In a world suffocating under darkness, where mercy fades and pain reigns as law… rises an entity that knows no compassion.
Iskara… daughter of will, bearer of the spark of death, playing the Melody of Fate, stands on the edge of the abyss, determined to proclaim destiny.
Every step, every breath, every drop of blood is a vow of vengeance… and the birth of the Harbinger of Ruin.
Chapter Nine: The Melody of Fate
The scene begins with Iskara standing, the blood dried upon her face like a mask that cannot be removed.
The wind passes over her, yet she does not feel it.
Suddenly… her father's voice echoes inside her head, deep and decisive:
"Every time you use the Eye of Truth… the darkness comes closer to you.
And now, you must complete your destined fate.
Go to the abyss… and eliminate the Lord of Darkness."
The voice fell silent, but its echo kept pressing on her heart.
Her eyes ignited.
As if embers had been placed inside them.
She raised her hand to ease the pain, but the burning only worsened, and her vision began to crack like shattered glass.
She breathed…
A heavy, broken breath, as if it refused to enter her lungs.
Yet… she moved.
One step.
Then another.
Every step pulled something out of her soul.
After a distance, she saw a small pond glowing with a gentle light in the middle of the dark path.
She knelt beside it, wanting only a drop of water.
But when she looked at her reflection…
She froze.
That was not the Iskara she knew.
The eyes were empty, without mercy, without hesitation.
A face that did not know compassion… nor remembered how a smile once looked.
She kept staring at herself for a long time, as if she were seeing a stranger.
Rain began to fall.
Cold drops slid over her wounds, over the dried blood, over the exhaustion that cannot be seen.
As if the sky was trying to wash something that cannot be washed.
She stood slowly, and walked beneath the rain.
The trees surrounded her in silence, witnesses to the birth of a new entity.
An entity that no longer asks why, but when.
A child raised on pain,
who grew up searching for warmth that never came,
for a hand to hold… and found none.
But one thing remained with her.
Will.
And will… does not die.
She said in a tired yet proud voice:
"Even if I walk on the edge of a sword… I will rise to the summit."
She took out the violin.
She drew the bow across the strings.
And was born…
The Melody of Fate
Silence settled… and in the ashes, a dwelling.
And the universe around me… a prayer, a hush.
They thought I had drowned in bewilderment,
but they never knew… in death, I grew.
O blood of the human… rage within my veins.
O fire of Iblis… ignite my burns.
O light of the sky… be my lightning and my dawn.
I am the daughter of opposites… and I declare my right.
I am the resurrection… risen from my wood.
I play death… on strings of my anger.
Neither light contains me… nor darkness is my creed.
I am Iskara… an earthquake, a wind, and a blaze.
Hear the Melody of Fate… for it is the last.
The angel has died… and destiny is born.
The music ended.
The echo spread between the trees, then fell into the depth of the abyss before her.
She arrived.
She looked at the darkness waiting for her, and smiled a cold smile that made the air flee from around her.
And she said:
"A land scented with the comfort of death… suitable for your graves."
The wind trembled.
The edges shivered.
And in that moment…
The symbol of ruin was born.
The abyss before her is no longer just emptiness… but the beginning of a path that will test her strength and will.
A deep shadow looms on the horizon, and a call from the heart of greed watches her every step.
Iskara smiles a smile known only to those who defy darkness… and steps toward destiny, where the grand game is about to begin.