Faul: The Reincarnation

Chapter 3: Karaza Has Fallen

The news of the fall of Karaza had spread like wildfire across all the regions of Kaar. From the great towers of the Eastern Watch to the coastal settlements near the Sea of Myros, whispers turned to loud lamentations. Karaza had fallen, and with it, hope seemed to tremble.

Even the Emperor, ruler of all ten cities of Kaar, felt a sharp pain in his chest when he heard about the death of General Frederick and his brave men. He was not a man easily shaken, but this news cut deep. For centuries, Karaza had stood as a proud beacon of resistance, a symbol of enduring strength. Though it was a small city compared to others in the empire, its men were known across the lands as unshakable warriors with hearts made of fire and loyalty carved into their bones.

“The ten cities that fell before Karaza were taken in a span of three hundred years,” the Emperor spoke in a solemn tone, standing at the edge of his throne room balcony, watching the red skies that now stained the horizon. “But Karaza… that city lasted nearly two hundred years on its own, outlasting so many others.”

He turned toward his Prime Minister, a man of wisdom and quick execution. “Send an envoy to the remaining cities of Kaar,” the Emperor commanded, his voice heavy with resolve. “Warn them to prepare themselves for a great war against the Red Death. Tell them the plague is advancing further. It will not stop until we rise together to stop it.”

The Prime Minister bowed low. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Order every city to fortify its walls. Recruit young talents from every corner. Train them. Find the knights. Seek out the sorcerers. We must not repeat the tragedy of Karaza,” the Emperor continued. He paused, then added, “And another thing. Let it be known across Kaar that any individual from Karaza shall be granted free land to settle in any city of their choosing. This is an imperial decree. Let the blood of Karaza find safety wherever it may run.”

The Prime Minister bowed once more before turning to deliver the message that would echo through the kingdom.

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Far away from the ruins of Karaza, Maria and the household arrived at their destination after weeks of travel. The road had been harsh. The wind was cold. Their hearts were heavy. But still, they moved forward, carrying within them the legacy of a fallen city and the quiet fire of survival.

The city they arrived in was unlike any they had seen before. It was known for its reclusive nature, hidden away from the common roads of war and destruction. It sat upon the peaceful Island of Shunga, surrounded by the quiet waters of the Silverlake. Though a part of Kaar, the Island of Shunga remained untouched by the hands of conflict. Here, a few thousand people lived in peace, far removed from the terrors that had gripped the rest of the continent.

Under the Emperor’s decree, the people of Shunga had welcomed the Karazans with open arms. Land was given freely. Tools were supplied. And soon, the household of Frederick found a place to begin again.

Maria worked tirelessly to help her people set up the new homes. The air was fresh, the earth rich, and for a brief moment, there was peace. Yet Maria’s heart still bore the weight of her husband’s absence. His voice haunted her dreams, his image appeared in every shadow. And though the world expected her to heal, she chose to honor him instead.

“Set up the training quarters,” she said one morning, standing at the center of their settlement, her eyes red from tears that never seemed to stop falling. “That is my husband’s wish. We must remain strong.”

The others obeyed, understanding that this was more than a command. It was a tribute. The same fire that once burned in Karaza would now live in Shunga.

And so, under Maria’s guidance, a small training ground was built at the heart of the new settlement. Wooden swords were carved. Old techniques were practiced. And though the people were far from war, they began preparing as if war had already found them.

Faul, the baby whose soul once belonged to a warrior, lay in a small cradle within one of the newly built homes. He was sound asleep, unaware of the changes in the world around him. He could not control his sleep. He never wanted to drift away, not when there was so much to understand. But his infant body was weak, and his dreams always pulled him under.

Deep within, the soul of Faul stirred. Even though his body was still small, his mind, somewhere inside, knew that something important had been lost. A light. A man. A father.

But sleep always won.

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Far away, deep in the ruins of Karaza, the battlefield lay silent.

A once vibrant city was now only a memory, its walls crumbled, its streets littered with the remnants of war. And there, on the open field where blood once flowed like rivers, lay Frederick.

His body, once torn by the claws and teeth of the Red Death, was now whole. His wounds, no matter how deep, had vanished without a trace. He had been unconscious for months, yet something within him refused to let go.

The wind howled across the broken land, stirring dust and ash. Then came the fog.

And from within the fog, a voice spoke.

“Welcome back,” it said, calm and smooth. “I knew I made the right choice in keeping you alive.”

Frederick stirred. His eyes fluttered open. The sky above him was grey. His heart beat strong. Too strong. His muscles burned with energy. His hands, once heavy with fatigue, felt as light as feathers.

“You see,” the voice continued, “we are trying to enlighten this world. To cleanse it. To get rid of all the weaknesses it clings to. And you, my friend, will be a fine instrument in that change.”

Frederick sat up, confused. The fog thickened, and a shadow stepped closer, though its shape remained unclear.

“You are welcome to the guardians of the Red Death,” the shadow said.

Frederick gasped as a new sensation shot through him. Power. Dark, pulsing power. His eyes began to glow red. He could feel something ancient filling his veins. Something unnatural.

“No,” he whispered. “I do not want this power. I want to go back to my family.”

But another voice inside him, quieter but more convincing, liked the feeling. The strength. The potential.

Out of anger, he stood and shouted at the shadow, “What did you do to me?! Give me back my body!”

With a cry of rage, he charged at the figure, swordless but determined.

But as he reached the shadow, something strange happened.

His body stopped. His knees buckled. And before he knew it, he had dropped to one knee and bowed.

He had not meant to. He had no intention of yielding. And yet, he could not stop himself.

“What is this?” Frederick demanded, panic rising in his chest. “What did you do to me?!”

The shadow moved closer and placed a hand on Frederick’s shoulder.

“Do not worry,” the shadow said gently. “I have big plans for you. In time, you will belong to me completely.”

And just like that, they vanished together into the fog.