The Book of the Elyo - Spoiler:
The History of Atreia
Read the history of this once peaceful planet and you will find a story littered with tragedy and death. Many centuries ago, the Asmodians of upper Atreia and the Elyos of lower Atreia were one people. There was neither divide nor difference between them; indeed they embraced each other as brothers. Now they are each burdened with an unrelenting and deep-rooted hatred of the other, and meet with drawn swords instead of open arms. The events that caused this division have been transcribed below by each side, and though there are common truths in both stories, it has become apparent that both also feature mistaken beliefs and clouded waters. These misconceptions soon became folklore, then historical fact, as each side looked for someone to blame for the Cataclysm which ripped their world asunder. Read on, and find the truth in both before you cast judgement on either. An Introduction to the Book of Elyos
One year ago this very day, they came. Those fiends, those cursed Asmodians. They appeared from nowhere, leaping through one of our portals only a few moments after our legionnaires had left. The cowards. They butchered us where we stood, and though our bravest tried their hardest to resist their attacks, what real hope did they have against these immortals? I ran, I have no shame in saying it, I ran and hid while my friends, and my neighbors, and my family were all slain. Someone needs to remember acts like these, for it is through these actions that a rational being can see which of our people are honorable, and which are wicked. So I ran, and I hid, and when I returned to my settlement I helped bury the dead. "Why?" I asked, "Why would someone do this?" It was then that I realized how little I knew of the history of our planet, and soon after I started researching what happened so many years ago that would result in us being at war with those who we once considered our brothers, the Asmodians. Within these pages you will read all that I have come to learn about Atreia, those of us who once lived and those of us who still live on these sacred lands. Are we an arrogant people? Perhaps. I have seen arrogance amongst the Elyos just as I have seen warmth and generosity. The Asmodians though, I have seen them with my own eyes, and they have made me taste my own blood. Is it not obvious that those creatures, now twisted into such vile monsters, have been cursed by Aion? Is it possible that we Elyos, beautiful as we are, are blessed? Are we a reflection of the environments in which we have survived, and lived, or are they a reflection of us? For the life of me, I do not know. My name is Rafaela, and I have detailed my research below. I can only hope that you find my notes useful and that they can somehow aid you in ridding this beautiful, broken world of these demons that now infest it. Chapter One: Creation
Countless millennia ago, our god, Aion, created Atreia. Our world was a beautiful one, a planet full of life and color with the mighty Tower of Eternity spanning the inner core of our world. This was a time when we and the Asmodians were the same people, simply called humans. Our world was fully encased, and inside our home was illuminated only by the soft, gentle glow of the tower. It nurtured us, gave us hope and supported us in every way. We in turn were fully subservient to our god. We know this not only through stories and tales that have been passed down through the generations, but also in various artifacts and inscriptions that our archaeologists have found at dig sites throughout Elysea. Why Aion had created this world for us remains a mystery. However, in hindsight we can see that our god had a monumental challenge in store for us, as a monstrosity was summoned forth to put our resolve, and the strength of our convictions, to the test. Chapter Two: The Age of the Balaur
They were called the draken, and were appalling beasts to behold. Some of our oldest parables feature these monstrosities, and at night we still tell misbehaving children of their furious anger and thirst for blood. We quickly learned to hide from them, using natural enclaves to keep their keen eyes attracted elsewhere. Still we lost thousands of our kind, while other creatures were entirely wiped out under their relentless onslaught. Others, such as the Mau, and Krall, were enslaved by the draken; only kept alive so that their brute strength could be used against other enemies. These draken, sent by Aion to rule Atreia, quickly became more confident as their numbers swelled. However, as their greed for power grew, so did they start to forget their mission, and indeed, their god. Our stories tell of one day in particular, when something changed in the draken. They became more organized, and a few of their number gained dominance over the others. We later learned these draken called the event their ’awakening’, and it was roughly around this time