ZOLA - BAR REFICUL
In the heart of Midgard, where the veils of reality shimmer like starlit gossamer, the Phoenix sage Awisk, radiant and untamed, was granted a rare moment of reprieve by his master. Charged to lie low while cosmic tides shifted, he defied the stillness, drawn instead to the fabled Bar Reficul—a haven of enchantment where desires take form.
Within his opulent chambers, Awisk wove a Mirroring spell, a delicate incantation that unveiled the receiver's realm, blending their spaces into one ethereal plane. The air rippled as the spell took hold, and a voice, warm yet edged with caution, pierced the silence.
"Phoenix, you revel in this house of pleasures, the realm's most bewitched sanctuary, your spirit ablaze this hour," spoke Dahlek, son of Horrwir, the gardener whose roots entwined with the cosmos itself.
Awisk's lips curled into a defiant smile, his orange eyes glinting like twin suns. "Alive, yes—how could I not be? Do you think I should linger in shadows, doing naught? I could aid Eden against the Takers, restore Osiver's sight…"
Dahlek's voice grew grave, a whisper of warning carried on a spectral breeze. "Yet you cannot halt the Darkest One should he turn his gaze upon you. Stir him too greatly, and his dread will find you."
Awisk laughed, a sound like embers crackling in a divine hearth. "Kill me? I am a Phoenix, Dahlek. I'd wager I could face him. I could save dying stars across the cosmos, instead of idling on midgard"
"Come to my Garden, then," Dahlek urged, his tone softening with nostalgia. "We could traverse the realms as we once did, you and I, unbound by time's chains."
"Tempting," Awisk mused, his voice tinged with mischief, "but the last time you beckoned, a belief warrior nearly claimed your head. Let's temper our realm-skipping for now. I'll linger here today, and we shall see what the fates unveil. Stay safe, old friend."
With a flicker, the Mirroring dissolved, and Awisk turned to the marvel awaiting him. Laileb, a mistress conjured from the depths of his imagination, glided through Bar Reficul. Her presence was a spell in itself, her form shimmering with allure that left mortals and immortals alike breathless with awe and desire. Awisk, ever the gentleman, drew her close—one hand on her waist, the other spinning her gracefully, her hair a cascade of starlight that dazzled the room. Together, they wove through the day in an intimate dance, their connection a fleeting hymn to the divine.
Two hours later, they reclined upon a bed of roses, conjured by the bar's enchantments, petals drifting from the ceiling like whispers of forgotten gods. Awisk, the realm's most striking figure, surpassed even the breathtaking Elañorr. His dark-toned skin gleamed like polished obsidian, his golden-blond curls framed a face of chiseled perfection, and his orange eyes burned with otherworldly fire. At six feet, his presence was both commanding and serene.
Propped on his elbows, Awisk gazed into Laileb's eyes, her nervous smile betraying a secret. "Why do you cloak your true form to please me?" he murmured, his voice a velvet incantation.
Laileb faltered, her shimmer dimming slightly. "I'm not afraid of you, Phoenix, but… I'm not ready for this conversation. Not yet."
Awisk's gaze softened, though his words carried a gentle challenge. "I am a Phoenix, Laileb, bound to this masculine form by choice. If it suits you as well, shed this illusion. Be what you want to be."
Silence fell, heavy with unspoken truths, as they lingered in the rose-strewn sanctum, the air thick with magic and the weight of destinies yet unwritten.
The 6th Realm.
The blackened walls of the forsaken castle howl with tormented echoes, heralding the return of the Darkest One to his accursed throne. His vision burns with unholy clarity, a mind forged in malice now set on a path of relentless vengeance. Lonshean lies obliterated, her soul shattered beyond the veil of life and death, scattered into the abyss of the unknowable. The westerners languish, ensnared by the Phoenix Sage's cruel machinations, while Saguel, broken but defiant, has fled to her ancestral homeland with her mother. The Darkest One stands nearly alone, his allies dwindling, yet his enemies' victories are shadowed by his own triumphs: the tower reduced to rubble and the Third Realm cast into ruin.
Saguel, once shattered by the annihilation of the Darkest Tempest, has transcended her former self. No longer bound by the Eth Glamour's fleeting sorcery, she is reborn as the Blood Mage, her power drawn from the ancient, primal roots of her lineage—a force that pulses with dread and dominion. Even from Midgard's shadowed plains, her burgeoning might reverberates through the Eth Glamour, a tremor felt in its very core. With a single, imperious thought, the Darkest One summons her to his side, his will a chain that binds the fates of all
" Your failure to get me the child of love is concerning but your rise to an even greater level of power concerns me even more, what shall I make of it my loyal servant" The Eth Gamour asked, Saguel having her head upright unlike before when it was mostly downwards, then when she couldn't dare cross eyes with the face of the darkest one, now she has looked upon the face of the leviathan and has seen horror beyond horrors, she was a different level of beast.
