The Four Empires - The Chronicles of the Thirteen Realms

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'Twas a Present, richly endowed with meaning profound.

'Twas a Past, vibrant and lives within cherished memories.

And 'twas a Future, ensuring that none shall remain barren.

In an age where fortune was but a fleeting wraith, and dire calamities were deemed naught but common tragedies, the echoes of such events lingered in the hearts of many folks, leaving none untouched by its frigid grasp.

In the realm of Threa, a land of bounty shrouded in unspeakable dread, there came a fateful day when a solemn truce was declared. Its – very kin did vow to dedicate their toil, their blood, and their very lives to forge a future for their progeny.

Yet, the tale did not end here…

Where the light fails to reach every shadowed corner, there lurks the darkness; simmering and biding its time with claws and fangs – poised to strike at the unsuspecting prey.

…

Thus, it was. This was the tale of the bygone, of the forgotten. Swallowed by the ancients where none presently dwell; long past the time when it brought exultation to those still alive to behold such sights. Oh, what a shame… What a lamentable shame…

It was, but a stroke of fortune for me to chance upon this Book of Records. Layer by layer, I had uncovered the mysteries therein.

Verily, I was but a traveler, bereft of coin nor fortune, uncertain of what tomorrow might bring; whether death shall claim my soul at the hands of brigands, or through the chill that clung to my starved body. Precarious, indeed. Though our idea might differ 'bout brigands and starving.

Step by step I traverse this land, with my leg and hands, my walking stick in hand, and my hair trailing likens to a waterfall behind me, stood upon the reefs, rocks, and winds; through a realm where naught was visible, shrouded in only mist and shadow.

It had been long. For far too long, they had left no record of what truly transpired. Yet, through the guidance of one of the Primordials, I stood here as a witness to the calamity that once befell this land, and to those warriors, knights, heroes – who were born and eventually returned to the embrace of heaven.

Nay, it might be hell, for I knew not what death truly was. Sigh… I grew weary writing with this pen, so small – yet so fragile. Might as well call it a mere stick. Cough… Pray, bear with this old man, for the longer I remained here, the more I found myself distracted.

Nevertheless, though I might claim to be neither a skilled storyteller, nor a proficient writer, nor a worthy chronicler of this somewhat majestic – yet unknown – past; all I could do was inscribe these words in this tome, for it was the only means by which I might escape this agonizing, dull cave, much like the hue of my skin.

Terrible. Oh, so terrible – for I was the last of my kin, the sole survivor of eons past. The knight who shone upon the path of no return, amidst darkness, death, and destruction.

Alas, it was not my intent to mock thee, O Lord Gehenna; I humbly beseech thee to turn thine eyes away from this wretched form, for I fear thy beautiful gaze sullied by the sight of this abomination.

Anyway…

At the beginning of this book, this tale shall speak of a boy most unfortunate. Blessed and cursed in an equal measure – an embodiment of all that mortals deem to the 'T', I might say. 'Twas a slang that boys and girls of the future shall employ!!?

In any case… O, you all youthful combatant. This tale…

Shall be penned by mine – apprentice. Of course, it was not due to my indolence. As I had oft remarked, I am aged.

Therefore, I beseeched thee to learn and weave thine own notions and judgments, for minds varied among individuals, and in my estimation, none should have asserted that theirs were superior or more veracious than those of others – for wisdom did not reside solely in a preordained destiny or experiences – nor solely in the journey laid before us by fate – but rather, in the acceptance of those who sought knowledge and continued to learn even against the turbulence. I might have been in error, or perchance I was correct.

Regardless, I bid thee farewell…

...

There is a lot. A lot inside my head. Many memories that – don't make sense or can't be found in the region where I have lived for years. At times, they manifest as sharp pangs in my head, blurry images flickering in and out of focus – both hauntingly familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Occasionally, dreams envelop me in the night, presenting scenes and experiences that I am certain are not mine. I find myself captivated by the warm smile of a woman, gazing at me with an affection I struggle to fully understand, a warmth that settles deep inside my chest.

A tree with its branches and leaves gracefully orchestrates melodies, flowing in a picturesque and elegant symphony, followed shortly by the laughter of children ringing like a distant bell, echoing through the air.

A mist lingers, obscuring my view of the land I yearn to explore. Among the memories, I recall a castle, its chambers adorned with exquisite design. A grand bed, draped in rich red curtains that cascade to the side, tied with delicate, translucent ribbons resembling the wings of a butterfly. Each time I reach out to touch it, the fabric flutters mechanically, leaving a chill upon my dream self's fingers.

In those dreams, in that room, a girl usually twirls merrily in the same spot, her laughter mingling with the air. But then a question arises: what is a bed? I have never even seen one. How do I even know that? And more importantly, who is she?

-El's first note-