People used to say… when a person dies, their soul leaves their body. Only an empty shell remains. And no power… could bring that soul back exactly as it was.
But this world… did not always operate by the rules. One of the ancient scriptures spoke of a woman who refused to accept these laws. Her name… was Yuria.
Yuria was not like the others. She was never one to mourn the departed. Because she… did not believe that death was an end. She knew that souls did not vanish entirely. They merely… scattered. They would break into pieces and become invisible, but they were never truly erased. And Yuria… could find these fragments.
She was doing something that no one was supposed to know. Defying the order of the world, she collected the final remnants of dead souls. Every soul fragment she gathered merged into her. At first, it was a small whisper. Then it became a voice. Then… a power. As time passed, Yuria began to change.
She was no longer just a human. With every soul she collected, she transformed into something greater, heavier… more divine. It was right after the bloody collapse of the Church of Lux Dolaris…. One of her companions walking beside her had reached the brink of death. Their breath was failing, their eyes slowly closing. There was nothing left to be done. The others drew back, but Yuria… did not.
She knelt silently. She placed her hand on her companion's chest. And in that moment… what she did was not fully understood by anyone. There was a moment of silence. Then her companion's body trembled… and suddenly vanished. It was erased as if it had never existed.
Then, a thin light rose. Green… a pale but vibrant light. It drifted slowly into the air and was drawn toward Yuria's body without resistance. The moment the light entered her, her eyes flashed for an instant. And then… everything returned to normal.
But Yuria was no longer the same. Long ago, she had understood a truth: it was impossible to bring a soul back entirely. But… it was possible to re-bind it.
Years later, she saw the lifeless body of a young girl, the daughter of a couple she knew. She told them she could not bring their daughter back. But in reality… she was about to do something no one had ever attempted before. The body was cold, but it could still… be used.
Yuria closed her eyes. She felt that fragment she carried within her… that familiar soul she had taken years ago. She released it. And she bound that fragment… into the small body. The girl's body suddenly took a breath. Her eyes opened.
By defying absolute laws, Yuria had resurrected the dead. But… this was not a true return. The girl had not returned with her own soul. A soul that had died years ago, pulled back from the edge of dissolution… Devranna, had come to exist again within this body. But those eyes… were empty. Until that bloody day in the forest, where she would experience her true awakening at the borders of the Ket Curse. And when that day came… no matter the outcome, Yuria's fate would also be sealed.
Yuria shook off these memories echoing in the depths of her mind. Her gaze, behind the blindfold, focused on Auren, who lay motionless on the table. In her centuries-long life, she had seen countless deaths and scattered fragments. Bodies rot, souls depart.
But this boy lying on the table… was different. For the first time in her life, she was seeing someone whose soul refused to leave the body, even though the body was completely dead. The soul had not died. Stubbornly… angrily… it clung to that cold body with a dark power.
A silent breath escaped Yuria's lips. The massive sphere of green light she held between her hands pulsed like a beating heart. She slowly lowered her hands. The moment the sphere touched Auren's mangled chest… the room was painted in a blinding emerald green.
The light flowed into the boy's body like a waterfall. The fatal wound began to close rapidly. Torn flesh knit together, broken bones fused. Life flooded back into his cold skin. But for Yuria, what mattered… was not the physical world.
The moment the sphere fully entered Auren, her consciousness was pulled away. And she found herself… within his inner world. This was not a physical place. An infinite, pitch-black plane… and beneath her feet was a surface like shimmering glass, resembling water. There was no sky. Only an oppressive sense of infinity.
Yuria looked. On one side… was a boy curled in a fetal position, sleeping peacefully. This was Auren himself. But across from him… stood a massive silhouette born from the darkness. The embodiment of pure rage, fear, and hatred. Yuria understood the truth immediately. This was not a demon. This… was Auren himself.
Yuria carefully studied the massive, suffocating silhouette. This darkness… was not ordinary magic. It was a broken mind's way of protecting—or perhaps destroying—itself.
