narrow stone path leading into the forest depths:

"The source is there…

In the Dead Heart of the island."

One of the sorcerers whispered:

"That place has been sealed for generations… no one dares enter it."

Arso answered, eyes locked on the devouring shadows:

"Something has opened it.

Something far beyond anything we've known."

His wife stepped beside him and cast a faint ward of protection over the group.

"We must be cautious," she said.

"This darkness… it knows us. Each one of us."

The deeper they went, the more the whispers came.

Unfamiliar. Incomprehensible.

But bone-deep chilling.

Then—

The ground shuddered beneath their feet.

The soil cracked… and a purple light began to pulse—like the heartbeat of something evil.

A hushed voice muttered:

"This isn't dark magic…

This is a summoning."

Arso drew his sword, voice low:

"Hold your ground.

No one runs."

The earth groaned again.

The mist thickened—then twisted, swirled… weaving something unseen.

Suddenly—

One vortex split open.

A tall figure stepped out.

Shadow for a body.

Shifting form.

As if made from living smoke.

Others followed.

Elongated limbs.

Glowing violet eyes.

And voices—

Cracked sobs and eerie laughter, at once.

A mage stumbled back.

"These… these aren't from our world."

A woman screamed:

"The Zeirath…

The legends were true!"

Arso stood firm:

"Defensive formation!

Keep them away from the village!"

Another sorcerer shouted as he prepared his spell:

"This isn't a normal battle, Commander…

This is the beginning of the invasion."

One of the creatures shrieked—

A piercing sound that tore through minds—

Then charged, gliding unnaturally through the air.

Arso readied his blade:

"Then let them learn—

Moraliska does not fall easily."

⸻

Amidst the battle, cries and flames swirled like a storm—

And suddenly, the mist tore open.

A figure emerged from behind the Zeirath.

Tall.

Cloaked in black.

Featureless.

Breathless.

But his presence alone—

Was enough to freeze the blood.

He raised his head slightly,

Stood firm between fire and ruin,

And spoke—

His voice rough, deep… as if dug up from beneath the earth itself:

"People of Moraliska…

Prepare yourselves.

For today… is your end."

The world held its breath.

Even time seemed to stop.

Then the ground trembled once more,

And from behind him—

More creatures spilled forth.

Slithering, crawling, writhing.

 Born from darkness itself.

One of the guardians stepped closer to Leora's mother and whispered:

"His energy… it's not natural. It feels ancient… and twisted."

But before he could finish—

A violent surge of beasts exploded from beneath the cloaked figure, flooding toward them like a dark tide.

Tonight was no ordinary night…

Doom had finally knocked on Moraliska's door.

⸻

Elsewhere in the village, in one of the small shelters where the children were gathered—

Silence hung heavy.

Shaky breaths.

Wide, fearful eyes darting around the dim room, as if waiting for the walls to collapse.

Then—

A strange sound echoed behind the wooden wall.

A low, guttural growl.

Followed by a slow, scraping claw across the door.

And then—

BOOM!

The door burst open.

There it stood—

A Zeirath.

But not like any they'd ever seen.

Its body was covered in long, jagged thorns.

It crawled on all fours.

Its glowing amber eyes locked on them, unblinking.

It let out a sound that was neither a scream nor a whisper… but something hauntingly in between.

Then it began to move—slowly—toward them.

Children screamed.

Some cried, others scrambled behind crates and corners.

But Leora stood in the center.

Her heart pounding so fiercely, she thought it might tear free from her chest.

Yet her feet… wouldn't move.

She whispered to herself:

"What is that…? What is that thing?"

Then she called out, her voice trembling:

"Get the children back! Move them away!"

It was the first time she had seen a creature like this—

Not just a Zeirath…

But something that felt wrong to even exist.

The creature advanced, and fear spread through the shelter like a choking fog.

Leora didn't budge.

Her eyes were fixed.

Her hands shook, but her stance held.

Suddenly—

Riven grabbed her arm, panic in his voice:

"Leora! Come on! We have to run!"

But she didn't answer right away.

Behind her, the cries of the children grew louder.

And within her mind, the voices of her parents echoed—

Her mother's soft words as she stroked her hair:

"Be strong, Leora… don't be afraid."

