Episodic Series, Fiction, Lyorta

Lyorta: The Saga Of Retribution: Prologue

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The threat of war had always loomed over Marion. Through its brutal history, the soil had soaked up the blood of many, and so it is with this story. In 795 RE, an empire from the far west invaded Golgotha, a land encompassing Marion’s north-eastern half. For 45 bloody years, the two empires fought each other, resulting in the capture of Golgotha by the western empire known as Azure. Peace was about to reign again… but poison can be swift and futile to expose once infused.

~ A Rider At Sunset ~

~ 845 RE ~ Golgotha’s Capitol: Elitus, at Dusk ~

Along the old country road, dusty soil erupted as thunderous hooves barreled over bittersweet pastures. Riding at the front is a brave warrior clad in armor. His name was Guildred, a Lord Knight of the Azure Empire and proud leader of the griffon knights. From what I knew of him, he was an absolute terror on the battlefield. Renowned for being the first in the vanguard and never leaving until he slew his enemy.

As he advanced, an army of cavalrymen on horseback, armed with rifles and spears, followed him. They rode past the heart of death, a field littered with rusted weapons buried in the dirt that marked the graves of the fallen. It filled his mind with images of the dead stacked like walls and their fetid odor as he remembered the blood and mayhem of the battle. Horror pierced his heart as he heard the irons bearing down on each other and the echoes of their screams clashing together. Despite the terrors of war, Guildred sat tall with his chest outstretched, a picture of strength. The flowing white cape of his robe gleamed in the dying red sun’s rays.

They rode forward toward a castle that was obscured by a rusty haze. In his veins, the panic was pumping like the beat of a war drum. He could hear the creaking of his horse’s reins as he wrapped the cords in his hand. With his saber raised, he points towards the war-torn city gates of Elitus.

They already stationed several guards in blue uniforms at the gates. As Guildred’s hand rose in the air, the soldiers prepared their spears. The Lord Knight felt his heart crawl into his neck as his horse came to a halt. Two guards point their long polearms at the naked neck of the gallant knight within seconds. Snowy whiskers and deep chasmic wrinkles adorn the face of the elder guard. The other guard was much younger. Despite his youthful sense of invisibility, the guard tightened up, giving him away.

There was an unsettling silence in the air. Regardless, the result would be the same. In his mind, it was simply a matter of whether he would wet his blade. As the guard’s face lit up with wide eyes, the old man appeared to recognize him, much to the Lord Knight’s relief. Though he couldn’t tell if it was fear or respect. “Lord Knight Guildred, what was this about?” asked the elder.

“I’m here under the orders of High King Grandor to protect the prince! I have no time for pleasantries,” Guildred said firmly, brushing the spear’s tip away with his sword. “Let me through,” they met his commanding reply with a nod from the guards, who parted to let the cavalry pass. Guildred directed his band of soldiers to cross the threshold like a rushing river of bestial hooves.

It had been so long since he last saw Elitus without its fortifications. During the war, ramparts constructed from metal plates and wood surrounded every street. They armed even the littlest children to defend the city. Now everything was quiet, and it appeared peaceful, although that was soon replaced by hallowed silence and prayers. Guildred’s armor-clad warriors stormed the streets, shaking the earth.

The Lord Knight glanced down to his side and saw a man, wide-eyed and mouth agape, dressed in a well-worn cloak. Lifting his stance over the man and pointing forward, he sent the retrenched cavalry to their positions. They do this as a coordinated force, trained and adept at what they do. Two men secured each junction, clearing the way for the horses. Guildred remained composed, with men guarding doors to their shops, locking the windows, and fleeing the knights despite the widespread panic. Guardsmen approached to ask about the situation as the riders explained it.

He grumbled to a younger man beside him, “Traveling as a group will hold us back with this much panic.” He watched the alarm spiral into hysteria. A growing sense of urgency pierced his body. “Hm,” he growled. He thought to himself, “the time is running out.”

Snatching the reins, Guildred rode into the crowd while the young soldier yelled, “My Lord, wait!”

