1 |Compendium|

On the precipice of a castle located in a region that could only be described as the most extreme north, sat an old man. His existence seemed to fade in and out of reality with each moment. He was there and not there, present and afar. This old man held a distant expression, which complimented his greyed hair and beard.

As old as he seemed to be, the depths of his eyes betrayed him an revealed a slither of rising vigor. Despair with a hint of sadness permeated his furrowed brow. In the end, his display of emotion did not last long. He started shifting his eyes, finally gazing down upon castle below his feet. He exhaled deeply as if he had just woken from a very long nap.

"Hm... I have been made to sleep for so long?" The old man sighed before making a hum that displayed deep thought.

"Five thousand years..."

The old man's acclimation with the flow of time was diverted, as what seemed like a viciously painful thought arose, one that he could not bear to re-witness in his memory. The pained expression did not linger on his sickly, pale, and wrinkled face. The old man shook slightly, before regaining his composure.

"So, this world has been altered drastically while I was gone? The other continents are shattered and fallen. The only one left standing on this lone and isolated planet is this landmass called the Helios continent? How very strange."

As he began to pace back and forth, the old man spoke to himself calmly. He seemed to be receiving information from somewhere as he continued to monologue about the events that came to shape the current continent. His voice resonated deeply. "The Pantheon. Such fools! They've split the continent into four regions... The Cloud World, The Massacre Region, The Holy Bridge, and The Fallen Storm."

The old man shook his head and rubbed his temples gently. He seemed unsure of his own sight.

"Seems like I need to go back."

With a flash of completely blinding white energy, the old man shifted out of existence. Where he stood before laid very defined singe marks, still smoldering with heat. Black smoke now emitted from the marks, floating high into the sky. The smoke became increasingly thick as it came into contact with the clouds. Instead of dispersing it seemed to meld into the grey clouds which bloated out the sky on the usual snowy night. A storm was coming...

While the old man had taken his leave, somewhere in the castle, a book that appeared to have not been moved for millenniums began to emanate with a green light. The light slowly flooded the room and left not even a shadow. A sharp soul-chilling coldness descended upon the room. Afterward, a faint cyan mist seethed from the pages of the book and onto the floor, pervading with the swiftness of a blizzards headwind. The book violently flung itself open to the first page. A few lines were revealed, "What ends shall begin and what begins shall end, the gods of old suffered. The gods of new shall learn. Their bane is their bone's marrow."