Long time ago, before the emergence of the first humanoid races, unimaginable abominations roamed the world free of any restrain, doing as they pleased.
They were unchained, the beings made from darkness and embodiments of evil that knew nothing but to corrupt everything around them for pleasure.
Then they appeared, the purified beings of light, the first generation of giants.
No one knew where the giants came from, neither did they know who they were but if there is one thing known. It will be their unquestionable strength and intellect.
They built a society for themselves deep in the mountains, far away from the constant turmoil from the abominations of darkness until one day, the mountains crumbled and the the dark beings came for their souls.
The giants were peace loving and kind but that didn't mean they didn't know to defend themselves and soon the battles begins and over centuries grew bigger and bigger until finally,
The king of the giants led charge against the dark beings, banishing them to the lowest pits of darkest of oceans and wanting to seal them away for all eternity
But over the course of time, the giants begin changing as mutations begin occuring among them over the generations, their sizes grew smaller, their movements more nimble but their strength weaker.
And in this way the race of giants was slowly divided into many humanoid races that seperated to different corners of the world with their own community and beliefs.
Unknown to them, the darkness was recovering, regaining it's strength deep down in the pits it was sealed in for eons until at last it broke free.
The world saw the second coming of the dark ages, plagues and wars filled the world, creatures succumbed to their desires and grew greedy by the day under the Corruption.
And just when the darkness was about to strike back at the light in force, he appeared, The Last remaining half-blooded descendent of the giants, the Paragon of virtue.
Like a saint he roamed the world, destroying corruption and abominations as moved while spreading his knowledge of ancient magic, giving the people a way to fight back across the continents while training himself for the last trial that stands before him.
Behind him stood the armies of all races but alone he leapt into the lands of darkness below and slew his way to its darkest places and There he found it, the heart of chaos and the birth place of darkness.
In a battle where his lifetime of experience and efforts combined with the hope and blessings of the people battled against the physical embodiment of darkness and chaos, the world shook as the grains of time begin to stop moving and at last he emerged back. Victorious.
The darkness was now thrown back to the corrupted dimension it once came from, never to be seen again until the end of time.
Then he made his choices.
He had the power and authority to do whatever he wanted but he refused it all and went back to the same village in the mountain his ancestors lived and spent the remaining days of his life there.
And thus ends the tale of Paragon the heavenly guardian. The man who saved the world from the corruption.
Now you may be asking why I am talking about this story? Well that's because it is a story deeply related to the Paragon and you will soon come to understand why but let us first move to the one we came to see.
- Somewhere among the cliffs that span the Mountains of dread-
A single figure could be seen making his way with slow wobbling steps in white fields of pure snow atop the rocky slopes.
The figure is a boy, a adolescent boy, he is bare foot and wearing tattered torn clothes of dull teal colour, his attire similar to a farmer's but his hair was complete opposite of his clothes.
Orange and saffron coloured hair with tips of golden yellow fluttering under the cold icy winds of the mountains while shining under the bright occasional light of the sun gave him the presence of a child of light.
His face is pale, his stature hinting at starvation and illness, his teeth are shaking in the cold clacking in his mouth as he walks through the slippery slopes.
His name is Nethan, a farmer's child and a reincarnated victim of a train crash.
For the past 15 something years, his life was very decent with no big hardships and a loving family but that all changed a few weeks ago.
A plague spread to his village, many of its inhabitants falling to its clutches and taken away from the village including Nethan's parents, grandparents and a adult brother.
He himself was one of the victims but his condition didn't worsen beyond the treatable point at any moment and the only change being that his pure orange hair had begin changing.
It was the talk of the village about how out of all the survivors he was the only one who had the hair colour changes but nobody minded it.
That was until his remaining relatives and neighbours came knocking on his door alongside his two other siblings.. He was being banished.
His younger brother and older sister both greedy and inhumane people that has hid behind a kind face has spread rumours about him being the reason of the plague while using his hobby of wandering the mountains for herbs as the reason for the plague's arrival.
" Preposterous and delusions bastards, They always came begging me for treatment when one of them became sick and now. They banish me to ease their nerves." Nethan grumbled to himself in fury as he drags his battered and limping body up the mountains towards the land of dwarfs.
The villagers had not even given him any sort of tools but surviving as a herb gatherer has given him some survival experience.
Occasionally he would take a sort of berry from his small makeshift pouch and eat it, the pouch is not exactly a pouch but a small holder created from one of his sleeves. The berries were something found during one of his searches, a small food that barely fills the stomach but a sort of miracle item that keeps his body temperature stable at the cost of a constant state of drowsiness.
" I will show you Hick thatttt. I am much better, Hick than you all. " Nethan yelled to literally no one while stumbling forward like a drunk sailor.
He knew there was no one to talk to but he had to do whatever he could to keep himself awake until he reached the dwarvan lands.
He fell, he stumbled and stood up again and again until he reached small bridge between cliffs that was made from ice and frost.
The way back was a no go as the villagers will just send him away again and climbing up and down the cliff was a impossible task after eating the berries.
Resolving himself he begins walking on the frozen ice and luckily it seems strong enough to let him pass.
He beamed, a drunk smile coming to his face as kept walking and walking.
Until his misfortune finally struck again as something akin to a small earthquake shoke the cliffs and a loud sound resembling came to him.
He forgot about everything and ran forward, using every ounce of his strength to leap and cross the remaining distance but, his feet slipped.
A guest of wind knocked him onto the ice as he saw a red sky from the direction of the village with black clouds raising to the heavens.
" T, That's the-", his words were stopped in the making as the sound of breaking and emergence of cracks on the bridge of ice sent chills down his spine.
He tried to stand up and run but in the end it was futile, he was no superhuman like the knights or paladins nor was he a master of mystical arts like sorcerers or mages.
So he fell, alongside the bridge of ice, straight into a river stream between the cliffs and got hit on his head with chunk of rock hard ice and lost the final bit of concious he had left.
Falling to the darkness he was carried down the stream on a block of ice, barely out of water and suffering from extreme cold, he subconsciously begins shivering while cuddling himself on the block of ice like a wet wolf.
More and more tremors shook the earth as nearby glaciers also begins falling and the stream water begins changing its paths like a slithering snake.
New stream that were never there before got created in a instant as in the distance a single figure could be seen standing atop a winged beast spamming enough size to match several trucks in width.
He looked down at the village which failed to give him what he needed and turned to frozen peaks where he saw the dense avalanche falling down and left on top of his mount the next instant.
But Nethan's luck, which was never good, finally shone for once as the stream carried the unconscious him into a small cave where he was tossed onto the ragged rocky ground just before the avalanche covered the entrance to the cave.
"I feel a disturbance, I must s-" A figure said as he came clad in heavy armor, his eyes shining like fireflies in a lightless cave as his gaze saw through the darkness and fell on the Teen in front of him.
"A person- No, a child. Just what has befell this lands?"
The figure walks closer to Nethan, raising his hand he ignites a blue flame out of thin air, the Child's face and appearance finally come properly into view but he couldn't help but shake back in surprise.
He looked at the slowly changing hair of the visitor, the vibrant golden colour he has seen centuries ago, " I thought.. why should I care? I must first tend to his wounds, his safety comes first." He said reassuring himself before lifting the boy in his metal hands and carried him deeper into the caves.