The world was darkness and cold stone. 

Moisture dripped through the ruined temple columns, dripping as if his herself cried. The shattered marble floor was covered by old moss and dead leaves. The only light came from the broken ceiling, where the full moon stalled with silent eyes. 

A property still lay in the center of the hall, lying between wild herbs and dry bones. His chest was slow and down slowly, as if waking from a sleep that had lasted centuries. A raven perceived at the top of a grasnou pillar, and the sound echoed between the broken arches. 

- ... Axiel ... 

The name escaped his cracked lips without him knowing why. It was all I knew. 

Axiel. 

He sat slowly, with his muscles ranging like old hinges. It was naked, pale as newly created corpse, black hair stripped by covering part of the face. His red eyes shone in the dark like hidden embers. The air was heavy, and the smell of dry blood mixed with damp stone made your stomach turn ... or would it be desired? 

He touched his own chest and felt the slow but firm beats. 

- I'm ... alive? 

Or something close to that. 

He stood up, and his bare feet found stone shards and branches. I didn't feel pain. The body seemed different. Denser, stronger. But there was a huge emptiness inside him. A deaf hunger. A hole in the chest where the soul should be. 

He walked through the temple corridors, where beheaded statues looked at nothing. The stained glass windows were broken, the sacred images desecrated by the passage of time and war. In a pedestal, a fallen silver cross lay pieces on the floor. As he approached, he felt his skin burning. 

He retreated with a grunt. 

- Silver ...? 

A primitive instinct warned him - that would kill him. But why? What was he? 

His hands trembled. The nails had stretched, black, sharp. A flash of pain crossed his mind and, for a moment, disconnected images came up: a woman with golden hair, a child crying, flames, shouts. Everything went out with the same sudden silence with which it arose. 

Later, he found a broken mirror. The glass reflected only part of his face - the red eyes, the cold, inhuman expression. But the absence of reflection in the rest was clear. He was there ... but not completely. 

- What am I? 

The question was lost in the echo of the vault. But the temple did not answer. 

Suddenly he heard a whisper from the shadows. 

- You woke up ... good, it was taking too long ... 

Axiel turned, ready to attack, but saw no one. He felt something go through his skin. An aura. An ancient and wicked presence that the temple was trying to contain but grew in darkness. 

He fell to his knees, the world spinning. His throat burned. Thirst. A atrocious headquarters. 

Outside, the night wind howled between the rubble. There was a dense forest outside, and maybe ... maybe blood. 

But he didn't want to leave. Not yet. 

There, in the center of sacred ruin, it was as if a forgotten part of himself whisper: 

"You died. You were reborn. And now ..." 

Axiel raised his face, bloody eyes aiming at the moonlight. 

From there, nothing more would be the same. 

... 

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