The Hope She Invoked.....

This was the Universe' 'Havenlight', how it came to be not many knew, but all knew its name, all that were born under its light knew its name. For they were born with an innate love for it, for how could a child not love its mother.

But few knew what was on the other side, and even fewer knew that it even had two sides to it, but It was with good reason that the many did not know.

The two sides contrasted each other greatly, and due to the events that happened long before the stars were even formed, this truth became even more apparent.

In truth they used to be mirror versions of each other, though having seemingly different but opposite names to each other. But now one side of that mirror was shattered beyond recognition, becoming a shell of what it was once.

It lost its Light while the other seemingly became an origin of overflowing Light, Its name was long drowned from the annals of history becoming a dream that never was. 

On the side known as Havenlight, there were as many worlds, planets and realms as the sands on the beach on this side of the Universe. Their sheer number was abysmal that many worlds and different places were just being discovered every other day. New races were being discovered every other day. It teemed with so much vitality that the air stunk of it. 

But all the worlds had something in common, they worshipped the light for it was as abundant as the air they breathed. They knew no death, no suffering, they were happy, they peaceful and they were content. but all this would change on this fateful day. The darkness they had eluded at the expense of others, has come to seek its vengeance. And what a grueling sight it would be.

The Old Ones thought they had hidden it very well so, but their negligence would make them wish they could regret. And all it would take to unravel the tapestry of their schemes were the whims and filial piety of an Eldritch Infant.

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Origin Soil, a mountain range, that occupied a corner of its own in Havenlight, towering over every other thing in this universe. Had as many realms as the stars in the void of space, with just as many stars, suns and moons.

A desolate yet magnificent force of nature. its realms were covered in a canvas of skies of shimmering gold and air that hummed with an ethereal glow, the singing of Solaris accompanied its every breath, casting the realms with beauty so intense it could lull the mortal mind.

Darkness and the shadows it birthed were fleeting, seemingly banished by the ever-present light that the mountain suffused. It could be desolate but it would never grow dark, no shadows could roam. And even when it towered over every world, planet or realms it did not cast a shadow over them, its Light was sufficient, holy and everlasting.

Yet at the eternal heart of this holy mountain, an event of unimaginable terror was about to transpire.

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In a seemingly secluded place, far removed from the teeming emerald trees, the serene meadows, lay a sanctuary so hidden that the hands of fate did not know of its presence. It was a convergence of powerful ley lines where the fabric of reality was thin and easily manipulated by those with the knowledge and the will to go through with it.

It seemed that this mountain hid more than it let on, but to anyone that had a hint of curiosity, this was obvious, just its sheer size alone would warrant the speculations of the secrets it hid, but probably they would remain that way for a long time to come.

This sanctuary was a circle of ancient trees, trees whose size alone would make other tress on this mountain feel like ants., their silver bark glistened with light that emanated from within.. In the center of this circle stood a black and grim stone altar, smooth and cold, surrounded by intricately carved runes that pulsed with a dim foreboding light reminiscent of the light of a flickering soul.

And on this night, the usual serenity of the sanctuary was disrupted. The air was charged with an unnatural energy, and the usual harmonious hum of the realm was replaced by an eerie silence that stung like a blade wound... The trees, whether illusion or reality seemed to lean inward, their branches twisting into grotesque shapes as if recoiling from the dark ritual about to be performed....

A heaven defyingly beautiful woman, whose perfect visage was now a shamble of pain and determination, lay upon the altar. Her body frail, her skin seemingly had lost its hidden glow becoming more akin to common glass, as if the light of the realm had drained her of her life. She was Elvyra Australis, the fabled daughter of the enigma that was the Aurora Australis, a woman whose beauty had once transcended all notions of meanings, standing in a realm of beauty that only she could lay claim to.

Her once luscious cloudy hair lay strewn and spread around her like a halo, and any semblance of ephemeral light and beauty it once held had long disappeared.

All its light was gone, the shine of emeralds, sapphires, crimsons amethyst colors had all disappeared only to be replaced by a dark blank canvas of locks, contrasting greatly with the luminous nature of her surroundings, Her eyes, wide and hollow, stared up at the sky, but her gaze focused inward on the the life she was about to bring about.

It had been half a century ever since she ran into the cover of the numerous realms of Origin Soil, but to her it felt like a millennia. A pregnancy she was once excited about, brought her more tragedy than she could imagine, to the point where she almost died from being drained by the child she carried, she felt pain like never before, her sufferings only grew worse with its growth, but not once did she resent it. The love she had at the beginning was still the same love she had for it even now.

But Love could only go so far, her life was going and she was in despair.