that their new masters, the five Dragon Lords, renamed their kin with the term which we still use today - the Balaur. The first time our ancestors saw the Balaur, they thought them a new species, such was the difference in physical appearance and ability. It was only after their first attacks that they recognized the sheer brutality of their assailants, and their unrelenting desire to extinguish life, that the truth dawned on our ancestors: These creatures, who had apparently received a blessing from Aion, were the same terrors that had been so ruthlessly wiping race after race from the face of Atreia. The Balaur had by this stage forgotten their mission entirely, becoming arrogant and greedy and demanding more power from Aion than could be provided. Aion refused, threatened by the potential consequences of granting such destructive terrors the same abilities that our benevolent creator possessed. Realizing their potential was being suppressed by Aion, the Balaur eventually turned on their god, rallying forth their more warlike subjects and threatening the Tower of Eternity itself. Chapter Three: The Millennium War
Our ancestors were brave, and stood united in defense of the tower and the god that they had come to love. However, the Balaur, with their sheer brute force, tore through their ranks, slaughtering thousands where they stood. In a desperate move, Aion created the Empyrean lords, 12 powerful guardians tasked with reigning in the marauding Balaur and restoring order to Atreia. Aion also created Aether, a substance which the Empyrean Lords could manipulate to protect themselves and their followers from the Balaur. This substance was also used to create a protective shield around the Tower of Eternity, so large that it allowed our remaining ancestors to rest within its boundaries and slowly, day by day, restore some semblance of civilization. So was started the Millennium War, a conflict that saw the lands and creatures outside our Aetheric shield burn and scream in agony as the Balaur took out their frustrations on anything that dared show even the slightest resistance. The inscriptions that we still have show our people prospering during this time as the Empyrean Lords bravely fought against the Balaur, eventually taking with them the humans that were capable of utilizing the Aether in similar ways to these Empyrean Lords. These individuals became known as Daeva, and in the full passage of time would unlock power far greater than our own. They were virtually demi-gods, and would soon become instrumental in shaping our future. Indeed, their ability to fly led many of us to believe they were angels, sent by Aion to bring order and stability to our world. The war raged for years, and while one side would occasionally gain the upper hand, it seemed that this contest was finely balanced indeed. If one side were to eventually claim victory, the cost to their own people would be almost unbearable. Afraid of a crippling pyrrhic victory, some of our Empyrean Lords started looking at other ways of ending this struggle.... Chapter Four: Hope
Of all the Empyrean Lords, the one who spoke most to us, the people, was a beautiful figure named Ariel. On one of her first evenings on Atreia, Ariel came down from the tower of Aion and spoke with us around our campfire. By all accounts, she was patient and caring, and told us everything that we needed to hear. The Balaur, mighty and terrifying as they were, would not dare cross the boundaries of the Aetheric shield. For the first time in many, many years, we were actually safe. We still have the stone carving depicting that evening, showing this great female figure, with open arms, watching us weep tears of joy and relief, as we celebrated for the first time in many, many years. I tell you of Ariel now, because it was she who first recognized the wisdom in Lord Israphel’s unexpected proposal and saw that peace was the only option. It was she who had the foresight to know that victory, if possible at all, would almost certainly cripple us; and it was she who was brave enough to confront her fellow Empyrean Lords, and condemn their thirst for endless battle as the vainglory it truly was. She echoed Israphel’s view that if we were still trapped in this same war after one thousand years, then what guarantee would we have that this war wouldn’t still be raging after two, three, or ten thousand years? Ariel saw, as Israphel had seen, that by continuing this exhausting war, we risked losing more than mere numbers. We would lose the one thing that elevated us above the Balaur, and the other ferocious beasts within our world: our humanity. It was well known that Israphel detested the Balaur more than any other. If he, even he, could overcome his loathing in the name of peace, then everyone could – indeed, should – follow his example. While we have no records of what exactly was said between the Empyrean Lords in the wake of Israphel’s announcement, we