Four hundred years ago, behind the crumbling stone of a ruined mansion, five tombs stood in a silent, jagged line. Each was watched over by the stone effigy of a warrior deity, their faces weathered by time and grief.
Under a sky as black as ink, a man bathed in a faint, rhythmic golden light knelt before the center tomb. His fingers dug into the cold earth as he wept.
"Why won't you kill me?" he screamed, his voice cracking against the silence. "Why won't you just let me die? Why?!!"
He collapsed, his forehead pressing into the dirt. "Please... just let me be with my brothers."
No voice answered. The only response was a sudden, distant crack of thunder that tore through the heavy air. As the rain began to fall, the man looked up. The droplets felt unnaturally cool and gentle against his skin—a phantom touch that reminded him of his younger brother, the Water Deity.
Through the haze of his grief, a memory flickered: five hands joined together, a shared oath whispered in the dark. They had promised to find one another again. They had promised to wait for the day their King, Suren, would draw breath once more.