The Falor of Khaleus: Blade of the Empress

Chapter 1

There are many places one would never want to be during a storm, be it at work or at school per say. Well sadly I was stuck in the latter.

The storm outside had turned the world into a soggy mess, with rain pouring down steadily and the sky a gloomy gray. It seemed like no one in their right mind would brave the weather, leaving the streets eerily empty. With a sigh, I gazed out the window, my eyes tracing the rhythmic dance of raindrops against the glass.

The classroom felt stuffy and cramped, and I couldn't wait to be out of there. The sound of rain tapping against the windows was almost soothing, but it also made me feel more isolated. I just wanted to be home, warm and dry, away from the dreary weather and the monotony of the day.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I glanced down to find a message from my grandfather. His words, though brief, carried an unexpected urgency: "Storm's getting a lot worse than I thought. I'm going to close the shop early today."

"Adrian Evans?" The voice cut through the hum of the classroom, pulling me from my reverie. I glanced up to see Mrs. Roberts at the front of the room, peering over her glasses with the practiced patience of someone who'd seen it all.

Mrs. Roberts was a figure straight out of a bygone era, with auburn hair that hinted at youthful ambition, though it had long since settled into a neatly restrained style. Her wardrobe seemed perpetually stuck in the past, as if she had missed the memo on modern trends by a decade or so.

"Here," I replied, my voice barely rising above the drone of the storm outside. My attention drifted as I idly fidgeted with the black tungsten ring that dangled from the leather cord around my neck—a nervous habit inherited from my grandfather.

The storm's fury battered the windows, a stark contrast to the mundane roll call. Mrs. Roberts continued, her voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos. "Alright, welcome back. Can anyone tell me how the myths of Prometheus and Pandora illustrate themes of human suffering and divine retribution in Greek mythology, and what is the connection between these two myths?"

As if on cue, Dylan's hand shot up with practiced precision. Dylan, the son of the famous scientist. Dr. Stone who had vanished almost 12 years ago. The man who left all his wealth to his son, a son who has been following in his fathers footsteps to become a great scientist.

He was the greatest prodigy in all of England. His knowledge outclassed many at a young age, and he had been given the title of Prodigy of Science and engineering. I swear the dude was talented in literally anything that he tried.

"The myths of Prometheus and Pandora both illustrate themes of human suffering and divine retribution. Prometheus defies Zeus by giving fire to humanity and is punished with eternal torment. In retaliation, Zeus creates Pandora, who opens a box releasing all the world's evils. Together, these myths show how divine actions lead to human suffering and the consequences of defying the gods."

"Very good, Dylan," Mrs. Roberts said, her voice cutting through the low murmur of the classroom as she wrote the answers on the whiteboard. "Now, can anyone tell me what were the contents that emerged from Pandora's box?"

A silence fell over the room, punctuated only by the relentless pounding of rain against the windows. After a few moments, Mrs. Roberts walked back to her desk, her shoes tapping rhythmically against the floor. She pulled out a long wooden stick—a relic from her days as a stern disciplinarian. "Adrian Evans," she called, her gaze fixing on me. "Can you answer the question?"

I glanced around the room, desperately searching for a hint in the sea of blank faces. "Uh, trapped air"

"Not quite." Mrs. Roberts replied, her tone mild but firm. "Does anyone else want to try and answer the question?"