On Duskreach’s zenith—beneath the gaze of Sun Presence himself—the purest and most powerful of all Vessels was born.
Pure Vessel was no ordinary Lightbearer. From birth he was destined for greatness. He came into the world not only with the light that could annihilate demons, but also with the Light Soul—the ultimate weapon against the dark.
It was a boundary-shattering power, capable of unleashing ruinous, destructive force. Because of it, Pure Vessel grew with breathtaking speed into the champion his people had hoped for.
He was set apart, isolated from everyone so he could focus solely on training and strength.
Day after day he endured brutal regimens—from countless martial disciplines to bodies-of-iron drills no one else could survive. His program was anything but normal; the commanders of the Vessels pressed him on purpose to learn his limits. Each time he completed their trials, they brought him harsher ones—tasks that would break any other Vessel. None could keep pace; all collapsed halfway through.
Amazingly, Pure Vessel bore them all and finished each one flawlessly, no matter the difficulty. He mastered everything set before him—so completely that he learned to invoke his Domain at a very young age.
The Domain was the Lightbearers’ strongest weapon—what Snow Leonhart calls the War King’s Form—but the true Domain is far stronger; Snow’s form is only a spark by comparison. The golden runes that manifest with the Domain grant Lightbearers unprecedented might, multiplying what they can output many times over.
In Pure Vessel’s case, the Domain returned even more than it did for the rest of his kind.
Thus he forged his strength and began to make a name for himself. But the road was desolate, steeped in loneliness—shaping the quiet nature that kept him distant from his peers. Other Vessels tried to approach him at first, but after being crushed by his overwhelming talent, a gulf opened between them. Rather than draw near and try to understand him, they treated him like something sacred, living in a world apart. The gap was vast; anyone who tried to get close was forced to face how small they were beside the purest, mightiest Vessel.
Such was the solitude that came with overwhelming power—and it marked Pure Vessel’s earliest days.
That solitude forged his singular temperament... but it did not last.
Yes, he was treated differently, and most lacked the nerve to approach him. But not all.
Among them, another Vessel appeared. He was neither noble nor beautiful like Pure Vessel. He was plainly of lesser quality, and his talent could not compare. And yet—though obviously inferior—he completed everything Pure Vessel did, without failing.
"Ha! Look at that! You thought you were the only special one? There’s nothing you can do that I can’t!"
He was a strange one—brazen enough to defy his superiors and ignore their orders.
Somehow that chaotic, flawed Vessel managed to keep pace with the one hailed as the greatest in history. It was the first meeting between Pure Vessel and his only friend: Broken Vessel.
Broken was the only one bold enough to approach him, to force a rapport—and no one could stop him. His talent lagged far behind, yet he climbed to a level of strength near Pure Vessel’s, so no one could bar his way. Pure himself didn’t object. Taciturn as he was—rarely showing his true feelings—the presence of Broken Vessel, and the nuisance he brought, was in its way... welcome.
In time the two became inseparable. They trained together, lived together, spent their days in Fellwyn—the cold training complex where Vessels spent their entire childhood, to be fielded in war later.
Vessels were not like other Lightbearers roaming free; they remained confined to Fellwyn until their steel was tempered and they were worthy to become the Light’s strongest knights—the ones who fought the fiercest, most terrifying demons.
It was a bleak childhood most could not bear; many Vessels broke along the way and could not endure. Yet among them, Pure Vessel and Broken Vessel were the pair that drew every eye—an odd duo: one loud and unruly, the other calm and noble.
They stayed side by side, always training together.
They fought dozens of bouts, and Pure Vessel won them all. Broken never once defeated him—and he would cause a ruckus every time he lost.
"Another match!!" he demanded each time Pure slammed him to the floor. Pure—cold and unyielding—accepted every rematch, no matter how many, and won them all. Once, he wiped the floor with Broken more than a hundred times in a row.
"Are you all right?" Pure Vessel asked it often at the end of every spar, every drill they endured together.
"Get away from me, damn you! I swear I’ll beat you one day!"
That was usually the answer—one that drew a gentle smile to Pure’s face, every time.
Then they grew. Pure’s regimen grew harsher still—designed for him alone, far beyond what other Vessels faced. Broken Vessel was the only one reckless enough to try to follow it with him.
At first, his only friend could keep pace. But as time passed, the distance between them widened, and Broken began to struggle beneath that hellish training.
While Broken was gasping—collapsed on the ground, unable even to catch his breath—Pure would often sit beside him and wait for him to rise again.
Pure never spoke about himself. He would simply fall quiet and listen to Broken’s rambling. Yet he seemed to accept—and be grateful for—the presence of that noisy nuisance in his life.
"Are you all right?"
Those words were heard again and again, because Pure had always asked Broken that question.
At first, Broken took it for pity, or even mockery, and over time that seeded a sour resentment in his heart—especially once he could no longer keep pace.
Inside the bleak training complex of Fellwyn, the world seemed to begin and end within its walls.
In the beginning, Broken didn’t understand Pure at all; he stuck to him purely out of rivalry. He wanted to prove that a Broken Vessel—the lesser, the defective—could do everything that noble being, the one everyone fussed over, could do.
Later, as their friendship deepened, Broken began to grasp what Pure truly was.
It happened on a day he challenged him again—only this time the battle was different.
The gap between them had widened; Broken could barely keep up. He snapped, fighting in despair to defeat him, and the duel became a fight to the death.
As their blades crashed and their light scorched everything around them, Broken hit the lowest point of his life, throwing everything he had into the struggle.
"I tried too... I know I was born beneath you, but I kept trying and trying... yet my light stayed dim and paltry beside yours!"
With every clash, his true feelings broke the surface.
"I tried to reach you, to understand you... For that alone I worked hundreds of times harder than the other Vessels—just to prove to the whole world, and to you, that even a lowly vessel like me can reach that realm, that world nobles like you live in!
"But what did I get for all that effort—for all that pain?
"No matter how I tried, I was only chasing your back from afar... and at some point even your back vanished from sight. You soared away, leaving me down here in the abyss!"
BOOM!!
When the fight reached its end, Broken hadn’t even managed to touch Pure.
"Tell me, Pure Vessel... did my existence mean anything? Did my effort, my struggle, ever reach you? Did you care at all?
"Tell me! I couldn’t understand you no matter how hard I tried!"
He shouted with everything in him—but no answer came.
In the end, Broken fell onto his back, spent and powerless, and waited for Pure to deliver the last blow and finish him—he was the one who’d made it a death match, after all.
But the mercy shot never came.
Instead, Pure Vessel came and sat beside him, and asked the same question he always had:
"Are you all right?"