know there was something of a dispute between Ariel and some of the more warlike Lords. It was clear the decision to seek peace would not go unopposed, and for the first time, rifts appeared in our united front. But even the warmongers and glory-hounds, rant and froth as they might, could not deny the authority of Israphel and Siel acting in concert as Guardians of the Tower. Lady Ariel and the four blessed Lords who took her side argued for many long hours, but it was only Lady Siel’s agreement that sealed the issue once and for all. The Guardians had spoken: there would be peace. Our forefathers rejoiced. How could they not? The bombastic wrath of Lord Azphel and his underlings was just so much sound and fury, the petulance of children denied. As they winged their way into the cold night, none doubted that they would be back eventually, once tempers had had a chance to cool. The path was clearly laid before us now, and none would dare to rebel. Ariel led her faithful in a song of praise and thanks to Aion, and for the first time in many, many centuries, we dared to hope. Chapter Five: The Cataclysm
The morning of the peace conference dawned. Our ancestors awoke to find the five Dragon Lords, leaders of the Balaur, standing alone outside the Aetheric Field. The drawings we have of the day show them to be physically huge creatures, much larger than the other Balaur. Siel and Israphel, the two Empyrean Lords charged with protecting the tower itself, lowered the Aetheric Field, and invited the Dragon Lords inside the tower for negotiations. Here was a chance for these creatures to destroy us entirely, and yet they chose not to, instead walking peacefully through our settlements and into the tower. Perhaps we had gained their respect through our resilience and determination, and perhaps this trust that we, and Ariel, had placed in them was not misplaced at all. Azphel was present, and with him his cronies, their faces dark. The peace conference began, and for a short while negotiations were progressing well. Then, in a moment’s breath, it happened. We still speak of the events that followed that day, of the sudden shouts of panic, of the sickening certainty that gripped us all: the warmongers would have their way, even if they had to sacrifice all of Atreia to achieve it. We saw Azphel move swiftly and suddenly, and the Dragon Lord Vitra collapse. The Balaur did not waste time with words. In an instant, there was carnage and chaos. Their hatred redoubled, they hacked their way past us and into the very substance of Aion itself. The walls of the Tower shivered and cracked, coming away in titanic shards. Ariel wept as she strove to hold the Tower of Eternity intact. Sent to its southern base to lend her energy to the Tower, along with all of her attendant Lords, she was now all that stood between Atreia and destruction. Azphel and his group, sent northwards with the same purpose, were no doubt too enthralled with the sudden resumption of hostilities to do their duty and hold the Tower intact. For despite Ariel’s striving, the Lords failed. The Tower gave a mighty groan, buckled and shattered from end to end. Aion fell. I cannot speak of the fear that gripped our forefathers when the great tower that spanned the interior of Atreia suddenly shifted and cracked. We tell tales of thousands running for their lives, pandemonium in their wake. Realizing that Atreia itself was dying, Siel and Israphel sacrificed themselves. They each drained their bodies of Aether, their blood, and in their final moments used it to safeguard our people. Millions died in the event which we now know as the Cataclysm. Finally, as the debris settled, we could see what had happened to our beautiful world: Aion, the Tower of Eternity, was shattered, and our world was torn in two. Chapter Six: Deliverance
I am one of the Elyos, the people who found themselves on the lower half of Atreia, our new world which we labeled Elysea. At first, our eyes burned under the virgin light of our nearby star, so fierce compared to the cool, calm glow that had been emanating from our tower before it had shattered. We soon adapted, though, and found ourselves celebrating this newfound world on which we lived. Our people could look skywards and see the darkened remains of upper Atreia, spinning slowly as it clung on desperately to our glorious sanctuary. The light from our new star was magnificent, and turned our once meager fields into bountiful pastures, just as it turned us into such beautiful beings. Our skin glowed with vigor, our hearts beat strong and sure, and soon we had found our feet. Aion, some quickly resolved, had meant for this to happen. We were the Elyos: Aion’s chosen few, and we had been delivered by our god to paradise! This was a world which not even the Balaur could reach - we learned from Ariel that they had been banished by Siel and Israphel to an unknown void, just before those noble Daeva sacrificed