Long ago, when the realms were new and time itself had just begun, seven beings rose to immense power. They were the Sovereigns—each bound to a realm, guarding it, ruling it. But as ages passed, their bonds frayed. The Sovereigns grew weary of one another and began to fear each other's might.
What began in unity ended in betrayal. Friends turned to foes, and thus began the War of the Sovereigns. In the chaos of their battle, their relics—armor, weapons, and even fragments of their very souls—vanished into thin air, never to be seen again.
By the war's end, only three Sovereigns remained whole: The Light Bringer, The Bearer of the Black Bone Crucible, and The Thalassic Emperor.
Strangely, the most powerful among them were the ones who disappeared—Sovereigns whose names are now lost to time, along with their souls, their weapons, and their legacies.
Even now, if you listen closely, you might hear the echo of their battles—faint whispers calling out the names of those once-great beings...
The old man finished his tale with a dramatic flourish.
"Woah, that's awesome!" exclaimed a small boy, no older than four. His caramel skin glowed in the firelight, and his wide eyes—each a different color—sparkled with admiration.
The old man let out a hearty chuckle, wiping a tear from his cheek.
"Enjoyed the story, didn't you, young Rayvox?" he asked warmly.
Rayvox nodded eagerly, his black wolf-cut hair whipping through the air to reveal a single streak of deep purple.
"Sure did, Elder Remmick! It was amazing!" the boy giggled.
---
Light flooded into the room. A young man opened his eyes—those same full heterochromia eyes, sharp now with age and awareness. The afternoon sun poured across his caramel skin, highlighting lean but defined muscles. He ran a hand through his black wolf-cut hair, now longer, but still marked by that deep purple streak.
"That damn old man's death is making me sentimental..." he muttered.
"Come on, Rayvox. You're too old to be thinking about childhood bedtime stories."
He swung his legs off the bed with a groan. I need to get ready for the funeral, he thought