Atop the mountain, howling wind sent cold shivers through a lean, pale figure in a cloak. He walked up the final stairs that led to a small temple.
The man took a cautious step into the temple, lit with candles flickering with low ambers. Five other hooded figures waited for his arrival.
"You are late, Lord Cassiel," one of the hooded figures remarked from beside a wooden pillar. Veyra.
"The ritual shall not wait any further," a deeper voice echoed from the other side. Xin Lao.
"True. Thus we achieve great power beyond mere mortal comprehension," another female voice joined in, much older than the latter. Mother Cecile.
After years of acquiring knowledge, gathering resources, and learning forgotten languages, the day had finally come when they would achieve what they sought.
Lord Cassiel nodded. "We shall carry on with the arrangements then."
Minutes later, candles were arranged in a tightly spaced circle. The monks knelt within this circle, and in front of each of them was a single candle.
The moon was red, as the ritual requested. It was the night of the blood moon.
They all made different signs with their hands—all except Lord Cassiel. He was indeed the mastermind behind all this, but he hesitated when it came to the execution.
"What are you waiting for, Lord Cassiel!" one of the hooded men barked, pushing down his hood. He was a young man in his late twenties with brown hair and eyes. "Is this fear? Cower not, now that we have come this far."
"Calm down, Aiko," the earlier man with the deep voice spoke.
"Do not tell me to calm down, Xin Lao. Time is of essence."
Lord Cassiel remained calm and reserved. "I know, Aiko. But… do you all still wish to continue with this?"
"I understand your fear, Lord Cassiel. But we cannot turn back now. The ritual must be performed. The blood moon won't wait for us to decide," said Bjorn with smug grin.
The sixth monk just gave a curt nod.
Lord Cassiel smiled. "Then we shall go ahead with it." He joined his index and thumb together on both hands before placing the three free fingers of both hands against each other.
The air suddenly went still the moment his fingers met. The others returned their focus to theirs, closing their eyes.
Suddenly, a gust of wind washed over the temple, yet the candles kept burning.
"Remember this, all of you: we open the Life Scale just a little, and we stop the ritual immediately after the power comes. That little energy is more than enough to be apocalyptic to this world," Lord Cassiel explained, eyes closed.
There were no replies, but everyone got the message.
They started to chant in ancient forgotten languages, and slowly the air grew heavier, then stopped.
All the candle flames turned a deep blue as they continued with their chant. And soon, the candles making the circle they were in all died in a blink, leaving only those in front of them.
The flames left the candles, levitating and surprisingly going around the monks and thus opening what looked like a portal that emanated a radiant energy.
The wind grew even heavier.
Everything went as planned until—
"Ack!" Bjorn held his throat, coughing out blood. He was bleeding from his eyes, nose, and ears as he slumped to the ground, choking himself as though that would put an end to it.
Then—
Crack!
The eyes of the monks snapped open.
"No no no. No! Seal it! End the ritual. We cracked the Life Scale," Mother Cecile shouted in terror.
"We can't do it quickly. Bjorn is… dead. Do you think he couldn't survive the energy?" Master Lao said, though the fright in his tone was clear as he looked at Bjorn's lifeless body.
Aiko remained speechless, hands shaking, utterly terrified as he was unable to take his eyes off the portal that bled out even more energy than before the crack.
Crack!
Crack!
"We have to stop it now!" Veyra urged. "We're breaking the—"
"We're not the ones," Lord Cassiel said in a calm tone, despite the situation. "We naively made the barrier weak, thus allowing those on the other side of the Life Scale a chance to destroy the only thing separating us from the spirit realm."
"Then we run!" Mother Cecile yelled, getting off her feet, ready to bolt, when—
"The cracks are already wide enough," said Lord Cassiel. His voice carried through the wind in pure regret. "They're here—"
Screech!
Shadows burst out of the portal, attacking the monks without a second thought.
Mother Cecile wasn't halfway to the door when something chomped on her side, blood spraying out.
Aiko was stabbed with a tendril that pinned him to a pillar—one he couldn't see.
The rest of the monks were soon to share the same fate.
And thus, the ritual was a failure.
That day, the barrier between life and death, the one thing separating the human world from the spirit realm—the Life Scale—was cracked, allowing spirits to flood the world, taking it by surprise.
These spirits, born from human emotions and taking different forms, bled into the world through unknown sources, purging the land. For a few months, humanity thought it was meeting its end. Military attempts were futile as normal humans couldn't see or combat them, until—
They appeared.
Humans who awakened their latent potential from the exposure to this foreign energy that resonated with what was already dormant. An energy called Grant.
Grant allowed humans to gain supernatural abilities that were out of this world, enabling them to see and combat spirits.
Humanity's hope returned, but so did the spirits. Nevertheless, more and more humans Awakened, and the world was forced to live in a never-ending war.
Not until it was ripped from its fragile peace once more with the news of the complete collapse of the Life Scale.
This would allow greater spirits, capable of world-ending potential, to walk the earth. Amongst them being the Twelve Seats, considered the pinnacle of spirit kind—powerful spirits divided between those who seek balance and those who plan to overthrow The One, the being who created them and everything else.
The only thing keeping them put is the Life Scale, as the cracks only allowed weaker spirits to leave the spirit realm.
This information, though, remained confidential and was known only to those at the top.
The Life Scale continued to crack. But how much would be left after a hundred years?