As people dive to get out of the way, Guildred steered his horse through the crowded city streets by instinct. In battle, riding a horse is one thing Guildred considered. The men knew when to step aside, and when they did not, the Lord Knight would cut them down. This is a game of avoidance; this was a game he had never played before. The feeling of imminent collision shook him to the core. Despite the tension they shared, his horse continued diving, weaving, and avoiding obstacles, both living and inanimate.

~ A Legacy Remains ~

Children’s giggles reverberated from the cool marble chapel. On a red blanket sprawled over the floor, an infant girl and boy play. In their midst was a group of dressed men in expensive attire. They cover their faces with carved wooden masks of animals. These masks depict a bear, a boar, a bird, a deer, a fish, a fox, and a wolf. The bird adjusted his cufflinks with obvious restlessness. Their swords rested on their laps. Candles flickered and danced, hungry for a feast, waiting for their sacrifice as phantom winds moved into the room. Almost no sound escaped their lips as their whispers dragged.

“Wham!” The burst echoed down the hall. As the clopping of hooves draws nearer, the men bound from their chairs. Huddling around the children, the men grabbed their brands for protection. The fox pointed at the door. The bear and the boar, the two more burly of the men, rushed out of the sanctuary and into the hall with their sabers drawn.

Guildred rode down the marble halls toward the strange masked men. The bear and the boar struck combative stances with their swords in hand. “Royals,” Guildred said to himself. He had always considered the lesser houses to be idle and cowardly. “This pair must find power in their authority,” the trained warrior mused. Their stature and attire clarified they were countrymen and betrayers.

Grandor’s fears of usurpers were realized. Guildred choked the shaft of the spear. As the boar rushed towards Guildred, he hollered with a sense of authority, “Halt.” If the situation were different, Guildred might have laughed; instead, it provokes anger. Responding with an unadulterated charge, he narrowed his eyes. A pulpy red burst of blood shot from his spear as it pierced the man’s chest. The thrust ripped from his face the wooden boar mask, showing a toothy, open-jawed scream.

Guildred stared deeply into the man’s blue eyes, filled with tears. The nobleman, who once stood proudly, gags for air as a strand of saliva escapes his mouth. The nobleman grasped at the spear’s tip as Guildred lifted the struggling man. In utter horror, the second man in a bear mask stared, his body still and yet trembling.

The Lord Knight released a subtle growl as he rode several feet with the impaled man roaring in agony. A thrust sends the boar’s body soaring from the spear. As he flew, he crashed into a wall, sending a tapestry tumbling behind him.

As the bear jerked at his knees and turned tail, he ran away from Guildred, who now appeared like a giant brute dressed in his silver armor. For a moment, Guildred considered pursuing the man, a feeling of almost animal thrill for the chase overtaking him. In the end, he decided it was wise to aim through the open chapel doors where the men came from. Guildred examined the bloody spear’s tip that once found itself buried in the man. His “royal” meat hung from its bent end, useless to Guildred now. In any case, he did not desperately need range. He threw the spear to the ground, and it rolled, leaving behind a bloody trail. As he rode into the open doors of the sanctuary, the rest of the men shrank back in fear. In the blink of an eye, Guildred lept off his horse, drew his saber, and rose to his feet. The men greeted him by pointing their ceremony blades in his direction.

His polished blade aimed at the three, shouting “Drop your swords in the name of Lord King Grandor!” He huffed, twisting his body at an angle. With his mouth down-turned, and his gaze focused on the children, Guildred released a deliberate exhale.

Yelping, the bird raised his hands and yelled, “Sir Guildred, you must understand.”

Guildred thought to himself. “They’re pleading their cases already?” He shook his head and spotted to his left the wolf, charging forward, hollering “Quick, kill the child!” with a gruff voice.

When Guildred noticed the fox standing over the young boy, he reached for his throwing dagger. As the fox raised his sword over the baby boy, he yelled, “It must be finished.” Guildred sweeps the small dagger across the room in one fluid motion. The blade struck the fox in the throat. Knife in his neck, the man tumbled backward, squelching, blood gushing onto the floor. The fox rolled on the ground as he reached for the hem of his co-conspirator’s cloak and let out a loud squeak.

