Story
In the days before the Dawn of All Things, there reigned the Primordial Night, vast and unfathomable, where darkness was so profound that even time itself seemed lost in its endless depths. For aeons, this darkness held sway, unchallenged, until, against all foretelling, a light was born. At first, it was but a fleeting spark, yet it grew in brilliance, and as bright fires in the void, stars began to pierce the veil of shadow, scattering across the boundless heavens. Around these beacons of light, the dust of creation swirled, heralding the birth of the realms of the cosmos. As the ages unfolded, the Eternal Night cast its gaze upon a single world, where mortals battled against the cruel trials of their existence.
Moved by a purpose inscrutable, the Darkness chose to act, gifting a fragment of its essence to a chosen one, transforming him into its Herald. This being was bestowed with knowledge, power, and a life that to mortal eyes seemed endless, a gift to guide his people toward a greater destiny. As humanity spread, so too did the Night forge more heralds, though with each, the darkness was diminished, yet its purpose remained, to lead the world toward the unknown fate of the Eternal Night.
Mankind prospered, yet with glory came ambition, and with ambition, corruption. Among them, the first to rise against his fate was Melkarath, greatest of the Heralds, he who, in his pride, betrayed the legacy of his father and shattered the sacred covenant between men and the Eternal Night. Upon his fall, when the profane radiance consumed him and he took the name Melkaroth, Lord of Light, he was not alone in his heresy. With him, many of the ancient Heralds, once steadfast protectors of the Darkness, were seduced by the promise of its brilliance. Transfigured by their new form, they proclaimed themselves the rulers of men, and in their blind arrogance, they betrayed the balance of the world. Thus was the great divide forged: those still loyal to the Darkness saw their lands besieged, their homes laid to ruin, their very existence threatened by those who, once brothers, had now become Heralds of the Light.
Thus, war erupted. And beneath the searing brilliance of the Light, the world was sundered; its kingdoms consumed by fire, its fields reduced to ash, its people bent to the will of the new lords of radiance, their flesh and spirit corrupted by the undying flame that promised them power and eternity. Yet the Heralds who remained true to the Darkness did not yield. They, the guardians of the old order, rose against the usurpers, fighting not only for the survival of their kind but for the very soul of the world. Under the dominion of the Light, mankind fell into barbarism, their forms twisted by a power not meant for them, their minds shackled by the will of a fire that should never have been awakened. Their bodies became but a memory of what once was, and their souls, once free, were bound in chains to the promise of a corrupted immortality. The Lord of Darkness beheld, with sorrow, the ruin of His creation, the treachery of His firstborn sons, and the wretched fate their rebellion had wrought upon the world.
Yet even in the deepest night, hope endures. Among the whispers of the Darkness, there was a prophecy—of a redeemer who would come when all seemed lost. A final warrior, born of shadow, forged in despair, destined to cleanse the corruption of the Light and restore balance to a world teetering on the brink of oblivion. When the last embers of the flames had turned to dust, when the Night itself seemed vanquished, he would arise. And with him, the Darkness would reclaim its eternal right.