" The child possess great powers Sire, even greater power than weilded as the void, I failed to get her even myself, I was completely weakened after the mysterious destruction of the darkest tempest" Saguel
" There is no mystery in that Saguel, every now and then, extremely powerful beings are born and with such extreme power comes their short lives, which must be marked by a cosmic event, the newborn was one, but you weild even far more power than before Saguel, you stand before me, gazing into death beyond death, I can feel your power, it calls to me, to reach in myself and touch it!!!" The Eth Gamour said telekinetically drawing Saguel closer to him, he sends a psychic projection of himself towards her from the throne, touching her on the forehead and she felt a rush of unfathomable power, it was incomprehensible and infinite, she gasped deeply as he reached deep into her being, reached deep into the very source of her powers, beyond the multiverse, beyond the void at the centre of it all, into an unnatural plane of afterlife created just "below" the multiverse. A feat of ancient magic, he accessed the ancestral plane, where he came face to face with over a hundred ancient dead mages, all connected using powerful blood magic, his presence was altering the entire plane and just then did the Eth Gamour stand before Ruth. The Dark Mother of Saguel. She levitated with her legs crossed over a bowl of blood, magical dark and red runes all around her as she psychically linked with the sisters of the ancestral plane, banishing the Eth Gamour from the plane which he was quickly corrupting. His projection was banished right back into him on his darkest throne. Seeing the roots and depths of Saguel's new found power, he gave an eerie smile. Dismissing Saguel.
" What about the girl?" Saguel asked
" You have failed me twice already Saguel, leave the girl to me, I will handle her myself!" The Eth Gamour.
TEMPLE OF ASTENA - WESONS
In the tender embrace of dawn, when the first light kissed the dew-laden fields, Elañorr arrived at the sacred temple of Astena. He stood by the ancient wishing well, its stones weathered by centuries of whispered hopes, nestled in the open meadows that stretched beyond the temple's hallowed grounds. There, beneath the soft glow of morning, he tended to a wounded Ferleigh—a wondrous creature adorned with shimmering golden fur that sparked with each movement. These elusive beings, swift as lightning, left trails of crackling electricity in their wake, their very essence a dance of primal magic. With deft hands, Elañorr blended herbs gathered from the wilds of Midgard, grinding them with sacred stones to craft a salve. The Ferleigh, immune to conventional enchantments, required remedies born of midground and ingenuity, not spellcraft.
From the shadows of the temple's colonnade emerged Tessa, her presence as radiant as the dawn itself. "Mother Joana always fretted over her children wielding unbridled magic," she said, her voice warm with memory as she approached. "But I never forgot your teachings on Midgard's healing herbs. Your Garr Mixture—legendary, is it not? A balm to mend any wound, be it man or beast."
Elañorr turned, his eyes alight with quiet respect, and rose to greet her. He gestured to the Ferleigh, now prancing joyfully at his feet, its golden fur aglow with renewed vigor. "Astena herself couldn't resist this one," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. "These creatures, so small, yet brimming with wild power."
Tessa's gaze softened, but her tone carried an invitation. "Come inside, Elañorr. The temple welcomes you."
He shook his head, his expression growing solemn. "I came to offer gratitude, Tessa, and a warning. You know he will come soon—Liamb, the Darkest One. Given your storied past, he may spare your life, but not without leaving scars upon your soul."
They began to walk, the meadow grasses swaying like a sea of whispers beneath their feet. Tessa's voice was steady, unshaken. "He would not dare act recklessly within my temple's sanctity. Even he knows the power that dwells here."
Elañorr's eyes darkened, his words heavy with foresight. "Should you and Liamb clash, the very fate of the cosmos would tremble, its outcome veiled in shadow. I won't interfere in whatever binds you two, but nor will I leave you defenseless. Not after you aided Awisk." From his cloak, he produced five runic talismans, not mere symbols but intricate relics pulsing with latent power, each a delicate machine forged by Elañorr's own hands. "Place these around your temple," he instructed. "When Liamb defiles this sacred ground, they will prove… effective."