Guildred’s eyes dart up just in time to see a dramatic swing aimed at his head. “Clang!“ Guildred blocks the wolf’s attack, their two blades groping, slipping, and ending their flash dance with a poke to the ribs. As the wolf released his sword, the man reached for the edge stuck in his lung. His shirt, wet with blood, is painted in broad, wet strokes. In the same manner, in which Guildred had plunged his weapon into the man, he expelled it effortlessly. In the process, the colored saber drips onto the ground, creating a small puddle at his feet. The wound became a fountain. The wolf feels his heartbeat betraying him. Among the children’s shrieks are tears and squeals of discomfort, besides the wailing of the remaining masked men.

When the deer and fish jittered, they drop their brands. The bird is too startled to do much. Behind Guildred, a procession of soldiers swarmed the room, pointing their spears. Suddenly, the bird cried, “Mercy!“ Guildred turned his sapphire gaze at him. He could tell from his voice that he was a relatively young man. The bird’s hands shot into the air. Suddenly, the sword rolled out of his grasp. The blade landed on the floor with a clunk, revealing a face flushed with a shade of pink Guildred had never seen before. His eyes, puffy and sullen, filled with streaming tears, he exclaimed, “I had nothing to do with this.”

Except for the crying children, the only sound was Guildred’s first step. There was an audible metallic clank. With the chapel’s ringing, its weightiness became clearer. Slowly and deliberately, Guildred marched toward the men, who cowered at his approach. Guildred stands over them. After loosening his right hand’s leather strap, he drew a quiver from the men. A similar reaction followed when he did the same with the left. With a bang, the gauntlets fall to the ground, fingers spreading, palms open.

Guildred squatted down and lifted the kids off the ground. “How do I stop their cries?” He wondered to himself. Then he recalled what his maid mother would do with his siblings. While humming a song he knew from the bards, the noble warrior gently bounces, cradling the pair. Russet infantile hands gripped his silver breastplate firmly. It wasn’t long before they stopped crying. Guildred doesn’t even bother to glance at the others as he rises to his feet. His soldiers parted as he walked across the sanctuary’s purple carpet. He paused his humming to add, “Arrest them.” He then resumed his croon, continuing out of the room.

“Please! Mercy!” a shout echoed. Mercy is the last thing he deserved, Guildred judged.

The young girl’s rosy sepia face is kissed by a pink digit that wags against it. Violet jewels looked up at Guildred’s sharp diamond features, crystal blues framed by sandy blonde locks. Her body is flattened against Guildred’s forearm. A smile spread across the brace knight’s face. “Rest well, Princess Talumn.” Guildred said.

Following Guildred are six marching soldiers. The young baby of a boy kicks in his other arm, struggling, curling, and winding in the knight’s arms, beating his hands and feet against the metal plate. “Papa!” he shouts, arousing Talumn from her slumber.

As a lump formed in his throat, Guildred muttered, “Silly kid.” He fought to contain his tears as he said, “Don’t worry, your father is coming.” The truth was, his father was dead, poisoned at a dinner a few hours earlier. Guildred approached a large silver door that is embossed with the image of a winged man reaching into the clouds. This door opened in the middle, revealing a circular room with transparent walls and a view of the village. Squirming, the boy tugged at Guildred’s white cloak, trying to get free. There are four more soldiers in the room with them. As the silver doors close, the room rises, expanding the view of the city as they climb higher. Guildred pointed at the window. “Look, Illian.” The boy’s blues become luminous with fascination. The boy turned his head slowly and smiled up at the Lord Knight. “I thought that might make you smile,” he said. “It’s your kingdom. Don’t forget it.” Guildred warned. “You get to leave this madness tonight.”

The climb took less than a minute, but it felt like it was for hours. After the silver doors open, a black sky and a red moon are visible in the distance. All four soldiers sprint across the castle’s reach. The warm summer breeze blows Guildred’s way. One soldier calls out, “All clear.”

In the distance, Guildred saw a massive airship en route. “We will get you out of here,” he said. In Guildred’s eyes, the goliath looked like a flying stronghold. However, it is much smaller, but anything that flies that size deserves a title. Its blue-white landing lights blinded the group as it drew closer. The large ship anchors itself to the castle wall; Guildred’s cape cracks in the winds generated by the large ship. Dropping loudly from the airship’s deck, a metal board landed with a clang.