Her father's steady voice, his hand on her shoulder:

"Take care of them…

And become the greatest sorceress Moraliska has ever known."

Her gaze hardened. She pulled her hand free from Riven's grasp.

Turning to him, her voice firm—so unlike the fear that had gripped her moments before—she said:

"I'm not running, Riven… I will protect them all."

Then she stepped forward.

Her body trembled, but her eyes shone with something new—

Something like determination… or the birth of a power yet untamed.

Tears streamed down her face, fear clawed at her edges, but still she gripped a scorched staff taken from the guardian's hearth.

She stood before the children, voice breaking but loud:

"Stay back! Stay away, monster!"

She slammed the staff hard against the ground, then swung it toward the creeping Zeirath—its shadowy, terrifying form inching closer.

The creature staggered back slightly but did not retreat completely.

Suddenly, one of the children behind her hurled a small stone.

Then another… and another.

They screamed with fear, yet resisted.

"Go back! Get away from here!"

Pebbles pelted the beast's thorned body—some barely scratching it—but the sound, combined with the flickering fire in Leora's hand, made it hesitate.

Leora, her eyes swimming with tears, screamed again:

"Don't you dare touch them! Take your hands off them!"

Before she could step back—

Riven suddenly stood before her, his face still pale with fear but burning with an unusual resolve for someone so young.

He raised his trembling hand and croaked:

"I will protect Leora… and everyone else!"

Without hesitation, he traced a simple gesture—one his father had taught him years ago.

"Noris Nova!"

From his palm sprang a small golden arrow that flew straight toward the Zeirath—

Piercing its glowing amber eye.

The monster's roar shattered the air—

A terrifying bellow that shook the ground.

It did not fall.

Instead, it thrashed violently, desperate to reach the children.

Leora shouted:

"Don't retreat!"

She raised her staff once more, its tip blazing bright.

Suddenly—the other children began to mimic her, attempting spells they barely understood.

Primitive. Simple. But fueled by hope.

"Hah!" "Take this!" "Go away, thing!"

Sparks flew, tiny whirlwinds danced, small orbs of fire flickered…

They struck the Zeirath from every side, thrashing wildly and confused.

Then—

It exploded!

The crash echoed through the shelter, ash swirling in the air around them.

In a corner of the shelter, away from the noise,

A small girl sat beneath a wooden bench,

Hugging her knees, crying silently—

As if the whole world had shrunk down to her little heart.

Leora approached slowly and knelt before her,

With Riven following, still glowing with the flicker of courage in his eyes.

Leora spoke softly, like a sea breeze:

"Don't be afraid… it's over now."

She leaned closer and reached out her hand to the girl,

Riven did the same, saying gently:

"I'm Riven."

Leora smiled warmly and added,

"And I'm Leora."

The little girl slowly lifted her head—

Wide eyes shimmering with tears,

Her tangled hair hiding half her face.

Then, in a small voice clear as a star's trail across the night sky, she whispered:

"Mia… I'm Mia."

As their small hands met,

Something unseen stirred—

As if the three hearts had silently sworn a vow:

Never to abandon one another… ever.

⸻

[In the old city square — Moraliska]

The strange Zeirath creatures surged from the shadows—

Breath like ash, eyes glowing with betrayal.

The islanders lined up, defensive formations led by the elders,

Each summoning the last reserves of their power.

Arso, Leora's father, stood at the front, shouting with a booming voice:

"Make them regret ever stepping foot on our island!"

Spells flew—

Balls of flame, arrows of light, walls of wind—

But the Zeirath… were no ordinary beasts.

They twisted and recoiled… then struck like mad scorpions!

And then—

From the smoke emerged that mysterious figure.

Cloaked in dark robes that fluttered though the wind stood still,

His face hidden completely—only two eyes burned with demonic fire.

He raised his hand, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade:

"People of Moraliska…"

"Prepare yourselves… today is your doom."

Some warriors froze in place,

Something in his tone made the very air grow heavy.

But Arso roared back, defiant:

"Who are you? Show yourself from behind the shadows if you dare!"

The dark figure suddenly lifted his hand,

A sound like a cosmic explosion tore through the sky,

And three massive spells shot out like deadly stars—

Each carrying enough force to erase an entire village.

