Soarelle's Curse: Fall of Hyedn Meunel Caatoben̂

The Discovery of Apostates

Long ago, back during the days of the Blackhand Trials. While hunting for dissidents around the Luminous Empire, Blackhand Captain Hyedn Meunel Caatoben̂ encountered something quite alarming in the Imperial Westlands.   He found a gathering of apostates.   Prince Hyedn and his band surveyed the camp of the apostates. There, they saw tribe elders, wandering witches, and bloodmarked youths. Though heretical, there were always backsliders hiding among the muck. It was nothing too unusual. Not until the chief of their ilk stood before them.   An aged man?  

Secret Encounter: Itrasgol Fŕantes

One draped in fresh, silken fúntessicgeli. Snowy white, like the clouds. Bright tassels of scarlet and saffron from head to toe. Around his neck, a blackened rosary carved from duskwood and redthorn, representing balance and duality. What this elder man wore was the traditional garb of a noble agent, a member of the Imperial Synod. The man who stood before Hyedn was Itrasgol Fŕantes, former head orator of the Imperial Synod. Yet more importantly, Hyedn's missing master.   Prince Hyedn was beyond infuriated. How could his old mentor betray the Empire like this!?   But Old Itrasgol welcomed his former student with open arms. Sir Fŕantes told Hyedn of his departure from the Synod. Itrasgol explained why he left all those years ago without a word. He wove an intricate tale of his sorcerous enlightenment. And how, after finally breaking through the barrier of semi-sagehood. He felt immense serenity. Yet in doing so, in becoming a true sage, the Veilfather had revealed vague secrets of the future to him.  

Itrasgol’s Revelation: A future yet to come

"A young lady wearing a crown of summer, a stranger usurping a budding winter, a child holding the sun and moon, and a divine harmony reborn after deep bloodshed."

  Hyedn glared at his old mentor in confusion. As nothing that crazed, old fool had said made any sense. And yet Old Fŕantes stood there as if his business with the prince was over. Had he truly gone insane? Hyedn gripped his sallow-colored sword, carved of the finest twin-hand, a gift from his master. And with a heavy heart, Prince Hyedn branded the group as heretics against the Creed.   Traitors to the Empire.  

The Tragic Confrontation

He nodded to his Blackhand unit, ordering them to execute the entire group. The prince pulled out his wooden blade, endowed with his sorcery, prepared to slay Old Itrasgol. Even though Sir Fŕantes should be a sage, the very pinnacle of sorcerous power, he'd only just arisen. Prince Hyedn, a master sorcerer, thought maybe he stood a chance. So with thrust, he struck out at his old master. And yet something was wrong. Hyedn's blade pierced the heart of the old orator with minimal effort. How?   Hyedn glared at the elder, "You? WHY!?"   Old Itrasgol answered not. He just looked at the prince and gave him a warm and loving smile before his body faded into nothingness. Hyedn dropped his twin-hand blade, his palms slick with sweat, his heart thundering. The prince turned to his men, seeing Fŕantes' group of apostates already dead.  

The Ones Left Behind: The Curse of Soarelle

The Blackhand unit left. Hyedn would try to leave this encounter behind, but what he did not know was that there was a survivor of this massacre.   Itrasgol's granddaughter, Asfeyá. And she would search for him, wearing the mythic identity of Witch Soarelle.   Many decades later, retribution would find Prince Hyedn. Asfeyá would place a powerful curse upon his very soul.