Guildred squinted, turning ajar and shielding the children from the blinding spotlight. Two gigantic guards clothed in cloaks of blue cast shadows. Guildred compared their helmets to pointed metal hoods, similar to bishop’s caps, except they covered their faces. With large lances like cannons, the soldiers stood at least nine feet tall, crossing the metal bridge; their mere presence was unintentionally menacing.

As another man crossed, the light darkens for a moment. As before, he wore royal robes and was much shorter and unarmored. A hearty greeting awaits him from the fresh-faced man, “Lord Ashnod, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

When he recognized the man, Guildred’s face lit up with delight. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Gallion Gravios.” He trusted him as a child, at least at one point in his life. “The circumstances are far too grim to respect,” Guildred said, while Illian cried loudly.

Gallion reached out and took the children from him. “They will have a better life than they could ever wish for.” He narrowed his eyes, turning Guildred’s stomach. “Were the nobles trying to kill the royal family? Was it true?”

Guildred replied to Gallion, “It seems so.”

Gallion looked over to the ship and said, “I see. In that case,” He turned away from Guildred with a grimace. He muttered, “Kill them all.”

General Gallion paused when Guildred said, “I have three of them captured; should we not at least question them? So we can understand the situation.” Gallon stood still. Guildred swallowed uncomfortably, not wanting to undermine the nobleman’s authority.

“Kill every one of them. We would have had lasting peace between our two kingdoms if it weren’t for King Bridehan. The balance now rests in the hands of a crying child. Leave Bridehan, though… we will neuter him after this.” Guildred bit the inside of his cheek. An odd feeling came over him that there was something more going on than what appeared on the surface. As he watched Talumn sleep in Gallion’s arms, doubt entered his mind. Hopefully, Grandor will shelter them appropriately and they will prove him wrong.

Gallion turned back to Guildred while standing on the bridge. “I trust you will handle it for us. In the morning, we might require new nobles. Take control of Elitus and Guildred after the ride north. The bastards in Tidus need to see the true cost of what they’ve done. Leave the public out of it. Such things shouldn’t bother them.”

As Guildred watched Gallion turn away and board the airship, he said, “Yes, sir.” His guards followed and redrawn the bridge onto the ship. While the vessel ascended back to the skies, he stood wide-eyed. As he grips his saber, he turns to the guard standing next to him. “You heard him,” he says. “We have work to be done.”

23 Years Later

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Lyorta: The Chronicles Of The Divinity

– The Origins Of The Creation –
Before everything, there was only the Tempest for an unending moment. The potential of everything laid inside raw essence, power in the truest form; unformed and in darkness, constantly warring within itself. The powers of infinity swirled without time; the eternal chaos. The mills of the Tempest moved and from its fires came forth aspects of itself. These aspects were one with the Tempest and yet separate. However, as the elements formed, they were destroyed and sucked back into the Tempest’s unyielding tides. Though not every aspect was redrawn into the chaos. Some tore from the darkness and escaped the fires of the Tempest. Still, the flames of the Tempest sought to consume.

Sailing among the twilight dreams of the Tempest, the aspects became the Primordial Gods. Entities ruling over energies. Singular and plural in the same. Each one being a unique entity and a pantheon at the same time. They took up names for themselves and in that name was given their power. Grhtoth was the firstborn of the Primordials. A being mired in curiosity and knew of all things and a master of going to and from one place to another. In Grhtoth came time.

The second among them was Raoglak, who sensed the fires of the tempest. It grew to fear and desired to leave the Tempest, and so it fled through Grhtoth. Fhothotu, the third among them, wondered after Raoglak and knew Grhtoth.

Then there was a here, and a there brought forth by Maeg, fourth born. Lathos, the fifth then was here and then there among Grhtoth following Maeg. L’oia, the sixth, came to both Maeg and Lathos but first had to go through Grhtoth. After the three primordials came, there was a space between them and the Tempest, and none went near.