themselves during the Epic Cataclysm. The five Empyrean Lords who were sent by Siel and Israphel took us under their wing, renaming themselves the Seraphim Lords. Our Seraphim Lords told our ancestors of their struggle, and how the other five Empyrean lords had provoked and insulted the Balaur, goading them towards further conflict. Our world, once so stable and harmonious, was now rent in two, and we were told it was all because of the actions of the other four Empyrean lords and their cursed leader, Azphel. We began rebuilding our lives, and with them our new city, a glorious creation fitting for our world and our Lords, to be named Sanctum. We were sworn to protect our new home, and the strongest Daeva amongst us were appointed guardians over it by our Seraphim Lords. Seven hundred and fifty years passed on Atreia in this manner. We were at peace for the most part, and we prospered as best we could. However, things were about to change again, as our planet started to heal itself. Chapter Seven: The Abyss
All that remained of our great tower following the Cataclysm were two stumped remains, one on our world, the other still visible on Atreia’s upper half. The majority of the tower had been destroyed, its remains left scattered over the two halves of our world. One day, however, the earth around these shattered remains began to shift, and slowly the fragments levitated themselves into the air. We sent our bravest Guardians to investigate the phenomenon, and they discovered portals leading to huge floating chunks of theTower of Eternity, in a bizarre realm where Aether flowed like water. We labeled this world the Abyss, and slowly our Daeva ventured forth, exploring this new and volatile environment. They found a world rich in the Aether that Aion had granted to the Empyrean Lords, and which the Daeva had managed to manipulate when we were at war with the Balaur. Many Daeva were lost, though; these portals were unstable, and once closed seemed to stay shut, exiling anyone who had gone through. One day another portal opened, larger and more stable than the others. A Guardian of ours by the name of Deltras passed through it, and on the other side, he found something astounding. His legion, the Storm Legion, were standing on the upper half of Atreia, and when they looked across the sky, they didn’t see the shaded remains of the Aion tower, and the upper half of Atreia, but instead saw their own world of Elysea, bathed in warm sunlight. Slowly, cautiously, they moved on, carefully exploring this strange land which once was part of their home. It was now a dark and foreboding place, full of whispers and fleeting shadows. There they discovered the Asmodians, men and women who were once our brothers, but now had been warped into twisted and foul creatures. Even worse, these nightmares were led by one of the murderous Empyrean Lords, a cruel being named Zikel. It was dark; our Daeva could not see well, and were soon captured by Zikel and his monsters. This being, who we had once revered alongside the mighty Ariel, threw Deltras to the ground, demanding he curse the Seraphim Lords for their "weakness". Deltras, brave and noble as he always was, kept the pride of the Elyos. He refused to curse the Seraphim Lords, and instead cursed arrogant Zikel to his face. The Asmodians attacked, and those of us who were waiting on the other side of the portal saw only two of our number return, bloodied and injured. Chapter Eight: A New Enemy, an Old Enemy
We were stunned. Stunned that anyone had managed to survive on that desolate, frozen wasteland above us, stunned at what these Asmodians had been turned into. Quickly we mobilized our legions, and prepared for war. Aion had a further test for our resolve, though, as a third stable portal opened and brought forth a horror we hoped to never see again - the Balaur. Quickly they consolidated their forces, summoning the Krall and Mau back to their side, as well as forcing other weaker races into submission. Their fury was greater than ever before, and it is us who now bear the brunt of their anger. We shall endure. We Elyos are the light of a new dawn, and the promise of a better tomorrow. We are life, and the joy of life; and more, we are the mail-clad fist that would strike down those who seek to extinguish our light. Even so, there is not one of us, from the least to the greatest, who has not suffered from doubts. Were we truly favored by Aion? Are our leaders honest and wise? Will our great mission, to bring all lands under the enlightened and civilizing governance of the Elyos, ever succeed? Are we truly any better than the monsters we oppose? And the deepest, most treacherous doubt of all: are we in the right? These pangs of the soul cannot be assuaged by thought and debate. They require an appeal to the spirit. A legend, very old now – possibly dating back to the Cataclysm - tells of a young Elyos who was wracked by doubts, and prayed to the Lady Ariel for guidance. Appearing to him in a vision of the gentlest glory, she laid her hand upon his shoulder and spoke three simple words: ’Faith and arms.’ Let those young Elyos who read my words take heed. Do not argue, do not fret: take up arms in the name of the Seraphim Lords, and strike! When we march together, our Legions shining bright as burnished steel, and the love of our Lady filling our hearts, then all doubts vanish with the morning dew. Faith alone is admirable piety, true, but the Elyos refuse to be passive martyrs. Martial might alone, untempered by the guidance of the higher powers, decays to the mere brutality of the Asmodians, and the spear-shaking games of petty warlords. But faith and arms together, joined in the sacred troth of Elysea, have the power to preserve our noble vision and seal the promise of a better future for all. We owe that much to those who have gone before. Our world, this land in which we live, was given the slightest and most fragile of lifelines by Siel and Israphel. We believed that this lifeline would sustain us, allow us the opportunity to savor and enjoy our victory over the Asmodian fiends that once dared to call us our brothers. However, that all changed, when we learned, completely by accident, of something terrifying... Atreia is dying. Our world bleeds Aether continually through the grand Abyss, and unless this bleed is controlled, stemmed, then this life source will be exhausted. Our world, only held together by Siel and Israphel’s final sacrificial act, will simply fall apart, and the empty halves which once made this great planet will drift through space forever. All that lives here will be extinguished in the blink of an eye, and all that we have achieved, all that we have worked for, will be lost. Panicked, our priests and our theorists began researching possible solutions. It was only then that we found a solution. The Abyss is an echo of the great Tower of Eternity that once stood in the midst of our world. It exists only because of the immense arcane forces that still resonate between the two tower stumps... a field of unnatural energy, like that which would arise between the poles of a colossal magnet. Were we to destroy the Asmodian Tower of Darkness, that field would collapse, closing the Abyss forever. Not only would we finally rid this world of their dark and ugly scar, we would save our world from destruction, and deliver our people to the eternal paradise granted to us by Aion! This is our final test, our final hurdle before we are able to reap our reward. We must destroy the Asmodians and their pathetic world: we must save Atreia. Faith and arms! - Rafaela Semperti. Epilogue
And so we reach the present day, when children on both sides are being readied for battle, and when their mettle is tested for the first time in centuries. The Shedim Lords and Seraphim Lords have seen skirmishes slip into full-scale war, and the Balaur, once banished to the abyss during the Cataclysm, have awoken to wreak havoc once more. New mutations, the Naga and the Draconute, have arisen from the Balaur ranks. In the gentle light of an eternal summer, the five Seraphim Lords who once called for peace are mobilizing their people for war. The Elyos fight in the name of pride, nobility, and justice, the same humane qualities that prompted Lady Ariel and her allies to seize upon the tenuous prospect of peace, long ago. The Daeva of the Elyos see themselves as all that is best in humanity, exalted and empowered. If Atreia is ever to be healed, the frenzied Asmodians must be destroyed, their menace ended forever. Across unimaginable gulfs of space, far to the north in a land of shadows, the Shedim Lords prepare to rend the flesh of Elyos and Balaur alike. Shaped by their environment into rugged survivors and yet fiercely loyal to kin and comrade, the Asmodians have no time for peace, tolerance or second chances. Peace will only come when every enemy lies dead. They are unwilling either to forgive or to forget and have sworn to bring a furious revenge down those whose ’weakness’ they believe caused the destruction of the Tower of Eternity. The faction with which you choose to side will have severe ramifications for the people of Atreia. The addition of even one more shining protector or dark avenger may decide the war’s eventual outcome. A world hangs in the balance. Choose your allegiance carefully.
Elyos Michael Tom Laz |
The Book of the Asmodians - Spoiler:
The History of Atreia The History of Atreia edit
Read the history of this once peaceful planet and you will find a story littered with tragedy and death. Many centuries ago, the Asmodians of upper Atreia and the Elyos of lower Atreia were one people. There was neither divide nor difference between them; indeed they embraced each other as brothers. Now they are each burdened with an unrelenting and deep-rooted hatred of the other, and meet with drawn swords instead of open arms.
