The Seven Voices in the dark world
Chapter 1: The Awakening of Harmony
Long ago, before songs were forgotten and melodies were buried beneath fear, the kingdom had been known as the Kingdom of Melody. Music once flowed through the air like life itself. It moved the winds, warmed the flames, nourished the earth, and lit the sky with invisible power. But that time had ended long ago, when the dark sorcerer Zarkan rose to power and declared music a crime. Anyone caught singing would face death. Since then, the kingdom had lived in silence.
In a small, quiet village far from the capital, an eighteen-year-old boy named Arin lived a simple life. He carried water, helped farmers in the fields, and tried not to attract attention like everyone else. Yet there was always something different about him. Sometimes when the wind passed through the hills, he felt as if it was whispering to him. Sometimes when he touched the river, he could almost hear a faint rhythm in the water. He never spoke about it to anyone, because strange things often brought trouble.
One afternoon, while Arin was carrying a bucket of water from the well, he suddenly stopped walking. A strange sound reached his ears. It was soft at first, like a distant echo, but it felt familiar in a way he could not explain. It was a melody. The sound seemed to move with the wind, circling him quietly. Arin looked around in confusion, wondering if someone else could hear it. The water inside his bucket trembled slightly as the melody grew stronger.
“Arin!” his friend called from behind him. “Why are you standing there?”
Arin turned slowly. “Don’t you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
The melody suddenly vanished. The air became silent again. Arin stared at the empty road, unsure whether what he had heard was real or simply his imagination.
Before he could answer, the ground began to shake slightly under heavy footsteps. Several dark armored soldiers marched into the village, carrying the black symbol of Zarkan on their cloaks. Fear spread instantly among the villagers. People lowered their heads and stepped away from the road.
The captain of the soldiers stepped forward and shouted, “By the order of Lord Zarkan, music remains forbidden. Anyone caught singing or playing an instrument will be punished by death.”
The villagers stayed silent. No one dared to respond.
Suddenly, a small girl standing near her mother began humming softly without realizing it. It was only a tiny sound, barely more than a whisper, but one of the soldiers heard it. He grabbed the girl by the arm and pulled her forward.
“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t mean to!”
The soldier raised his sword.
Before anyone could move, Arin stepped forward. “Stop!”
The soldier looked at him with amusement. “You dare interrupt the law of Zarkan?”
Arin’s heart pounded in his chest. Fear told him to stay quiet, but something deeper inside him refused to remain silent.
The soldier shoved him hard, throwing him to the ground. The villagers gasped but did nothing.
As Arin pushed himself up, the strange melody returned again—louder this time. It filled his mind like a rising tide. The wind began to swirl slowly around him, lifting dust from the ground.
Without understanding why, Arin opened his mouth and sang a single note.
The sound was powerful and deep, echoing through the street like thunder hidden inside a melody.
Suddenly the air exploded outward. A strong wave of wind burst from Arin and slammed into the soldiers, knocking them backwards. The bucket of water flew from his hand and shattered against the ground.
The entire village fell silent in shock.
A golden symbol slowly appeared on Arin’s hand, glowing faintly like warm sunlight.
Arin stared at it, terrified. “What… did I just do?”
Before anyone could answer, flames suddenly erupted nearby, forming a wall of fire between the soldiers and the villagers. The heat forced the soldiers to step back.
From the crowd, a girl walked forward calmly. Her eyes reflected the firelight, and the flames seemed to move as if obeying her.
“My advice,” she said quietly, “is that you leave this village.”
She snapped her fingers, and the fire rose higher.
The soldiers exchanged nervous glances.
“Retreat!” the captain ordered.
Within seconds they ran out of the village, disappearing down the road.
The flames slowly faded.
The villagers looked between Arin and the mysterious girl, whispering nervously.
Arin approached her carefully. “You… you did that?”
She raised her hand slightly. On her palm, a glowing red mark appeared—the same symbol Arin carried, but burning like fire.
She looked at his golden mark and smiled faintly.
“So,” she said, “you’re one of them.”
“One of who?” Arin asked.
“The Voices.”
Later that night, the two of them sat outside the village near a small fire. The sky above them was filled with stars, and the wind moved quietly through the hills.
“I don’t understand anything,” Arin admitted. “Music is forbidden. Everyone knows that. So why can we do this?”
The girl drew a circle in the dirt using a small stick.
Inside the circle she drew six symbols.
“Fire. Water. Wind. Earth. Light. Shadow.”
“These are the six elemental voices,” she explained. “People born with these powers are rare… and hunted.”
Then she left an empty space in the center of the circle.
“And according to an ancient legend,” she continued, “there is a seventh voice. The one that connects them all.”
Arin stared at the empty space.
The wind passed through the hills again, carrying the faint echo of a melody.
“I think…” Arin said slowly, “that voice might be mine.”
Far away in the capital city, inside a dark castle tower, a tall figure sat upon a throne of black stone. The sorcerer Zarkan slowly opened his glowing eyes.
He could feel it.
A new power had awakened somewhere in the kingdom.
He smiled.
“So the voices are rising again,” he murmured.
Outside, lightning flashed across the sky.
“Good,” Zarkan whispered. “I will gather their power… and silence the world forever
TO BE CONTINUED