With that, Elañorr dissolved into the wind, his form scattering like leaves caught in a gust. Tessa stood alone, the talismans warm in her hands, a faint smile gracing her lips. She needed no aid, and he knew it—yet his gesture, born of loyalty and caution, was a gift she could not dismiss. For when the Darkest One came, even the mightiest could not afford to be unprepared. Turning back toward the temple, Tessa felt the weight of destiny settle upon her, as the meadow hummed with the quiet promise of magic yet to unfold.
SAND HABOR
With his blade grazing the young druid's skin, Eden pressed Elyse to shed his cryptic veneer. "Speak plainly," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
Trembling, Elyse stammered, "I-I fear a sacrifice has already been made to the Great Dragon… but it was deemed unworthy—a null offering. The Dragon's wrath is kindled!" His words quivered under Eden's looming fury.
Eden's sword clattered to the ground as he whirled toward Revan, seizing him by the collar. "Are you alright?" Princess Ilsa cried, her voice laced with concern as Eden's grip tightened, Revan gasping for air.
"Did you see the sacrifice's face?" Eden roared, his eyes blazing. "Answer me!"
"Ease up, Eden!" Ilsa interjected, stepping forward. "He's just a boy, and he's clearly trying to help." Turning to Elyse, she softened her tone. "Can you lead us to the Takers' lair, where the sacrifice is held?"
Elyse's gaze darted nervously. "This is no time for heroics, Princess. The Red Hour is upon us—the Takers' power is unmatched. If you venture there, I fear none of you will return."
Eden's eyes narrowed, suspicion etching his features. "We'll decide our fate. But how do you know so much, Elyse? You warned me of the South Gate invasion, and now this. What's your game?"
"Calm down, man," Revan wheezed, finally free of Eden's grasp. "The kid's shaking like a leaf."
Elyse's voice wavered but held firm. "I'm not from Sand Harbor, nor this continent. I've followed your legend, Eden, ever since tales of your battle with the snow creatures reached me. I'm… well, I'm a fan. I only want to help, but I don't know how to prove it."
Eden's jaw tightened. "A hundred powerful druids and their Dragon God stand between me and my parents—assuming they weren't the sacrifice. How can you possibly help?"
Elyse hesitated, then squared his shoulders. "I… I could put them all to sleep. We could slip in and rescue your parents."
Revan scoffed. "All of them? That's impossible."
"I'm a druid too, I heard you," Elyse countered, a spark of defiance in his eyes. "My magic is strong. I can do it."
Ilsa frowned, skeptical. "To enchant a hundred elite druids, you'd need a potent anchor. The three of us combined wouldn't suffice."
But Elyse was already moving. With a snap of his fingers, a wave of arcane energy pulsed outward. In an instant, the entire population of Sand Harbor—Takers, druids, and all—slumped into a deep, enchanted slumber. Eden, Ilsa, and Revan stood awestruck, the audacity of the boy's power igniting a flicker of hope.
"We must hurry," Elyse urged, his voice steady now. "The Dragon remains awake, ever vigilant. It's up to you to get your parents out of that cave."
Spurred by the taste of impending victory, the trio surged forward. Eden galloped atop his steed, its hooves thundering against the midground, while Ilsa and Elyse soared on enchanted brooms, the wind whistling through their hair. They reached the cavern's maw, its entrance littered with the skulls of past sacrifices, radiating an eerie warmth and raw, ancient power. The Takers, cloaked in crimson, lay scattered in slumber across the ground, their menace quelled—for now.
Ilsa distributed vials of her invisibility potion, and the group drank deeply, their forms fading into shimmering translucence. Inside, Elyse wove a swift locator spell, pinpointing Eden's parents deeper within the cave's labyrinthine depths.
But a voice—deep, resonant, and laced with malice—rumbled through the stone. "Child of Faith, the trap is sprung. Your father's essence was… bland. I trust you will sate my hunger."
"No!" Eden's cry echoed as he sprinted deeper into administrative, heedless of the danger.
"It's a telepathic lure," Elyse warned, his voice urgent. "The Dragon knows we're here. This is a trap for Eden!"
Ilsa grabbed his arm, her mind racing. "If we all charge in against a Dragon God, we're done for. Eden might stand a chance alone, but we need a plan—fast."
Revan, however, would not be restrained. "No way I'm leaving him!" His body, hardened by faith, smashed through rubble as he barreled into the cave's heart, determined to stand by his friend. There, amidst the suffocating darkness, he found Eden—face to face with the towering, malevolent presence of the Great Dragon, its eyes glowing like twin infernos.
To be continued...