Eclipse of Origins

Chapter 1

A young boy sprinted through the dimly lit hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. The echoes of his footsteps seemed deafening in the silence, but he dared not stop. Only moments ago, he had been standing behind his father, who was engaged in conversation with the emperor in the grand banquet hall. Then, all of a sudden, an attack erupted, and in the middle of the chaos, he ran away from his father's side.

"Find the boy!" one of the assassins exclaimed from further down the hallway.

Terror surged through the boy's veins, and he ran even faster. He didn't understand what was happening.

Desperate, he glanced around, searching frantically for a place to hide. His eyes darted across the corridor until he spotted a room with the door slightly ajar. Without hesitation, he slipped inside, closing it softly behind him.

The interior of the room exuded beauty, tempered by an underlying sense of eeriness. Towering, arched ceilings soared overhead, adorned with intricate frescoes. Stained glass windows depicted a goddess, her ethereal figure illuminated by the soft light, casting a mesmerizing array of colors upon the stone floor. In the center of the room lay the statue of the same Goddess.

However, the sounds of footsteps and voices drifting from the hallway jolted him from his trance. He darted behind the statue to hide. He slid down to the floor, knees pulled tightly to his chest as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Father," he choked. "Please be safe."

For a few moments, he remained curled, overwhelmed by fear. But then, he rose to his knees. His hands came together in a prayerful clasp. Eyes brimming with tears, he whispered fervently, "Oh mighty goddess, this unfortunate soul is not deserving of your audience nor your divine favor, but I beseech you... please, protect my father from the dangers that loom beyond these walls. Let him return safely to me."

The boy did not expect an answer because statues cannot speak nor move. But he could only cling to a sliver of hope that the goddess above might be listening to his desperate prayer and is merciful enough to spare his father from the clutches of death.

Suddenly, a hand was patting his head. Startled, he recoiled, tumbling to the ground. Wincing in pain, he opened his eyes and beheld a golden mist coalescing into a human form. Shock coursed through him, and he crawled backward in fear, suspecting this apparition is one of the assassins. Yet the golden mist remained still, seemingly patient.

Reluctantly, he calmed himself down. The mist began to approach him, bending down to meet his gaze. It was then that he recognized the striking resemblance between the mist and the statue he had been praying to.

"Uhm," he stammered and quickly lowered his head. "I apologize for not recognizing your holiness!"

The goddess, amused, gently asked, "What is your name?"

Peering up through wide eyes, the boy replied, "Ludolf Velimn Seraphis, your Holiness."

"Ludolf," she echoed, cupping his cheeks tenderly. "I heard you. Unfortunately, it's too late to grant your prayer."

Ludolf's heart raced; a chill gripped him.

"As a goddess, I possess great power, yet it is forbidden for me to revive the dead. Nevertheless, I can bestow upon you a bit of my power. This gift will serve you well in the trials that lie ahead," the goddess stated, her hand glowing with a radiant light. She then placed her glowing palm against the boy's chest.

Ludolf felt a surge of power coursing through him, a warm and comforting sensation that seemed to erase the sting of her earlier words. But the comforting warmth suddenly intensified. His breath hitched, and his hands instinctively flew to his chest. A strangled gasp escaped his lips as his heart hammered against his ribs.