Prologue: Alive.

It is close to midnight, when the young woman's light footsteps make themselves heard in the darkness of my minuscule cell.

No words are said-such formalities are unnecessary in our situation, at least in this we both agree. Hidden in shadows, only her eyes – which are of a rare, intense and bright blue, much like small sapphires - are visible in the sparse light that penetrates through the window's thick grilles.

Sometimes I wonder what they actually see in my person: a shadow from a distant past? A symbol of glory long discarded? Perhaps a bloodthirsty tyrant who actually deserved his cruel fate, sentenced to rot on this cold, rocky island forgotten even by the gods?

Or maybe what she sees is merely a decrepit, reeking old man- dirty and infirm-not even capable of move out of his own piss and filth anymore.

Silence reigns uncontested in the small room, interrupted only by my faint, wheezing breath and the sound of pages being turned. Reading again, I presume-a queer strategy of hers to try and force me to speak first. The abhorrent smell does not seem to bother her, much surprisingly.

I suppose the stench of death would never affect people like us.

"You're dying." Two words-is all she has to say. The girl's eyes are stuck in the book- which I must confess to be quite impressive. Not even in my youth, would I be able to read in such gloom.

"Indeed." Is my feeble response, half-coughed, half-spoken. Droplets of a stinking, black liquid cover the hand I use to cover my mouth. With a faint growl, I brusquely wipe them off on the dirty rags they gave me to wear, not caring if it'd only stain the fabric even more. "My time in this miserable world is finally coming to an end ..."

Even more silence follows, and, exhausted, I close my eyes and lean against the rough wall to rest my old bones. The sound of her reading is like a lullaby in this hellish place, and soon- I fall into the welcoming arms of a comfortable and invigorating nap.

When I finally come back to my senses, I feel the soft palm of J's hand resting upon my exposed, bony chest. Awake once more, I slowly open my eyes, letting my gaze meet hers-both equally icy and calculating, even though I'm more than six times her age. Under the pale moonlight, the girl's fine, delicate features are much more visible, and I can't help but find her an exquisite beauty.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Checking to see if you were dead." Is her cold, serene response- her voice almost inaudible, even in such a calm and silent night. She then adjusts her glasses, before slowly pulling away back to her stool. "I'll not let you die until you accept my offer, Demon Emperor."

Ah, Demon Emperor. That is, indeed, a name I have not heard in a very long time. Glorious, indisputably, is the title that both subjects and enemies gave me at the apex of my reign. Such were the power and fear inspired by my person at the time, that even the most daring opponents only dared to whisper such a soubriquet when they made sure I would not be able hear them in the vast corridors of the famed White Lotus Palace.

At least that's what they thought. A wise ruler has more than a thousand eyes and ears, especially at Court…

"Demon Emperor huh?" I let out a nostalgic sigh, which sounds more like a wheeze with the water plaguing my sick lungs. "Those were times of majesty and grandiose. I was just about to bring true Order to this rotten world. The Divine-Emperor... Son of Heaven and ... lawful sovereign of everything under the sky..."

It was a Golden Age for the Empire – an era when the highest symbol of Jiansui was worshiped as the God-on-Earth. An era now buried deep inside the past after a mere defeat - by weak men, nonetheless, men inspired by ideals like ... Freedom, may Court Sages forgive me.

A nation of great warriors had now been turned into a meek herd of sheep. Despicable.

"Do you accept it?" J inquires, waking me from my- now frequent- reveries, the girl's beautiful blue orbs now closer than before. Her origins, much like her real name, are still a mystery to my person- though I'm certain that people like her do not exist anywhere on the Continent of Jade, or even in the entirety of Ealim. "Will you be the new Gandálfr ?"

Again, an offer to get out of this prison. According to her, Gandálfr is a sort of heroic figure- almost like Jiansui's Hirojin, if the stories she told are at least half-true. The name apparently means "the Left Hand of God"…

To me, however, it was just another silly legend, much like the stories Kaguya used to read when we were children.

"I refuse," I respond acidly- though not so harsh as to be rude. Mysterious or not, the girl still would not make me believe in childish stories about magic, dragons, knights and heroes. "I do not know what trick you use to ... pass through the guards ... but I'm too old to believe in such things."

"Haven't I shown you my magic already?" J rebukes, arching his eyebrows. A single movement of her hands, and a thin crystal of ice forms over her extended palm-rhomboid in shape, the construct seems almost unnatural, even in a harsh winter such as this. "Your strong will is admirable, lord Shun." She continues; her voice as calm and objective as that of a professional radio broadcaster. "Yet, for how long will you refuse to acknowledge the truth?"

'Truth?' I wanted to reply. 'The truth is that concepts like Magic serve only to soften humanity's hypochondria. This is the real world, a world where weapons and willpower-not wands and spells-win wars, where legends are built of blood...and steel. What is a Hero for some people is the Villain to many more. '

Yet a small part of me, much to my displeasure, believed in her words. It believed in the perspective of starting over, of having a new chance to finally turn into reality my reason to exist: bringing order to a chaotic and filthy world, no matter what the cost.

And it was this part, irrational and impulsive, that won the battle within the confines of my mind. Two words come out of my mouth; two syllables that would, indirectly, change the course history for a whole society. "Show me."

Even with a hazy vision, I can see the pleased smile forming on the woman's thin lips.

"Very well," J replies, satisfied. "But first, how about I make you more presentable, or even better ..."

Her small hand lands upon my chest and, almost immediately, I feel the intense flux of energy running through the entirety of my being-like an electric current. It makes me feel stronger, healthier ... it makes me feel ... alive.

"... I'll bring back the Dragon within you, Emperor Raisun."

A/N: Hey there guys, Wildfurion here.

I've recently found this story in my archives, though it was in Portuguese (which is my mother tongue)- so I had to edit and translate it before publishing.

Basically, this is the story of the fallen Emperor of a country named Jiansui- which, after a technological and social revolution- attempted to achieve dominance over the continent and, eventually, the entire world. More will be explained next chapter, which will be about the Summoning Rite.

Oh yeah, I haven't had any time to update my other stories- as College is going kind of harsh upon me recently. Can't wait for vacation, lol.

Listening to: Fall out Boy- Centuries.

Doing: Studying about Lupus.

Status: Tired lol.

Wildfurion