Their battle lasted three long nights. The blows and shots followed one another with immeasurable power, devastating everything in their path, dragging the city into flames and desolation.

But in the end, as it was written, the magician was totally, irretrievably defeated. Lying on the cold, dilapidated ground atop the only place that ever wanted him, Goem, the black magician, watched the emperor slowly and inexorably approach him, his wounded body already regenerating and glowing with vigor and perfect detachment under the blinding glare of the silver armor. Finally, having arrived on top of the defeated and looking at him, alternating mockery and intolerable sneers, the sovereign put a contemptuous foot on the bruised body of his broken opponent and pointed his scepter at him.

"My plan was to get rid of you Goem. But in the end, it seems to me that it would be too great a loss, especially for the future I envision in my mind and look forward to with delight. Isn't that your opinion too, my boy? " the victorious tease inquired as he turned to his creature, who was resting victoriously on the corpse of the black beast, his beautiful shiny fur reddened by the blood of his slain foe, and answered with a neutral growl..

"And what have you finally decided to do to me, your majesty?"

"Something that is particularly close to my heart and for which you would probably have preferred death in the end."

And as he said this, he raised his head to be quite able to imagine the terrible images that filled his mind.

Taking advantage of the emperor's brief moment of inattention, the mage concentrated and deployed his last bit of strength to activate a powerful and singular spell.

"What did you just do, Goem?" the warrior of light asked, curious.

"Something I am particularly keen on and have always promised myself to do to ensure my posterity."

"I see," remarked his interlocutor, strangely amused.

Then as the spell took shape, a slight tremor like the symbol of a last breath was heard, then from the ruined ground came out four statues of giants engraved with deep arabesques. They rose, then stood up proudly and with a disconcerting intensity before heading each towards a cardinal point. Taking their respective places, they turned towards the city, and the marks engraved on their rocky bodies lit up darkly, then they opened their mouths wide and a thick fog came out, a magical fog that quickly covered the whole isolated kingdom. A little intrigued, the triumphant emperor decided to let the spell unfold, then crossing his arms, his foot still crushing his enemy, he took a lazy pause to follow the scene without showing the slightest concern as he was so confident in his immeasurable power, curious about the result. But disappointed, he shrugged his shoulders and threw a remark with a mocking disdain.

"Wait a minute? That's it!"

A venomous look answered him to which he was totally insensitive.

"I expected a little originality, Goem, but that was pretty lame. And while out of compassion and to commend your worthy efforts, I recognize that it's a pretty powerful spell, I could dispel it without a problem. But I won't," he decided after a few seconds of awkward silence, with an unreadable smile. "Besides, you know he won't be able to keep me here, one way or another, right? Nor any of my blood."

"Yes, I know that. But the others, those who are not fortunate enough to share even a drop of your blood so cursed, will remain prisoners. "

"And that gives me a wonderful idea for my next battles."

The wizard gave his opponent a piercing, hateful look, then sketched a faint, ironic smile.

"I can't believe all these idiots think you're good. If only they could see what you really are in all your darkness, a darkness so opaque that even I can't conceive it, then they'll probably lose everything that makes them genuine."

The emperor simply laughed at this suggestion and certified.

"Even their simplest smile. But don't worry, Goem," he continued with feigned seriousness, "I think they're all more or less aware of the truth already. It's just that they're too scared to admit it.

"I sincerely feel sorry for you, your majesty."

"And I thank you for that. It touches me, really."

The ruler offered him a smile of false gratitude, the same one he would later display in front of the imposing sarcophagus in which he had just locked his defeated opponent.

Then, after a last malicious greeting to the sealed prison, he left with grace and nonchalance the immense room where the magician was to rest, and closed the double door with a carefree gesture of the hand without even needing to turn around.

He walked away from the huge building built in the heart of a cursed forest, forbidden to the light, and climbed on his silver beast, which flew in the grey sky with a majestic radiance and power.

When the emperor returned to his empire, a nation whose unparalleled beauty and prosperity was famous and envied throughout the magical lands, he was acclaimed by all. His empire experienced moments of tremendous euphoria and rejoicing. His exceptional and unparalleled triumph was transcribed in golden letters and magical lights in the history books. And, at that time, no sovereign was ever more loved than him.

But when the festivities and the cries of joy finally died down, the victorious and beloved ruler went to his usual place of solitude and freedom, a hidden garden with a thousand secrets, ignored by all and protected by invincible spells. It was a huge and worrisome room, whose walls covered with sacred and moving paintings were perfectly divided into two parts.

One of them represented a kingdom of infinite light with a joyful people, living in harmony in a peaceful and prosperous kingdom led by a generous and upright ruler.

The other represented a dark kingdom, eternally devastated by the scourges of the world, where the people fought tirelessly and cruelly for everything, under the satisfied and sardonic gaze of a sadistic and tormented ruler.

The place that reflected with perfection what he was.

***

This was the story of this battle told like a fabulous tale. Then life was to resume its unchanging march and flow like rain from the magical mountains of Vaegos. Good or bad, the inexorable evolution took place, and the legend that made the magical nations tremble became a myth. And as Goemantis wished, the eternal mist preserved his broken kingdom and his life's work.

But what no one expected was that mages with the same dark souls and wrong view of things were allowed to enter this closed place of the world. And so, although the simple folk were perpetually afraid of Stanys and its great city of mists, the black magicians inspired by their defeated pioneer began to visit the legendary realm. And so, year after year, they continued to invade it for various reasons, some to seek refuge, some to exercise their magic and atrocious authority, and some simply to conduct research to strengthen the power of darkness.

But later, as the city slowly gained power and notoriety, part of the cursed place was transformed into a refuge for children that was named Athok and was given that title in name only, a monumental and atrocious fortress ruled by a dark mage whose greatest and main passion was to destroy children. A mage named Sirkol, banished from the world of magic for his unforgivable acts.