Chapter 1: The Rod

On the continent of Ezra stood the empire of Seron, and on the border of Seron stood a village. The moon illuminated the concrete pavement as a bald man of large stature with a long black beard, wearing ragged attire, stumbled through the empty streets. Every few steps, the man would guzzle liquor from the bottle in his right hand, walking through the village he arrived on the outskirts. In front of him stood a small log cabin with holes and cracked wood; moss grew along the sides, and weeds sprouted, covering the yard. The man walked towards the door, attempting to grab the handle, the man collapsed on the floor, and the bottle fell from his hand, hitting the ground and shattering.

The sun hung high in the sky,

"WAKE UP; YOU DRUNK BASTARD"

yelled a young woman as she poured water on the face of the drunk; she had long black hair, blue eyes, and a thin figure. She was a beautiful young lady; however, the fire in her eyes distorted her expression. she sighed, whispering to herself,

"Daemon, when will you pull yourself together."

Daemon awoke to the splash of water; he closed his eyes despite the surprise, quickly regaining his calm. Daemon slowly opened his eyes, looking at his daughter's angry face. Thinking to himself how long it had been since the last time she smiled at him,

''Good morning, sweetie," Daemon spoke in a cheerful tone with a wide smile.

"Morning, my ass, it's already afternoon," His daughter replied haughtily.

"Ah, what day is it, Lily." 

Lily paused, hesitating for a second

"It's November 3rd." 

She replied in a low tone; Lily then turned around and headed towards the cabin; she paused at the door and entered.

Odd, Daemon thought to himself; Daemon rose from the ground and moved sluggishly behind the house. He arrived at a shed in even worse shape than his home; time had broken the lock on the door, and planks of wood were missing. He pushed the door slightly and walked into the dark dust-filled shed. Daemon coughed, covering his mouth; he quickly headed towards a shelf and grabbed his tools. Daemon began to walk toward the forest behind the village; walking through the trees, he began to ruminate on the past.

Daemon was a herbalist by trade; this was the profession of his father and his father's father. In his youth, he grew up in Ceil, the capital city of Seron; his father being a herbalist Daemon, lived a wealthy life. Business for herbalists was usually successful, medicine was always needed, and few had mastered the art of herbalism. His childhood was full of happy occasions. Across his home lived a girl his age he had fallen in love with at first sight; her name was Ciara, and she had blonde hair and the most beautiful blue eyes.

Daemon would constantly tease her to grab her attention; every time she looked his way and yelled at him, he was delighted; As they aged and matured, their relationship grew. He knew her better than anyone, and she, him; After Daemon had taken over the herbalism business from his late father, he married Ciara and had his beautiful daughter Lily. Daemon's life was everything he ever dreamed of; Daemon believed himself to be invincible and able to overcome any obstacle. Through the storms of life, however, no one is invincible.

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In the capital existed numerous large merchant groups. When the emperor of Seron took power, he understood the force the merchants held. Seeking to put them under his umbrella, he offered them a deal. If they were to form a large union at the emperor's behest, they would receive tax cuts and protection from the emperor himself.

The merchants accepted the emperor's profitable deal, creating the merchant union. The merchants of the merchant union were able to acquire the rarest and cheapest herbs when they entered the herbalism business, selling the most affordable medicine on the market; this would lead to the failure of many small businesses. Forced, Daemon sold his family's shop; he moved outside the merchant union's reach, leaving Ceil. When Daemon and his family first arrived in the village, business was slow; however, Daemon had always been exceptionally social. Integrating himself amongst the villagers, he built connections leading to a prosperous business. The merchant union, however, continued to expand and eventually reached Daemon's new home.

After falling into poverty, Daemon began to drink heavily; he developed a sense of insecurity and felt worthless; being unable to provide for his family, his wife and daughter began to sew old or torn clothes of the villagers, whose kindness Daemon ignored. Daemon had lost himself in the world; his wife began leaving home in the evening and not returning until night.

Daemon occasionally heard the rumors, increasing the dread that plagued his heart. One fateful day he returned home from drinking earlier than usual. Since the morning, he had been experiencing a crushing feeling of anxiety. Arriving at his home, Daemon overheard his wife and daughter talking,

"Lily, why don't you come with me? Life in the capital is surely better than here. You can also be enrolled in school and receive a better education."

Lily looked at her mother, saddened; she wondered what she could have done better and how Lily could fix this situation. Finally, she gave up.

"No, mom ill stay here."

Ciara held a sad expression; however, she understood how much her daughter loved Daemon. Ciara hugged her daughter and kissed her forehead.

"I love you, Lilly; ill keep in touch; if you ever wanna move to Ciel, just let me know."

Daemon couldn't bare to face his wife in the eyes; he fled back to the pub and began drinking himself to ruination.

Flashing back to the present, Daemon, with tears rolling down his cheeks, bent down to pick up a herb. While reaching out to the root, Daemon suddenly recalled what day it was; today was November 3rd, Lily's birthday! Daemon immediately sprang up and began to rush through the forest. Sprinting through the trees, Daemon tripped on an objective; he heard the sound of wood cracking, saw a bright flash of light, and then fell face-flat on the dirt, his body rolling through the forest.

Despite the pain, Daemon hastily rose to his feet. He began to glance around cautiously. The forest was silent, the only sound being that of the small animals in the trees; everything appeared as it should. Daemon relaxed slightly, thinking he may still be drunk. Daemon retraced his steps to the origins of the flash and found a rod jutting vertically from the soil. The rod was an odd sight in the forest; it was pitch black, around 3 feet in length, and as thick as a young man's fist.

The rod was straight as an arrow and unusually clean; Daemon hesitantly approached, checking his surroundings, and reached out slowly to the rod. He grabbed the rod and pulled it from the ground, flinching expectantly; it came out easily the forest remained silent. Am I genuinely intoxicated? Thought Daemon; however, glancing at the rod, it was undoubtedly odd. Daemon hit the stick on a tree, and nothing occurred. Daemon then grabbed both ends of the post with both hands, put strength, and snapped it. A bright white light flashed.

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