Bursting forth away from the tempest came another among them, Luyata the seventh, and with her a pulse and vibration. Nhurakal, the eighth appeared, and in the presence of the other Primordials clung to them. When the winds of the tempest blew, and its fires came among the Primordials they burned and among the fires came the last, Athyarn, who had a spirit.

Together, the Primordials brought forth aspects to embody them. In harmony, they shared in their power compellingly to escape the endless torture made known to them by Raoglak. L’oia convinced Grhtoth with the assistance of Fhothotu to always go forward and never go back, and so there was no more Tempest and its fires were kept away. And so the great barrier was formed. All creation had walls given to it.

In space, the nine Primordials commingled and brought forth children. These children born from the Primordials are given a name, and it was Aeon.

    The Aeons were born to an empty existence whose laws were in motion. Under the rule of the Primordials, they endured a world of chaos without order. Having the aspects of all the Primordials limited the Aeons, and they could not know the Primordials. Instead, they were left wondering as to what their purpose was to be. In their reasoning, they were blind to their existence and like weather the Primordials passed over.

The Aeons explored the vast emptiness, finding one another, and together they came to understand the effects of each Primordial but could not discern their form. In doing this, the Aeons began their great work. They stretched forth a space for themselves using the powers of Maeg, Lathos, and L’oia. In this, they gave themselves their first creation, locality. Luyata brought forth a gift for them, and the Aeons could touch one another in their locality. Raoglak moved them to feel one another, and so they loved one another, and so the Aeons reproduce and with their multitudes created and crafted existence.

The Primordials, however, brought forth entropy and ruined all the works of the Aeons. The Aeons quickly discovered the curse of Raoglak, pain. The Aeons hurt, weeping for everything they lost. They reasoned with the gifts of Fhothotu and said, “We will take up names of our own!” and so Xyreus began his first work. He traveled to and from everywhere and spoke with all the Aeons saying, “We must build a world of our own separate from the Prime Forces. Let us disassemble the Prime Forces into lesser forces.” With this, Xyreus gathered a significant number of Aeons.

Xyreus watched as the Primordials sailed among space and then he knew the Primordials by name. With his knowledge, he began experimenting on how to control their essence. A plot formed reign the Primordials under his control. Not understanding what was being done to them, the Primordials whispered to each other.

Madion wise among the Aeons watched and became fascinated to learn the Primordials had mimicked their creation and created beings of their own, the Ancients. Witnessing this, Madion gathered the other Aeons to watch the Primordials create. They grew fearful of the Ancients as they were beings formed from out of madness.

The Aeons argued what was to be done. Three factions formed among the Aeons. The most bold and loud wanted to make warlike beings to fight for them. A world and a space only for them to exist, where they would battle and slay each other until only a few remained. Ones who could gather up essence for themselves and eventually would be able to slay the Tempest.

The second group were cowardly and wanted to create a space to hide away. There creations would tend to their needs and worship them. They wanted to be done with their labors.

The third group simply wanted to rebuild, knowing it would be endless, but they shall rebuild and rebuild in an endless cycle of rebuilding.

The in end, the Aeons could not settle on an idea. Xyrues could not allow for these perversions to exist within his space, so he formed beings of his own whose sole purpose was to destroy the Ancients. He called these creatures dragons. It would settle their immediate argument and allow for the eternal debate to continue.

    The whole creation plunges into chaos as the Aeons and Primordials clash. Both sides suffered, and many Aeons destroyed. However, they prevailed. In the end, the gods managed to capture Maeg, Lathos, and L’oia and slew Raoglak, Fhothotu and Athyarn and in the final battle Narukal was fell by the hands of Xyreus.

They sacrificed Maeg, Lathos, and L’oia and sealed the Primordials behind a gate and called the gate Maelstrum. It became a pool of essence to burn eternally fueling the fires of creation. There, the three Primordials were driven insane and took up new names for themselves; Lathos became known as The Mad God, The Devourer, The Devil King Zsog, L’ola became The Curse Maker, Ruler Of Miseries, The Devil Queen Kelanys, and Maeg became known as The Blind, Fair King of Hell, The Devil King Elaugat; and there was endless war among them. They blamed each other for their fates, and great arguments broke out among them. They would whisper curses, and slowly their words would bring anyone who listened to madness.

