During the night, in one of the most remote areas in the empire, a lone mother put her daughter to sleep.
Their wooden cottage was old; every board creaking from the light wind or simply moving around in the small rooms. A faint smell of rotten wood and moisture lingered in the air. Woodlice and other insects loved the interior. Shhh, did you hear them crawling around? The two sure did, but they ignored it; nothing would change anyway.
The only light source was a small, dimly flickering candle. It was almost used up. They would try to buy a new one, but their harvest didn't look promising this year. Crop infestation, an early drought, and late freezing weather ruined most of the precious income source. It simply wasn't enough for most of their necessities—they needed nearly all of the food for themselves.
It wasn't the first time the odds were against this little family, but even if it got worse, they would withstand everything, as long as they had each other.
The little girl—still not tired after a hard day of fieldwork—begged her mother for a bedtime story.
"Mommy, Mommy, can you tell me the story about the brave heroes again?"
"Really? Again? Hon, just how often you wanna hear it?"
"Pretty please?" said the girl in the most begging tone.
The mother just rolled her eyes, "Urg, fine."
The little girl squealed happily and shut her eyes in anticipation. Seeing this, the mother began to retell the story in a mellow voice.
"Once upon a time, when the world was still devoid of gods, a woman wandered across the lands. She was one of many chosen—not by any higher being but the world itself—to help all races live in harmony and safety. The races called them the 'Origins.'"
"Why would they call them that?" asked the little kid excitedly.
"Well, oral tradition says that each Origin was the first or most powerful of their respective race. With their combined influence, they unified the races under the banner of the first empire. It was hard work since, even after years of cooperation, conflicts between races were still commonplace: haughty elves who thought of others as less significant, selfish dwarves who didn't share their craftsmanship knowledge. Or humans who saw themselves as the purest race and spat on other cultures.
"Over a long time, most conflicts and differences could be resolved, but some things never truly change. All it took was a single thought of chaos to destroy this feeble bound and rekindle the old spark of hatred."
"Here it comes, here it comes," muttered the little one, thrilled.
The mother sighed but continued, "The woman-who-wandered-first was disappointed about the possible outcome of development within the empire. With revulsion, she looked down upon the races. So much potential, but they were unfinished, unpure vessels of depravity. Hence her experiments began.
"She tried to create a pure vessel that generates its own mana. Many trials and errors later, the first Mana Beast was born—Chimera. Nobody knew where it came from cause it had traits of every living race. The idea one of them would create something like this to overpower the others stoked chaos. The settled conflicts arose anew, and soon infighting followed, then death and destruction. Nevertheless, more and more Mana Beasts were born; nobody knew who did this.
"But the beasts' mother wasn't satisfied with this. The unworthy races were a thorn in her side—so she took their ancestral knowledge. Without this, they would all wither, and her children shall rule this world alone.
Yet the races, led by the Origins, repeatedly fought with the Mana Beasts and withstood their advances. Angered that her peers didn't understand the necessity of erasing the false vessels, she took the sunlight. Even if they all were to resolve their conflicts again, they would never be able to defeat her and restore the light. Crops will all die within a few weeks; without fodder, their livestock quickly starve. Ultimately all races would perish in a famine."
"But then—" the girl began but got quickly hushed by her mother.
"Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?" she admonished her daughter for interrupting again. The chirpy little child immediately became quiet. "Good."
"But then, in their darkest hour, the gods emerged. They pitied the mortals who suffered under the woman's misdeeds, so the deities gave them a possibility. The Origins could become their champions and the First Heroes. They would bestow them a part of their powers, and if the new heroes were to pass the First Queste of the benevolent gods, a gift awaited.
"The woman was boiling with rage. These so-called gods attempted to stand against her? It's not just that; they also dared to give the other Origins some power. And to take it to the extreme, the intruders created a temporary light source for the withering plants. Even with these inconveniences, she swore she would not falter and create the perfect world.
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"A long war began to fight back the Mana Beasts and restore the world's natural order. Besides all endeavors, most conflicts and hatred between the races couldn't be undone. Still, even if the races and their heroes didn't trust each other completely, they would fight for their own good, despite all their differences.
"Over time, they moved from defense more and more to offense: repelling the strongest Mana Beasts, counterattacking, destroying breeding burrows...
"In the end, they cornered the woman and fought her frenziedly. The battle continued for weeks, yet the heroes lost. None of them died, but they were exhausted, critically wounded, and needed to withdraw. On the other hand, the woman was without any visible signs of exhaustion or injuries—she was completely fine.
"Again and again, the First Heroes tried to defeat her, but the outcome remained the same every time. Decades went by. Thus the woman earned the title 'Eternal Witch'. She was unbeatable; even after beheading her, the head just burst into flames, turned to ashes, and a new one simply grew on the witch's shoulder. Every. Single. Time.
"The heroes concluded that they couldn't kill her, so a new approach to defeat the witch was required. They forged a weapon with their borrowed divine energy. In hindsight, it was a foolish idea. They staked everything on one card—losing their celestial powers to retrieve a sealing sword.
"The Eternal Witch, too arrogant for her own good, challenged the heroes after receiving intel about their plan. She thought it would be way easier to finish them off all at once in one place to prevent unforeseen variables. A challenge was issued.
"On the day of battle, the Origins gathered where the woman first awoke—a lovely vast meadow. In the center of the meadow stood a single ancient oak tree. Under the tree sat the witch, humming an eerie melody. As soon as they were near enough to understand her, she got up and welcomed them like old friends. The heroes said nothing; they just glared at her with hatred. The Eternal Witch sighed and summoned her wand.
"Nobody knows how long they fought, but the witch miscalculated the sword's sealing power in the end. By a stroke of luck, the First Heroes overpowered her for a single breath and impaled her on the oak with the blade. She wasn't dead, no, but the witch's soul was now trapped forever. The sword could never be removed, not even by the gods. The Eternal Witch was 'destroyed' for good.
"However, the harm to the world was already done, and even without the woman's help, Mana Beasts still ravaged the lands. Even the heroes suffered a hard blow; five died, three will never completely recover from their injuries. At least they got their sun back.
"The Gods, pleased with the outcome, praised the remaining champions and fulfilled their promise of surviving the First Queste. The gift they passed on to the heroes, races and the world was called 'System'.
"System—a tool that enables endless growth and power. Legends say that within you may even obtain godhood.
"The races loved the heroes for their accomplishments till today. Even if every race mostly opines that only the hero representing their own race is the one True Hero, there are places where all heroes are worshiped."
With this, the parent concluded the story. A deep sadness appeared in the mother's eyes for a fleeting moment. Her daughter, nearly sleeping, spoke dozily.
"I want to be a hero too..."
The mother answered with a whispery voice, "You will, one day for sure."
Unbeknownst to them, dark hooded figures were approaching the housing. Wicked smiles and eyes full of greed could be seen in the dim moonlight.
"For the Jaeger Families!" bellowed a hoarse voice.
Water droplets fell on a dirty face. The young one awoke from the dream with a groan; she looked around in the dark prison cell with glazy eyes. A weeping whisper left the torn lips and echoed in the room.
"There are no heroes nor happy endings."
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