Leora's mother stepped forward, steady, her cloak billowing,

Her eyes suddenly glowing red like burning embers.

She shouted in a deep voice, echoing with ancient mystery:

"Fall back… now!"

Raising her hands, she traced an ancient spell in the air:

"Virahil…"

A giant magical shield appeared, shimmering blue and cracked with light,

Blocking the first attack… and the second…

But with the third,

The shield shattered with a thunderous crack, as if the sky itself split open,

And Leora's mother was thrown backward, crashing hard, dust swirling around her.

Behind Arso, the sorcerers began to fall one by one,

Their bodies collapsing, magic fading like extinguished flames.

Arso stood stunned, eyes fixed on the devastation:

"What kind of sorcery is this…?! This is not of our world…"

His wounded wife crawled to him,

Her face scratched and bruised, but her eyes still blazing with resolve.

She placed her hand on his and said:

"My love… hold my hand."

"I will protect Moraliska… even if it costs me my life."

Silence fell.

He gripped her hand tightly, tears filling his eyes.

At that moment—

The ground beneath them began to glow with ancient runes,

Rituals not performed for centuries,

And from their breaths rose a rare power…

An ancient force known as the "Light of Concord."

Something that appears only between two hearts—

When one chooses to sacrifice for the other.

Leora's mother knelt, blood streaming from her forehead, yet her eyes still shone fiercely…

Beside her stood Arso, clutching her hand tightly,

A fire blazing in his gaze—only seen in those who've vowed to fight till the end.

Suddenly—

A roar rose among the ranks of sorcerers.

The leader of one squad lifted his tattered banner and shouted:

"You will not face them alone!"

One by one, the sorcerers stepped forward…

Row after row,

Each raising a staff, pressing a hand to the earth, whispering their own spell.

"For Moraliska!"

"For our children!"

"For those who've fallen!"

Their voices merged,

And the lights of their magic shot skyward like exploding stars.

The air ignited with pure energy—

The power of unity.

A massive magical barrier formed,

A weave of spells from dozens of sorcerers,

Shimmering blue, green, and violet,

Wrapping the village like a living shield pulsing with will.

Another explosion shook the earth—

But the barrier held firm, and everyone shouted to the enemy:

"You will not take this land… You will not steal Moraliska from us!"

⸻

Leora ran through the smoke,

Breaths ragged, heart pounding like thunder—

"Father… Mother… Please, wait for me."

Riven chased behind her, calling her name, but she did not answer.

They arrived… at the unforgettable scene.

Amidst a blaze-lit square,

Her parents fought side by side, bodies battered and bleeding…

Opposite them stood the strange man,

A black aura swirling like a beast with a thousand mouths.

Leora whispered in shock:

"They're still fighting…"

But before she could finish—

The strange man unleashed a dark curse,

Arrows of shadow flew like lightning,

Piercing her parents' bodies simultaneously.

Leora's scream tore through the sky:

"Nooooooo!!!"

She dropped to her knees and tried to rush forward,

But Riven gripped her shoulders tightly, his voice trembling:

"Impossible… This… My mother… My father…"

Tears fell from his eyes for the first time since the war began.

⸻

On the ground, where her parents lay fallen—

Leora's father gripped her mother's hand,

Whispering with a broken voice:

"We're not lost yet…"

They reached out, holding Arso's hand, who barely stood.

"Leora… I trust you."

He closed his eyes…

Muttering a forbidden incantation.

The earth beneath them split open—

A vast, glowing red magic circle appeared,

An aura of power shaking the soil and tearing the sky.

The strange man's eyes widened:

"Impossible… What is this power?!"

Arso shouted with every ounce of strength left:

"Let the darkness burn!"

And in that moment—

An unbearable radiance exploded from the circle's center.

A white-golden light pierced the strange man's body,

Ascending to the heavens…

Illuminating the entire island.

It was like a sunrise… in the heart of hell.

⸻

[Silence. Then shock.]

Leora and Riven stood frozen,

Breaths caught, eyes wide.

Suddenly—

A strange circle appeared beneath their feet, glowing with runes unlike anything seen before.

Leora screamed:

"Riven… what is that?!"

Riven grabbed her fast:

"Hold on to me…!"

And suddenly… they vanished.

As if the earth itself swallowed them whole.