The order was restored to the space the Aeons created, and to their amazement, something new happened. A great tower formed outside but within their space out of the three dead Primordials. They sealed this place in Amu Ra Amala.

Xyreus watched alone, and he alone witnessed the fate of the last Primordial Narukal. It decayed and withered. In his curiosity, Xyreus watched the dead Aeons commune with Narukal to form another world. He called it Naraka, a devourer of souls, the world of all that is dead.

The remaining Aeons took their places and began restoring the world. Their names were Xyreus, Luniel the Peacebringer because she declared the end of the war between the Primordials and Aeons, Zaal the Wanderer for he measured the entirety of existence and stretched forth the space in which the new creation would be made, Satal the God of Pleasure because during the war he brought forth song to calm the hearts of the Aeons, Sonael the Maiden of War because she slew Fhothotu, Madion the Wise One because he understood the Primordials, Patum the Queen of Darkness because she dwells where there is no light, Eron the Keeper because they kept a record of events, Talek the Lord of Seasons because he punished the Lyorta with seasons.

The Aeons and their children decided that they needed servants. So the Aeons would create the Ora, innocent beings whose only desire was to serve the Aeons. They would serve at the direct orders of the Aeons and gods, to bring forth there edicts to the rest of creation. They would also serve as the high priests of worship to the gods.

They were powerful beings that would act as Lords over creation. In the celestial realms above, they held domains over the other beings. Great warriors that would deal with malefactors in creation. Anything displeasing to the Aeons and their children were theirs to hunt and remove from their world. They were speedy messengers who carried the orders of the Aeons to other entities. They also served to watch over the creation and gave a full report of all things to the Aeons.

Together they gathered all the essence and used it to create a new world. Not as grand as the Tera, but still beautiful none the less. The Terrestial realm they would create.

The Aeons sent out the Ora who crafted the land below and the waters. They would make the mountains and the vast plains.

The Aeons gathered around the space and called the lower portion of the space the Lyorta. The Aeons then created four orbs to maintain order over the Lyorta, Matsula the blue orb, Abula the red orb, and Dahula the black orb, the fourth orb the Aeons hung above the Lyorta and called it Tera, the world of the gods, the place they would dwell. In the center of the space the gods made the world and encased the world in a shell of water, and they saw it was suitable for creatures. The Aeons began their work and filled the world with animals, and when they had finished filling it, they watched their creation.

One day in the land of Lyorta, new Aeons rose to power among the dragons. They were defeated by the Primordials but were resurrected to new life do to the roaming essence. They returned to Tera expecting to be welcomed as heroes, but instead they were not welcome at all. Xyrues, King of the gods, met them at the gates. He asked them, “What are your plans for the future?” and the old arguments arose from them. Xyrues refused them.

This enraged the other Aeons, and they demanded a place in Tera along with the other Aeons. Madion offered a solution that they would put down their ideals and instead build a future worthy of their title. However, the other Aeons would not hear it. They began fighting among each other, the three old factions; seeing this Xyrues sealed them in the Lyorta then sent the dragons to destroy them.

A time of endless war met the Lyorta. Many dragons died, but so too the Aeons. Lyorta was destroyed — the land collapsed and the shards of the world floated throughout the skies. All the Ora looked upon their smashed work and cried out to the gods.

This was the age of the dragons. For a time the dragons were alone and patrolled their lands and sought forth a way to survive. They resorted to eating each other, and only the strongest of the dragons would survive this horrible age of desolation. The last of the dragons tore holes in the barrier, seeking a way of escape.

Fires from the Tempest shot forth, and the world was filled with new power and essences. The Ora looked down and saw life among the floating rubble of the land. They discovered a new power came to the world. They called this power the glyths. They were the remnants of the power the Primordial gods used. With the fires of the Tempest, the Ora came upon the world and molded it to bring forth a new generation of animals.

The Aeon’s of Tera spoke among each other and decided the world was ruined and that it was time to make their own world. So with their powers, they made a new world above Lyorta. All those they saw as worthy they brought up to the new Lyorta, and Talek drowned all others under the tides that swallowed the old Lyorta.

