Days later, within the same kingdom, a young boy played near the outer walls—unaware of the fate shaping his world.
A stranger approached him, cloaked and calm. He introduced himself as a Sage and spoke of magic and power. Curious, the boy followed him beyond the kingdom gates.
Raising his hand, the Sage chanted,
"Flaming Ball — ten percent."
A blazing sphere struck a tree, reducing it to ashes.
The boy stared in awe.
Then, hesitantly, he raised his own hand.
"Fire Ball — twenty percent."
The spell obeyed.
The Sage stepped back in shock.
"You are no ordinary child," he said. "You were born to master magic."
He explained the laws of magic—Curses and Spells, Basic and Maximum—and warned that true mastery took years. He spoke of combining spells, but only after reaching fifty percent control.
The lesson ended in blood.
A blade pierced the Sage's heart.
He screamed as his body twisted and grew, dark energy spilling from within. Before the transformation could complete, the attacker severed his head.
The body dissolved into a writhing shadow.
An Evil Eye.
The boy fell to his knees, crying.
The cloaked man stepped forward and removed his hood and blindfold.
It was the knight.
One of his eyes was gone. The other was completely black, its pupil glowing red.
"Don't cry," the knight said calmly. "That creature wasn't human."
He knelt beside the boy.
"What's your name?"
"Ace," the boy replied through tears.
"My name is Vargan," the knight said. "I was cast out of the kingdom because of this eye."
He touched the scar where his vision burned.
"I can see Evil Eyes… and Sages. Because of that, they feared me. They called me the Cursed Knight."
The forest wind whispered around them as Vargan stood.
"And now," he said, looking at Ace, "your story begins."