The Death of a Dream [hiatus]

Prologue

"Last Born"

Caledonian Kingdom, Luster City

"And so all things come to an end," a man in a white cassock murmured as he rubbed his chin. "Why it chose to do this a quarter to midnight is beyond me. Suppose magical creatures haven't a care for my nerves."

He watched in amusement as three of his cohorts stared at a glass case full of dark blue mist.

"Though I will say that the end of the Gifted certainly marks the end of an era," he added as he turned to face a military general donning a dark cape. "The end of a magical era."

The two men stood in a room adjacent to the one below, observing via a panel of glass. It was a difficult feat to capture a body of Mist, let alone the amount that was trapped inside the glass case. They had been observing the it for months, waiting for a sign that it had found an infant to 'bless'. The Mist remained very subdued—until tonight .

"A painful one for Caledonia at that, but I must agree, Acodemus," the general nodded. "Is there a way to find the last of the Gifted?"

Acodemus shrugged. "If there was a way, I'd have found out by now."

The general shook his head. "You're proving to be a thorn in my side. If you can't help us find any more Gifted, why do we even keep you around? Once the Council gets word of your lack of results—"

Acodemus chuckled. "The Council is free to do my job if they so please, Bacchus." He strutted towards the dungeon's exit. "Oh, apologies. I forgot they're all much too busy attending your frivolous parties and declaring unreasonable wars against our neighbors."

General Bacchus squeezed his jaw, a vein popping out from the corner of his head. "Watch your tongue, snake. Lest you forget who got you this job after your affair with the little noble girl."

Acodemus waved the accusation off. The incident was lurking in the darkest corner of his mind, covered by a blanket of shame.

His thoughts didn't linger long on his past actions as the Mist began to twitch violently in its glass prison. The men surrounding the case were thrown backwards by an invisible force, knocking them out. The glass itself began to crack as the Mist expanded its dark body. Before long, the glass exploded, sending fragments into the bodies of the unconscious men. Like a creature being released from its cage, the Mist bounded around the room, seeping into the cracks between the bricks that made up the research dungeon. In its fury, a low growling echoed within the dungeon, sending shivers to the walls around.

"Idiots." Bacchus cursed under his breath, noticing the three men bleeding out on the dark stone floor.

A large tendril smashed against the glass panel the two men were standing in front of, but this one didn't crack or shudder. The Mist roared at the men, its body pulling apart to reveal a black void that shook with such intensity, it sent a shiver down Acodemus' body.

The scholar cleared his throat. "I have no answer as to who the Mist will latch onto, but I do know that the last of Belveus' magic will end up creating the most powerful Gifted Belvegarde will ever know."

General Bacchus folded his arms across his chest as the Mist began to slowly dissipate into the cracks of the walls. "What makes you so sure?"

Acodemus joined him at the viewing glass, feeling safe in the Mist's disappearance. "Belveus sought to change humanity, be it for better or worse, and blessed us with the Mist. Only natural that the last will usher Belvegarde into an unpredictable era fraught with disaster."

"So, whoever claims the last of the Seraph Dragon's blood will no doubt be the most powerful warrior in Belvegarde!" General Bacchus eyed the room beneath them carefully, a faint glint shimmering at the corner of his eyes.