The destroyed Aeons who destroyed the old Lyorta were devoured by Naraka, the world of the dead. The Ora was charged with the uncorrupted essence back to the Aeons of Tera. However essence that was tainted too heavily with sin was to be guided to Naraka. If it was even too corrupted for the Ora, they would leave the essence for the devils below in Maelstrum to take the corrupted essence for themselves.

Though in the darkness of Maelstrum, the devils worked, hatching a plan together.  They sacrificed the scraps of essence among them to craft a sickness.  This new corrupting force raised up above upon Lyorta and the Ora that were bound grew enraged. They began to fight among each other.  The Aeons watched in horror as they witnessed anarchy form upon the land.  They sent their soldiers to quell the problem but found their numbers dwindling fast.  It became very clear to the Aeons that they needed to step in themselves.

When the conflict was over many of the Ora had died and their spirits were so numberless that the Aeons were struck with awe.  However, the essence was disappearing to where they could not see it.  This troubled the Aeons, and rumors of another Primordial being responsible for the missing essence began to spread throughout Tera.

Below in Maelstrum the devils saw the vast amount of essence and crafted it. While the veil was weak, they sent the spirits into the world while the Aeons were not watching. These spirits were called the demons who worshipped the devils.

There came a day when a great and mighty dragon by the name of Tambrion heard the curse of Maelstrum. He listened and found pride in himself. He went among the other dragons, telling them of what he heard. They gathered together flying to the court of the High gods and said to the Aeons “I am mighty and I am proud, why should one such as I serve my equal.”

Xyreus said to Tambrion, “If you are so mighty you should battle me, and if you win, then you shall truly be my equal.”

However, Tambrion was not only powerful but cunning as well and said to Xyreus “You are confident in yourself, but you ask us to call Patum god as well. Should I not prove myself to any god of my choosing?”

Xyreus unamused but knowing the weakness of Patum said to the crowd of dragons “Go freely as you wish.” And so a great number of dragons left Tera to serve themselves. However, those loyal to the gods were deified as a house of gods.

Lacking servants to maintain the creation, the High gods gathered and created lesser gods to serve them and their children. These gods while powerful were nowhere near as powerful as the dragons. They created hierarchies among themselves and served the gods without fault. The highest gods then rested and watched over the creation and the divine machine they set in motion.

Tambrions words sunk deep in Xyreus’s heart. He grew restless only watching over creation and felt unsatisfied with his power. He began to experiment again until he eventually began to forge essence like the Primordials. The other high gods grew concerned with Xyreus as he started to become like the Primordials. Finally, Xyreus is driven insane with power and begins to sacrifice the lesser gods around him. Madion pleads with Xyreus to stop his raids, but Xyreus declares himself to Madion, that he shall make himself into a Primordial.

Madion travels among the other high gods and informs them of Xyreus’s actions. Fearing the result of his experiments, the other High gods agree to banish him to another realm outside of the Lyorta and Tera.

When the other High gods confront Xyreus, they find him completely defiled and his servants dead but trapped within him. He battles the other Aeons, but Xyreus is bound under the same seals they placed upon the Primordials. They carry him to the threshold between here and there and before the Tempest, casting him into its eternal fires in the hopes of destroying him forever.

But sadly, he was not destroyed. Instead, his essence lived and became a world of wicked madness called Vulg.

Deep in space, Xyreus cries echoed and reached as far as the outer reaches of time, where they were heard. A Primordial unknown to the other Aeons responded, calling forth. The Aeons were terrified at this discovery and sent forth armies to find and destroy the Primordial. However, their armies returned without finding the Primordial.

Ages passed, but eventually the Primordial allowed itself to be known and gave itself a name, Gritoth, Lord of the Gates. The Aeons with all their might and power could not subdue the Primordial and watched as beings from Amu Ra Amala crossed over through the veil, Gritoth becoming their path. The gods retreated to Tera and forged new boundaries and hid away from the Primordial Gritoth’s power.

The beings that crossed over became known as the Fae and formed societies around Lyorta. They were strange people, but intelligent like the gods. The Aeons, however, did not take their eyes off Gritoth and watched the gate once close between the worlds as Gritoth left. Now that the threat of the Primordial was gone, the gods were free to investigate the beings that were nomads to their world. The Aeons revealed themselves and were received as gods, and the Fae worshiped the Aeons. Pleased, the gods considered them friends.