"You..." Yuria said, her voice echoing in the infinite void. "Are you the same person as this child?". The dark silhouette slowly nodded. Black auras spread across the surface like ink dripping into water. It had no face. But Yuria felt the gaze directed at her from within that pitch darkness—a heavy gaze kneaded with pain and anger.
Yuria's mind was slowly piecing it together. She was looking at the source of that stubborn bond that even death could not break. "So..." she said, weighing her words. "When death came, was it you who chained the boy's soul to that cold body... you who prevented him from leaving?".
The shadows rippled. Then, a voice rose that made the void tremble. Muffled... echoing... yet so familiar. As if Auren's innocent voice was returning from the bottom of a bottomless abyss, aged and shattered by hundreds of years.
"Ah... no," said the dark side. Its voice was like the thin, sharp sound of breaking glass. "I did not come to exist to keep him alive. I was born... because the 'real' me died".
The Dark Auren slowly turned its faceless head. It looked at the child sleeping in the fetal position on the glass-like surface. "We were normally one whole," it continued. The melancholy in its voice grew heavier. "But when that sword entered our back and pierced our heart... when we saw that desperation in our sister's eyes... the pain we felt was far heavier than a human soul could bear".
Its shapeless hand of shadow slowly reached out. "And in that moment..." it said, "our primary soul could not endure. It shattered". It lowered its hand toward the sleeping Auren. "I... was born from within that shattering. From the ashes of revenge, hatred, and pain. I carried everything he could not".
Its shadowy fingers almost touched the sleeping boy. "He, however..." it paused, "...is the last pure fragment remaining from our primary soul. The part that is afraid to wake up... the part that fled from the pain and took refuge in this eternal sleep".
Yuria remained silent. This was not just trauma. It was the splitting of a soul. And the being before her... was not a weakness, but a perfect defense.
"If he does not wake," the Dark Auren said, turning back to Yuria, "control of the body will pass entirely to me". The shadows intensified. "And when I wake... I will turn everything that breathes in this world to ash".
A slight, almost cruel smile appeared on Yuria's lips. Her stance did not change. "Turn the world to ash?". Her voice was sharp and clear. "Your anger is great, little shadow". She took a slow step forward. "But hatred alone is not enough to burn a world. It requires a will to command it".
Her gaze pierced the darkness. "And you... do not yet possess that will. You," Yuria said, "are nothing more than... a drifting scream born of pain". The shadows around the Dark Auren rippled violently. But it could not step forward. Yuria's power... was overwhelming.
Ignoring it, Yuria began to walk. Her steps created silent ripples on the dark surface. She reached the sleeping Auren and knelt. "I will not let him hide here". Her voice was calm but beyond debate. She reached out to the boy's chest. "It is time to wake up... little fragment". This time her voice was different—soft, yet unbreakable. "You cannot run from your pain. Face it".
A wave of green energy from Yuria's soul enveloped the sleeping Auren. At that moment, the void shook. In the physical realm, within that dim and silent room of the manor, Auren's cold, dead body jolted violently on the stone table. He drew a painful, deep, and wheezing breath, as if filling his lungs with air for the first time in centuries.
"Haaah!".
The boy's chest began to heave rapidly. The massive green sphere of light from between Yuria's hands was fully absorbed, and the energy storm subsided. Aelrindel, Lavinia, and Zirel stepped forward in shock, while Nythar rose quickly from his chair.
Yuria slowly lowered her hands. Her black-and-green blindfold was in place, and her poise was unshaken. She had succeeded. Auren opened his eyes, coughing. His emerald eyes still bore the deep traces of death and the darkness he had been trapped in.
His wound was closed; blood pumped back into his ash-colored skin. He gripped the cold stone table with trembling hands, trying to comprehend where he was. Darven's sword had killed him. But now he was breathing. He had returned from death... but with that destructive shadow sealed inside him, he would never be the same child again.