Prologue
THE DAWN OF COSMOS
At the dawn of creation,when the cosmos was a canvas awaiting the stroke of divine hands, the Gods stood as arbiters of order and guardians of balance. Their dominion over the realms was absolute, their powers unrivalled.
Yet whispers stirred against the monotony of their reign. It was said that Vordak, the God of shadows, and Kvirr, the ruler of light, shared a bond that transcended the boundaries of their essences. Their love burned bright as a secret flame in the depths of the cosmos, defying fate and the way of the Gods.
The forbidden union of light and darkness threatened to disrupt the delicate equilibrium that held the worlds in harmony. Consumed by fear and envy of their bond, the Gods conspired to keep Vordak and Kvirr apart. In their arrogance, they interfered, believing they knew best what the world needed.
The Gods designed a plan to divide the realms, erecting barriers of divine energy to separate light from darkness, keeping Vordak and Kvirr forever apart.
And love, like all things, is not immune to betrayal.
Consumed by rage and vengeance, Vordak sought to plunge the realms into eternal darkness, while Kvirr, fuelled byforgiveness and compassion, emerged as a beacon of light against the shadows.
Amidst the chaos, Vordak gained the upper hand, plunging Elgar into darkness for years. Until a glimmer of hope sparked as Kvirr sent her valkyries to defeat the horde of darkness threatening to swallow the surviving realms.
To maintain the peace, Kvirr’s magic was harnessed, and so the mundanes learned the power of light to ward off evil, accepting the role of guardians in exchange. But pride and greed whisper in the dark, feeding Vordak’s thirst for vengeance, not stopping until he gets back what he lost. So the eternal meddling of the Gods between light and darkness began a divine battle that rages to this day.
The legend of the Gods' hunger for power, forbidden love, and betrayal lives on, a testament to the eternal quest for balance. A cautionary tale for the next generations. Unfortunately, like any legend, it gets altered over time, or worse.
Forgotten…
1
Avilyna
MAKE IT MAKE SENSE
Before the screams.
Before the blood.
There was only snow.
Snowflakes drift lazily through the air, softening every edge, muting every sound. Running, my breath puffs into clouds in front of me. Stones peek out from beneath the frozen earth, guiding me toward the village beyond the trees. Above me, the sun breaks through the canopy in golden shards, catching on my blue dress where it peeks beneath the fur-lined coat.
The deep bronze of my skin stands out against the snow, one of the few gifts my mother gave me. But my deep auburn curls are a family trait passed down from some faraway relative. That’s what we concluded, since I am the only one in the family with this hair colour.
People stare.
They always do.
So I run.
I duck instinctively under low-hanging branches and leap across the narrow stream with practiced ease. I know this forest as it knows me. Slowly, the silence breaks.
Laughter, chatter and music. The forest thins, and I step into the familiar hum of the village market. Stalls line the clearing, displaying bright fabrics, strings of dried meat, roasted nuts, and precious gems meant only for nobles. The scent of cinnamon and roasted pine nuts warms the air; a promise of Grianstad just five days away.
I grin, weaving through the crowd, my boots crunching on the snow. This is my favourite time of the year. Colour and joy spill from every stall. Some merchants call my name with cheerful waves, and some grumpy ones give me a nod. In the centre stands the towering Grianstad Crann, waiting for the ornaments of gratitude and the promises to Kvirr we’ll offer on the Eve.
But then a smell hits me—spicy, sweet, overpowering. I turn before I can think, drawn to a table filled with herbs shimmering with enchantment, colourful stones that pull me in, and crystals gleaming with promises.
The essence burns, and I’m not shielding.
Dizzy, I clench my fists, forcing myself to breathe. I’m supposed to be applying my lessons on how to block my mind from this kind of spell.
I whisper the words under my breath, “Feel its energy. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to work. If you're feeling static… You’re on the right track.” The mantra my dad taught me to control my shielding pulses slowly passes through me. “Thank Kvirr,” I exhale as I regain control of my mind.
