Gildoria. A small northern town under the rule of Elvaria Kingdom. It seemed peaceful to travelers, yet it reeked of rot underneath its cobblestone streets. To Eris, it was not a home—but fertile soil where destruction could quietly take root.
That night, the sky was cloaked in clouds. Rain hadn't fallen yet, but the air hung heavy with the scent of lightning.
In a narrow alley few dared to notice, Eris stood cloaked in shadow, observing a small boy surrounded by three towering men.
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The boy didn't cry. He didn't plead. He stood still, gripping a rusted piece of metal like a knife. His dark eyes held no fear, only a cold, calculating vigilance—like someone always ready to be killed… and to kill back.
The thugs laughed and mocked him, calling him a filthy street rat.
But the boy didn't flinch. He moved slowly, precisely, reading them.
He's waiting for an opening, Eris thought.
When one man charged, the boy struck—not for the heart, but beneath the armpit. A small wound, but painful and unexpected.
The man screamed. The others raged forward.
That's when Eris acted.
Shadows surged from the ground. The men didn't see it—only felt their limbs seize up with a cold grip, as if their own silhouettes had turned against them.
One by one, they collapsed, unconscious.
The boy stood there, blood dripping from his face. He didn't thank Eris. He didn't speak. He simply looked—silent and guarded.
> "Why didn't you run?" Eris asked.
The boy studied him before replying, "If I run, they'll come after me again tomorrow."
> "So, you wanted to kill them?"
He didn't answer immediately. He turned to the bodies on the ground.
> "I want freedom. And freedom isn't given. It's taken."
Eris liked his answer. Cold. Quiet. Watchful. He didn't beg for help. He didn't seek praise. This child wasn't a victim. He was an unsharpened blade.
> "Do you want power?" Eris asked.
> "If it means I never have to hide again."
> "Then come with me. I won't save you—but I'll show you how to destroy everything."
"Who are you?"
"My name doesn't matter. But the world will come to know me as calamity."
The boy nodded once. No questions. No hesitation.
That night, two small figures walked out of the alley, their shadows joined beneath the moonlight.
And so it began—one piece of the puzzle falling into place. Riven, the silent blade, became the right hand of something the world had never seen. And the mastermind, Eris, had just claimed his first pawn.