Song of the Fallen
When the shadows of the past awaken, the truth becomes the most dangerous weapon.
Chapter 1
by 
191928
Prologue: Song of the Fallen
The night over the kingdom of Ardyn was deep and starless, as if the darkness itself had spread across the sky in ink. Only the flickering torches on the walls of Castle Meir cast fragile reflections of light in the distance, but even they seemed weak under the pressure of the gathering silence.
The wind whistled over the old pines in the Ancient Forest, as if the spirits of ancient warriors were singing their forgotten song. Somewhere in the shadows of the trees, the undead lurked, their dead eyes glittering like coals, waiting for those who dared to set foot in her domain.
On a high cliff, in the ruins of an old temple, a lone figure bent over an ancient altar. It was a woman wrapped in a gray cloak, from under which strands of dark hair escaped. Her face was hidden by a mask decorated with patterns, like a spider web woven from silver. In her hands she held a dagger, an artifact from another age, long lost to mortals. His blade glittered with a dim blue light, like moonlight on the smooth surface of a lake.
"It's time," she whispered, as if speaking not to herself, but to something hidden in the shadows, "everyone must return."
At that moment, the dagger shone brighter, as if something had awakened in its ancient metal. The woman lifted it over the altar and drew a sign in the air that was forgotten even by the oldest magicians. The air around her trembled, and the world froze for a moment, as if afraid of what was coming.
Thunder rolled from the sky, although neither clouds darkened the sky, nor a thunderstorm threatened the lands. Somewhere far away in the mountains, an ancient gate, resting for thousands of years, opened with a prolonged screech. Ardin's world shuddered as the shadows of the past were once again woven into the fabric of the present.
The woman put away the dagger and said with cold confidence:
"We'll come back for what's ours. And may kings, gods, and mortals tremble, for there is no stopping us."
The wind howled harder, and with it something ancient awoke—a **** that had always slept on the edge of the worlds, but now found its way back. And ahead, beyond the horizon, a fiery gleam flashed: a signal bonfire in Meira. The castle was preparing for war.