1 Prologue

PTUI

A ball of phlegm was viciously spat onto Vice's youthful face as he was held down onto the ground by a much bigger and stronger boy. The bully, about fourteen years old, looked down at the face of what he believed to be a 'monstrosity', disgust rooting itself deep within his soul. The boy felt like he was doing all of those around him a service by 'teaching' Vice a lesson. What this lesson was supposed to teach, the boy didn't care a tiny bit about, however, the fact that nobody stopped his actions in middle of the market during broad daylight reaffirmed his belief that he was doing what was right, what was needed.

"What have I told you before? None of us want to see your putrid face here. Either you hide it under a hood, or don't ever come here again. What is it that you don't understand about that you demon?" George said. He gave a swift punch to the thin boy's face. Dark purple blood spurted out from the wound he'd just created on the boy's face, much to his own dismay.

"AHH, you motherfucking asshole! Don't let me see your face here again," he said, and immediately ran away to find a source of water to clean away the mess on his hands, fearing that the 'demon blood' would possess him. His blond hair rose and fell like the waves of an ocean as he sprinted away into the thick of the crowd.

Dozens of people walked past Vice, looking down on the boy with either fear, pity or disgust present on their faces. None, not even the kindest of children looked at him with warm eyes. He slowly got up, and wiped away the thick liquid on his face, as well as the purple blood running down from his lips. After dusting himself off, he made his way through the bustling market, forcing himself to keep moving his feet along the pavement, step after step, until he reached his home half an hour later.

Vice opened the frail wooden door, and entered the desolate home. As he walked past the mirror hung next to the front door, Vice looked at his own reflection. He looked completely normal from his head down, and he was rather tall for his age. The six year old boy, however, had one feature which brought him all of the pain, sorrow, and unwanted attention imaginable. From his nose upward, his face was covered in a dark purple, shadow-like mask. Not only did his completely black eyes look devoid of any emotions, but the two horns that protruded from his head didn't help either. His dark brown skin on the rest of his body was also unique, as his mother had had relations with a foreigner to the land of Restok, a man she would never see again in her life after the one night they'd spent together.

Vice made his way through the run-down building, which was located in the slums of the capital city of Restok, Port Harbor. A weird name indeed, as the city was far from any huge body of water.

"Oh you're home, I made som-" his mother, Angeline, froze upon seeing the blood on her son's lips. The woman quickly picked up a napkin from the kitchen and tended to Vice's wound. She cradled the small boy, who had only turned six this year, in her arms. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Vice gave no reply, and instead stood looking at his mother, emotionless. He loved her dearly, but knew that his existence had only brought her pain. Had it not been for him, then she'd probably be living a life full of luxury, for she was beautiful and sought after by many. However, his birth, and the knowledge of having to take him in was enough to dissuade anybody from pursuing his mother.

"It's gonna be fine Mom," Vice said, and he walked off into his room. He spent the rest of the day sleeping in his bed, allowing his sore body to recuperate, and only woke up again once the moonlight shone down onto the ground, and the night had taken over.

Vice quietly walked out of the house, making sure the front door didn't smash closed due to the turbulent wind present outside. His small and frail body ventured out of the slums where he lived, each building as worn down as his own. The smell of rotting meat and excrement pervaded through his nostrils, but were unable to cause him any discomfort as he'd already gotten used to the stench.

He weaved his way through the dark streets of the city Port Harbor with ease as he could see as clearly during the night as he could during the day. There were no lanterns around, and it was pitch black during the night. The cobblestone that made up the pavement felt extremely cold during the night, and his feet, which were bare, trembled under the temperature. After an hour of walking, Vice finally reached his destination.

A large tree stood proudly in the darkness, and a rope hung from its thickest branch. Vice had previously been here to this forest two days prior, however had decided against committing his final act as he'd been scared to take the plunge. The wind blew ferociously, causing the blades of grass in the field to bow down promptly. Vice walked up to the big brown tree, and slowly climbed up. His fingers were pierced multiple times by the sharp bark of the tree, however he didn't once display any registering of the pain, and continued with his ascent.

Just as he reached the branch, a blazing red comet flew from the sky, its heat a raging inferno. The comet smashed into the tree, flinging Vice away dozens of meters. The boy was unable to realize exactly what had happened, but as he mid-air, he finally smiled. He thought his life was finally going to be taken away from him, as the fall should be too much for his frail body to take. He closed his eyes in anticipation, wondering what it'd be like to finally enter the after-life.

'Huh?' Vice thought as he opened his eyes. He looked around and could see the wreckage of the tree he'd just been on, its trunk being burned to cinders. The flames from the tree had ignited the nearby grass, and it spread quickly into the distance, igniting other trees and shrubbery in the forest.

Vice quickly tried to get up onto his feet, but fell down the moment he tried to put his weight onto his left foot. His ankle was already swollen to the size of his fists, and he had numerous injuries elsewhere on his body.

'So this is how it ends?' he thought to himself. He wasn't mad at the situation, rather, he didn't want to die in such an excruciating way, by burning alive in a forest fire. He closed his eyes, however, and let fate come for him in the way it had always intended to.

'Get up!' a cold voice rung in Vice's mind. 'Heed my call, you must get up now.'

A chaotic energy was released within Vice's body, and his sprained ankle quickly started to heal, its size reducing back to normal. A thick amount of arcana from the atmosphere plunged into his body, rejuvenating the boy's spirit. Vice stood up with ease, his body feeling better than it had ever before, and looked around the forest for the voice that'd just spoken out. There was nothing but darkness and the bright red glow of the fire in front of him, however.

'Don't resist my call. You must leave this place immediately,' the voice rung out one final time.