Amu Ra Amala however remained connected to Lyorta. The tower speared right through Lyorta, though could only be seen when Gritoth was near. The Fae eventually forgot that they once came from such a place and instead became true natives of Lyorta.

In the darkness of space, however, Gritoth was not the only Primordial to respond to the echo. Another the Aeons had not encountered answered and made herself aware. She had escaped the wrath of the Aeons during the war and waited to create her creations, imbuing them with great powers and numbers. Her name is Lumaria and with her came the Wildlings.

She cried to Gritoth “Open a gate so that my children may avenge our kin.” and Gritoth obliged. Without the mighty gods’ protection, they conquered the world of Lyorta and convinced the Fae to end their worship of the Aeons. The lords of the Fae were convinced and ordered their armies to join the Wildlings in their conquest. They cleansed the lands of the spirits of Maelstrum and kept it pure. They also spread out into tribes, each with their own ways and perfections. Though at the call they would unite for war. Together their troops stormed the gates of Tera, breaking them asunder.

The Aeons fled to the holy city in fear of their numbers and the remaining dragons loyal to the gods battle vigorously against the armies but grew weak as the assault was never ending. Without any other choice, the gods turned to Xyreus’s works and used them to create beings like themselves. They called these people humans.

The humans, with their impressive mastery of essence and allied with the dragons of Tera, fought the invaders like an army of gods. The lords of the elves were first to egress from the battle, breaking their treaty with the Wildlings like cowards. The remaining war bands while still numerous were no match for the combined armies of Tera. They retreated to Lyorta, wounded and greatly outnumbered.

The lords of the humans were given crowns and told that they now ruled Lyorta, and they could claim whatever lands they pleased. After the great war, the humans found themselves scattered throughout all the Lyorta.

While the humans mostly remained the subjects of Tera, they traveled freely to and from the Lyorta. They began to build forts in the lands of the Wildlings while they swept their lands of the invading vermin. The steady onslaught forced the Wildlings to consolidate their tribes, and the warlords gathered to form an empire. The Wildlings called this Empire Aria, and as long as they stood together, the humans could not prevail against them.

The Fae, however, were now fugitive and considered traitors by the Wildlings and gods alike. It was not so easy for them to band together for protection. Instead, the wise lords of the Fae grew very weary of war. They feared the wrath of the Wildlings saying to themselves, “Now there is nowhere to hide.” The high priests of the Fae came up with a solution to their problem. If there were no places to hide, then they would make a place to hide. The Fae called these places glades, pocket worlds where they built palaces that were part of Lyorta but entirely separate. To their pleasure, their plans worked and the humans and Wildlings both passed through their lands, unaware of the magic that concealed them from their eyes.

While the Aeons were pleased with the humans, they also feared their new creations. Zaal came to the other gods saying, “They are too powerful and if they were ever to rise against us, we would all surely die.” The other gods agreed, and so they began subjecting the humans to cruel tortures for minor infractions. Their attempts to instill order quickly backfired. A group of humans gathered together and challenged the gods. The gods, however, proved to be far stronger and beat them into submission. They turned their challengers into horrible monsters and scattered them throughout Lyorta. The remaining humans did not escape the punishment ushered from the gods. As a result, the gods cast the remaining humans in Tera out into the Lyorta. They sealed off Tera, removing it from mortal reach forever as it rose beyond their grasp.

The first tribes of humans were the Belkurians, a people that was loved by the gods, who were placed in the far western stray islands, the Azurians, who were situated in the east of the continent of the west, the Borgains, who were placed south of the continent of the west, the Lagians, who were put in the north-west of the western continent, the Valdians, who were set in the south-west of the mainland of the West, the Sihayains, who were placed in the northern continent, the Iesians, who were put in the eastern continent, the Dalmians, who were put in the far east stray islands, and the last the cursed and most hated of the humans, the Talmians, whose hearts were full of vengeance, were placed in the core of the Aria in the southern continent. This marked the end of the age of gods and ushered in a new age ruled by man.