#PROLOGUE: Forgotten
…
…Once upon a time…in a starry night…the black sky suddenly…turned pink.
A flash of pink…
A city could be seen falling towards the ocean, people could be heard calling out for help.
And so…a brave warrior, ran towards the sinking city, other Okotoans would follow him to help. As he climbed the crumbling city…he saw a child, a crying child, no older than 2 years old. The child was injured. The warrior, with his tender grasp calmed the child and ran out of the city, just a few other citizens fro. The mysterious vessel escaped too.
The warrior, took care of this child, as if it was his own. Sadly…
Years had passed since the event, and yet…this remained to be unexplained…
In an attempt to seek answers the warrior, with the help of the finest mask makers and protectors, built a mask that would grant him unspeakable knowledge. However, this mask was as good as a corrupted one if not handled properly. And so, before using the mask, they built another part for it…the mask of conciousness. Together this would not only grant the user knowledge, but also the power to use it properly.
The child…now 17 years old, had found the truth about his origins. Enraged by the fact that his people had not only been oblitarated, but also lied to, used the mask of knowledge to know how to bring his people, his family back. Outraged to know that his so called father did nothing but to save a few he attacked the warrior injuring him.
The warrior, could not attack the child, not cause of his wounds, but because of the bond he had once made towards what he would call son. In a last attempt to defeat him he grabbed the other half and put it into the child, making him idle for a moment. And with all his might he punched the mask out of him, but the child had already stabbed the warrior by the time it had flown off. The child, weak and filled with rage ran away with his people as fast as he could. The warrior knowing that this act would only bring war and hatred towards the child used the two halves to remove all knowledge of his “son” from the Okotoans, except from the ones he trusted the most. And so, his last wish was to bury these masks, never to be seen again, protected by the mightiests of beasts, curses and mountains. The warrior, had not forgotten what it was like to be a hero, even at the expense of dead, he did the best decision.
"Were you one of them elder? One of the trusted ones?
“Again young one, this is nothing but a legend, take it as you wish. Anyway child, the night is upon us, it is time for you to rest. Unless you want to spend the night looking for a pink light, in which case you might regret in the morning if you don’t sleep well.”
“Hehe, you know Elder Zaku, I want to be a warrior like him when I’m older!”
Zaku stared at her for a moment.
"You surely will be a mighty warrior, but if there is one thing this island needs, and will always need, is a noble hero. And I’m sure you will become one.
Now…sleep young Eherad…"
