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Divine Beast of Episteme

Kaos, the building block of the universes, the galaxies, the stars, the planets, and every lifeform. An energy capable of achieving feats only considered magical, wonderous, fantastical. The essence of Gods! Here we are on the planet of Nepiter, the skies turned red, the oceans dried up, the mountains crumbled, the continents fractured, and the very skies shattered. These were the characteristics of the cataclysmic event known as the Entry. An event that spelled a new era for all of civilization. As history would have it, creatures of terrible might arose to challenge the supremacy of humans, and as such, those worthy of power equally great emerged to rescale the fields of battle. They were called the "Inheritors". "Touch and power shall be yours." The promise told to those who went before the great crystals. A gift from the world to combat the new threat. The very vessels of that which they sought--unlocking the pathway into their spirit to harness the might of Kaos. Prophecy spoke of a time when the influence of Inheritors would soar beyond those of the days of old, and the new generational humans would reclaim dominion over their terraformed planet. However, only then would perilous times; never again seen since the beginning of the Entry, manifest. For a forgotten child, reborn of the great spirit would emerge to restart an ancient war. One that shook the second heavens. Tristan, a broken boy from ages past came in contact with a certain being and his life changed forever. Or so he thought. ----------------------- Disclaimer: The cover does not belong to me.

Adamoforder · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
137 Chs

132. Longing

It was a rather cool day, the morning sun had just begun to rise, and the mist that usually covered the island every night was starting to clear. The birds within the folds of green surrounding the campus chirped audibly, probably a few hundred of them, announcing the day's breaking.

Tristan walked outside his room and even the boy's hostel to find himself before one of the three statues that arose within the academy's courtyard. They seemed to have a separate purpose than just adorning that wide space.

His tall frame stood still before the figurine that was the mother of inheritors, and for some reason, he felt drawn to it.

Tristan had woken up with another strange dream. They had become more frequent, and he had no idea why. But this particular one had been different. It had birthed the feeling of nostalgia or longing.