Kael's cataclysmic awakening sent shockwaves through the very fabric of Eldora, disturbing forces that had slumbered for millennia. Ancient beings, long thought extinct or lost to myth, stirred in the depths of the world. Phenomena defying natural law erupted across continents—omens of a power that had not walked the earth since the Age of Gods.
Far in the northern wastes, where blizzards howled like vengeful spirits, a single mountain speared the heavens. Its slopes were a battleground—thousands of beasts tore into one another in a frenzy of claws and fangs, their blood painting the snow in grotesque murals that were swiftly buried beneath fresh snowfall. The higher one climbed, the fewer the battles, but the stronger the combatants became.
At the peak stood a monstrosity of legend.
A beast of bear-like enormity, yet standing upright like a man, its body etched with glowing blue runes that pulsed with primal energy. Thick white fur billowed like a regal cloak, impervious to the biting cold. From its back jutted two obsidian ice spikes, radiating a chill so profound it made the surrounding air crackle with frost.
But its eyes were the most terrifying—lightning danced within them, arcs of raw power spilling over its muzzle as it gazed southward.
Then, it roared.
The mountain quaked. Every beast, from the lowest scavenger to the mightiest alpha, froze in primal terror, their instincts screaming of an apex predator that had no equal.
It had awoken
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In the heart of the Celestine Theocracy, within a grand cathedral bathed in golden light, a woman knelt in prayer before a towering statue of the First Archangel. Her beauty was otherworldly—flawless skin, lips like rose petals, and eyes of molten gold that shimmered with divine radiance. The nun's robes she wore, trimmed in sacred gold, did little to conceal the celestial grace of her figure.
Suddenly, her eyes blazed.
She rose without motion, levitating as golden particles swirled around her like a halo. A hymn echoed through the cathedral—a melody so pure it could only have been sung by the angels themselves.
Then, as swiftly as it had begun, the vision faded. The Saintes descended gently, her expression one of solemn revelation.
"Beatrice," she called, her voice like honeyed silk, "Contact the Pope. I have received a vision."
The heavens had spoken.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deep within the hidden corners of the world, where rot festered in the dark, a lone alchemist toiled over bubbling vials and arcane instruments. His body was a skeletal husk, wrapped in yellowed bandages that clung to his emaciated frame like burial shrouds. Patches of wiry black hair clung stubbornly to his scalp, the rest having long surrendered to time.
Then—he stilled.
His milky, unfocused eyes turned toward the ceiling, as if peering through stone and sky.
"It has begun?" His voice was a dry rasp, the sound of parchment crumbling to dust. "Much sooner than I predicted… but no matter."
A withered hand reached for a flask of swirling black liquid.
The game was already in motion.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a palace of marble and gold, an emperor sat upon his throne, his brow furrowed in frustration. Before him, the air shimmered, and a robed figure materialized—a mage of immense power, his silver beard thick with age and wisdom.
"Merlin," the emperor growled. "Tell me the energy surge I sensed was not what I fear it was."
The mage's expression was grim. "I'm afraid it is, Your Majesty. Another Shard has awakened… and it has chosen its champion."
The emperor's grip tightened on the armrests of his throne. "Have you located it?"
"No," Merlin admitted. "The Shard's magic obscured our scrying. But we confirmed it lies somewhere within our empire."
The emperor's eyes darkened. "Send the Vanguard. Tear this land apart if you must—I want that Shard found."
"And the Order?" the emperor pressed.
Merlin's lips thinned. "The Witch has hidden herself well. Not even our finest trackers can find her."
A humorless smirk twisted the emperor's lips. "Give the bitch her due—she is a Paragon, after all. But do not stop searching."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And amidst the chaos, the one responsible for it all lay unconscious atop a tree branch, oblivious to the storm he had unleashed.
The world trembled.
And Kael slept on.