The Echoes Of Memories

Prologue : The Beginning

A thousand years ago, the prophecy foretold the arrival of three great Trials—tests meant to challenge the very essence of heroism and shape the future of the world. The Trials of Valor and Wisdom were conquered by two brave adventurers whose names echoed through history, but the third and final test, the Trial of Creation, remained untouched. No one had succeeded, and the world awaited a hero bold enough to face its challenge.

Thirteen years ago, after centuries of silence, the kingdom heard a faint whisper of hope. Somewhere in the South, it was said that two individuals had been chosen for the Trial of Creation. The trial itself had selected them, and their names spread through the Kingdom of the South. The Queen summoned the chosen ones and granted them the freedom to embark on a journey that would prepare them for the great challenge ahead. They trained, fought, and grew stronger over time, earning the title of legendary heroes—heroes destined for the Trial of Creation. Their deeds became the stuff of legends, and finally, after many trials, they set off on their ultimate quest.

Months passed, then years. The kingdom received no word from its legendary heroes. No one knew if they had completed the trial or if they had simply vanished, their fates swallowed by the unknown. The Queen hesitated to acknowledge their loss, but deep in her heart, she knew the truth. They had given everything they could, and now, they were gone.

One quiet evening, the Queen sat upon her throne, sorrow draping over her like a shroud. Before her, two knights knelt, each holding a weapon—the sword and staff of the legendary heroes.

“Your Majesty,” one knight said softly,

“we found these by the mountains near the Trial’s entrance. Their bodies... we could not find.”

The Queen’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the sword. She had seen this blade before, held it before the heroes embarked on their final journey. Her vision blurred with tears, and she gently touched the cold steel.

“They were more than heroes,” she whispered, barely audible. “They were our hope.”

Suddenly, as her tears fell upon the blade, a faint glow emanated from the key she wore around her neck—a key meant for the chosen one of the Trial of Creation. Startled, the Queen wiped her tears away and stared at the key as it pulsed with light. Something stirred within her.

“A new chosen one…” she murmured to herself, her voice quivering with disbelief.

A week later, the Queen summoned her council to the grand hall for an emergency meeting. Six of the most important figures in the kingdom gathered around the ornate table. General Hawkson, a tall and imposing figure in shining armor, stood at attention beside the Queen. The High Wizard, draped in deep violet robes, stood to his left.

"We must find the new chosen one," the Queen declared, holding up the glowing key for all to see.

"The Trial of Creation has not ended. The key has chosen again."

The Minister, a stocky man with graying hair, frowned deeply.

“But how, Your Majesty? How do we find someone worthy of the trial when our greatest heroes have vanished?”

The Queen’s eyes flickered with hope.

"We must search. Somewhere in the South, there is someone ready for this. We cannot let the prophecy die with them."

A hush fell over the room. The six advisors exchanged glances, unsure of how to proceed. The silence was heavy, and the Queen’s expression became strained.

“I must ask for your advice," she said quietly.

"How do we find them?"

The High Wizard raised his hand, his voice ancient and steady.

“We can use magic to scour the land, find those with the potential to wield the key. But it is not without risk. The power to summon such magic may attract forces we are not prepared to confront.”

The Minister interjected,

"We don't even know if the chosen one exists yet. What if this is all in vain?"

The Queen clenched her fists, her patience wearing thin.

"We cannot do nothing. Our kingdom’s future depends on it."

It was then that General Hawkson, who had been standing silently, finally spoke. His voice was calm yet commanding, instantly drawing the attention of the room.

“Your Majesty,” he began, bowing slightly,

“instead of searching blindly across the kingdom, I propose we create an academy.”

The Queen’s eyes widened in surprise.

“An academy?”

Hawkson nodded.

“Yes. A place where the finest warriors, mages, and adventurers can gather. There, we will train them and allow the key to choose among them. The chosen one will reveal themselves through their strength and spirit. The academy will serve as a beacon for the most skilled, and we will watch as the Trial’s chosen one emerges.”

The Queen blinked, her surprise giving way to admiration.

“General Hawkson, that... that is brilliant.”

Before Hawkson could respond, the Minister scoffed.

“Brilliant? How do we know the chosen one will even attend this academy? We’d be gathering adventurers with no guarantee of success!”

Hawkson turned to face the Minister, his gaze unyielding.

“Let the key choose,” he said simply.

“It will guide us.”

The Queen placed a hand over her chest, her heart racing. Hawkson’s plan had sparked a new sense of hope within her.

"We will do as the General suggests. The academy shall be built, and the chosen one will be found. High Wizard, can we trust you to gather ten guardians to watch over this academy?”

The High Wizard bowed deeply.

“I shall find those worthy of protecting the key and ensuring the safety of the academy.”

As the council continued its discussion, the heavy doors of the chamber suddenly burst open. A little girl, her golden curls bouncing with every step, dashed into the room, giggling as a maid hurried after her.

“Mama!” the girl squealed as she threw herself at the Queen’s feet.

“The maid’s scary!”

The Queen laughed warmly, kneeling to embrace the child.

“Lia, you mustn’t interrupt the meeting, dear.”

The maid, flushed and apologetic, bowed low.

“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to disturb—”

The Queen waved her hand dismissively, still smiling.

“It’s alright. Lia is just being herself.” She stroked the child’s hair gently.

“Now, go with the maid, dear. I’ll see you later.”

Lia pouted but allowed herself to be led out of the room, waving one last time at her mother before disappearing down the corridor.

The Queen sighed, her heart warmed by the brief moment of joy her daughter had brought into the tense meeting.

"The future of our kingdom rests not only in these trials but in the hands of those we leave behind," she whispered to herself.

As peace returned to the Kingdom of the South, far away, deep in the South Forest, a mystery unfolded. By a quiet river, under the light of the moon, a small wooden house stood, its back door open to an unknown world beyond. A lone figure in a black hooded coat sat outside, playing a soft, haunting melody on a flute. Fireflies circled him as the wind carried the tune through the trees.

The night was calm, but the secrets of the Trial of Creation were only just beginning to unravel.

- End Of Prologue -