But they came, those insane freaks finally came, saving her and her child from deaths doorstep. Though she hated these beings more than anything, they did good to keep their word.

Surrounding her were robed figures, their faces obscured by deep hoods. They were a cult, a cult of beings who should not even exist in this universe as far as she knew, their gods or those she believed to be their gods were far from here that the distance between them could not be explained in words.

But she neither had the interest nor the power to peer into their history, all that mattered to her was her child she could finally give life and continue her line, her Legacy.

Their chants filled the air, a low resonant murmur that seemed to vibrate through the very fabric of reality. Each word they spoke brought a wave of fear, misery and terror in her body, but it seemed that she was being protected from the effects of the tongue they used, by her child. It devoured their chants just as they reached her body and so what she was feeling was probably only the aftereffects of being its presence.

The leader of the hooded figures, an imposing figure with a staff topped by a crystal of pure obsidian, stepped forward. His eyes, the only visible part of his face, glowed with an unnatural light. He began an incantation, his voice rising above the chants, calling upon powers older than realm itself. As he spoke, the air grew colder, and the light that permeated the realm dimmed, as if recoiling from the darkness being invoked.

Elvyra's body convulsed, her screams piercing the heavy air, but if one listened well, one would hear that accompanying her screams were the wails of numerous men.

Their wails sought to rise far above hers, but they lost out in the end and it did not take long before they ceased.

A small distance away from the altar one could see a group of men, whose charm was once above many. But now it was reduced to visages of fear horror and misery.

Their bodies once a thing of envy had lost all their beauty, their vitality drained, their desires and souls gone, their existences erased leaving nothing but empty husks behind, a testament to the ungodly events taking place.

If one looked closely, one could identify a familiar figure among the husks on the dry ground, his once rosy gold hair now akin to dry weeds. This was Ambrose and the men that lay with him in death were those that had seemingly joined the hunt for Elvyra's Love. But one man was not among them, it seems he had survived the fate of death.

The hooded figures intensified their chanting, their voices blending into a single oppressive note that seemed to force the very light to retreat, as the vitality and essence of their sacrifice flowed into her womb, Aether of light groaned in pain and the Solaris was nowhere to be seen... The ground beneath the altar began to tremble and the runes carved into the stone flared with a sickly green light.

With a final wrenching cry the Elvyra gave birth. But what emerged was not a single child. First came an egg, patterned with disorderly scales and iridescent green-emerald shades, the size of a human heart. It pulsed with a dark energy, veins of crimson and black writhing beneath its surface. As to what the creature that was harbored this shell, only time would tell, for it gave no response upon reaching the atmosphere.

The hooded figures whispered among themselves, their voices filled with a mixture of awe and dread.

Next from Elvyra's womb emerged another egg, this one was as dark as midnight, its surface seemingly confused between being rough and smooth at the same time, but covered in tiny razor sharp barbs. It radiated a malevolent energy, a palable hunger that seemed to draw the very essence from the air around it.

Finally, a third form emerged, a fragile and covered in blood and ichor. This was the child, a being unlike any realm had ever seen... It was a winged infant, its tiny body marked with strange, swirling patterns that glowed with an indistinct otherworldly light. Its wings still wet and crumpled, were a deep, iridescent black, feathers sharp and metallic.

The child's eyes already open, were a striking shade reminiscent of its mother's eyes but with a dark background that emitted a black luster. and deep within where none could see, a pair of kaleidoscopic irises seemed to grow out from with the void in its infant eyes, covered and protected by the swirls of the Aurora. The irises swam and rotated around each other without a care in the world

As the hooded figures looked upon the newborn, their chanting ceased, replaced by a stunned silence. The leader stepped forward cradling the child in his arms. The air around them seemed to hum with dark matter and energy, and the light that had retreated now flickered uncertainly as if caught in a battle for dominance.

" This child" the leader intoned, his voice filled with more ecstasy than reverence or dread " is the harbinger of a new age. Born of light and darkness, he carries within him the power to shape fate of this Universe. The great beasts of antiquity and primordial nature plus the wings of freedom all are united in him"

As he spoke the eggs started to rattle intensely and pulse more intensely, but other than that, they did nothing more and soon went back into slumber. One would question if what had happened earlier was a figment of ones imagination. 

The leader of the hooded figures grumbled to himself as he looked at the rattling eggs, "It seems I do not have the right to gaze at their forms"

In that moment, the sanctuary, the heart of Origin Soil became a nexus of profound transformation. The light that had always been so pure and unyielding now flickered with uncertainty; shadows crept into its golden expanse. The birth of the winged child marked the beginning of a new ominous era, the balance of light and dark shifted, and Havenlight would never be the same again.