He didn't remember how many times spring had replaced autumn, and the migratory birds and graceful sunbeams that briefly rested on his mighty shoulders did not move his rock heart. He was a four-armed creature hewn out of stone, a statue sculpted by an unknown artist and left to stand in the forests of Wilheim since time immemorial. The immobile giant, armed with spears, had carried out this silent duty for decades. Neither the vicious blizzards, nor the pounding rain, nor the icy wind beating at his back could disturb his peace. Sometimes wars would break out in nearby regions, or some careless traveler would accidentally start a forest fire — throughout all, the stone giant's immobile face showed no signs of interest or concern. Thus the years passed, until one day a girl, her hair dishevelled and her eyes wild with fear, appeared from out of nowhere and collapsed, exhausted, at the statue's feet.

Her body was covered in cuts and bruises, and her clothes were stained with blood. But even in such a state, it was hard not to notice the beauty of the stranger: divine features, beautiful brown eyes with thick eyelashes, a pert figure and delicate hands.

Her lifeless body sprawled on the ground, breaking the usual serenity of the forest, while the statue towered above her in perfect indifference. The stranger's pale skin, the crimson splashes on her white dress — there was something so surreal about this scene, so disturbing.

Suddenly, the girl's eyelids fluttered, and a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. Her bloody lips forced out a hoarse whisper: "Letitia...Robert...baby Jocelyn...Mom, Mommy!" Had it started to rain? A careful observer might have noticed a single drop rolling down the cold cheek of the unmoving warrior.

"My dear home, my betrothed... where are you?" the wounded stranger's broken voice continued, a single unearthly sound in the silence of the forest. "The Darkness has destroyed everything I loved... and now it wants... my soul..."

The statue's massive hand suddenly shuddered, as if it were alive. Or was it just the fine craftsmanship finally starting to show signs of age?

Just then, the stately figure of a tall woman in black robes appeared mysteriously from among the trees.

"Ah, there you are, my dear!" she said with a smirk, taking a step forward. "The last survivor of the Wilheim scum... well, fate has dealt you a difficult hand, hasn't it?"

"Sylfide..." the girl croaked, excruciating pain evident on her face. "No matter how many of our lives and souls you take, you'll never be satisfied, because you're empty inside... empty... and hateful... the Spawn of Darkness will always be hungry for more..." She tried to get up from the ground, glaring at her attacker with fierce resolve, despite the blood steadily soaking her dress.

A frown appeared on the face of the woman in black, and between her hands a black lightning bolt appeared, crackling with energy.

"Perish, Light!" she shrieked, and thrust the fatal bolt into her victim's chest with a horrific sizzling sound.

The girl was thrown backwards, splattering the pale marble of the statue with blood, and came to her final rest on the forest floor, her eyes still wide with shock, a gaping black hole burned into her chest. Her arms were splayed wide, and resting in her open palm was a heart-shaped pendant engraved with the name "Dante", faded from the passage of time. The sorceress of Darkness straightened up and smirked again, satisfied. Her task accomplished, she turned to leave.

Suddenly, a brilliant light flashed out from the weapons in the hands of the statue, illuminating the dim forest surroundings. He shuddered, shook his head as if trying to remember something, and then swiftly raised one of his spears and hurled it at the killer. The woman in black whirled around in astonishment, stared at her previously immobile attacker, then looked down to see the spear sticking out of her chest. She barely had time to realize what had happened before she sank to the ground, releasing a deathly sigh.

The stone warrior, experiencing with a rush the sensations of the living after so many years of cold sleep, leaned over the dead girl at his feet and stroked her head. Then he took the pendant from her hand, straightened up, and declared to the forest around him: "The pain of another has touched me, has brought me to life. But what good is life, if it is used to take the lives, feelings, and souls of others? Better in that case to be a stone statue. I do not know who this girl was, but she will live inside of me from this day forth. From now on, I will call myself Dante, and fiercely oppose anyone who preys on the weak and defenseless. I will become a protector of the Light!"