The events that caused this division have been transcribed below by each side, and though there are common truths in both stories, it has become apparent that both also feature mistaken beliefs and clouded waters. These misconceptions soon became folklore, then historical fact, as each side looked for someone to blame for the Cataclysm which ripped their world asunder.
Read on, and find the truth in both before you cast judgement on either. An Introduction to the Book of Asmodians An Introduction to the Book of Asmodians edit
It wasn’t always like this. At one time the two sides of this world were as one, we were united as brothers. We looked the same, we had the same ideals and we shared a common purpose: to protect the Tower of Eternity. When they failed, they destroyed everything. Our world, our people... were ripped apart.
In the lower half of this world, the soulless Elyos live out a shallow, but charmed existence tempered with greed, misplaced pride and crushing arrogance. Don’t be fooled by their saintly appearance, beneath their fair skin lurks the very insolence that tore Atreia asunder.
We, the Asmodians, call the upper half of Atreia home, though it is a home few would choose. After the Cataclysm we were thrust into darkness, into the unknown, and we had no choice other than to adapt... to survive. Each and every day our world taught us something new, opened our eyes to new possibilities and gave us the unwavering strength to rebuild our lives once again. It is through those hard earned lessons that we have achieved so much. Aion has given us the opportunity to right our wrongs, an opportunity which we must seize.
But wait, I am getting ahead of myself. First an introduction, my name is Kineas and I am a Daeva, an immortal created during the great struggle against the Balaur. I, along with my people, have done everything necessary to secure our rightful place in Atreia, and we will do anything to protect what is rightfully ours. If it is war the Elyos crave, then they shall have it crammed down their tanned throats until they can stomach no more. The time for peace is long gone. All that is left is retribution.
I have written this diary to recount the years that led to our current standing, maybe you will come to understand what caused this world of ours to change so.
Come now - read, and learn what it is to be an Asmodian!
Chapter One: Unity Chapter One: Unity edit
I’ll first speak of the era that existed even before my time. Our stories tell tales of green lands and bountiful pastures, a world in which we could prosper and grow happy with our families. This was the era that existed even before the Elyos and Asmodians existed, when we were simply known as humans. Atreia was one. A whole. As we were one with each other, there was no divide, not between our worlds, nor between our people.
Years passed like this, and by all accounts our ancestors were content. I cannot help but feel anger at this notion, that they did not celebrate this paradise they were given, and that there was even a notion that this world was taken for granted. However, knowing what has happened since this time gives context, and perhaps it is only through the benefit of hindsight that we can understand those treasures that we once had. Perhaps even this wasteland that we now call home is a paradise compared to some other land, though I find it difficult to imagine a place more testing than this.
Things would soon change though. Little did we know the horror Aion had in store for us, as our world was about to see a great and lingering nightmare come crashing down, baring vicious teeth and an uncontrollable thirst for war.
Chapter Two: An Ungodly Creation Chapter Two: An Ungodly Creation edit
These nightmares I speak of, they were called the draken, and were terrifying creatures to behold. Huge and heavy, our makeshift weapons were useless against their toughened hides. Worse still, they could spread their pinions and take to the skies in a moment’s notice, rendering our meager defenses useless in a heartbeat. Soon our people learned to hide from the draken, and without a natural predator, their numbers and confidence grew in equal measure. Before long, their darkened silhouettes, created by Aion to rule our world, were a common sight in the sky.
Their desire for power was insatiable; entire species withered and died under their fury as the draken descended. They brought burning infernos with them and in their wake left little more than charred and ruined lands. Soon after the initial carnage these beasts started displaying their intelligence. After realizing the warlike tendencies of the Krall and the Mau, the draken chose not destroy them, but instead subjugated their remaining numbers, saving them only after they had sworn eternal allegiance to their new masters. It was around this time that the draken experienced something of an evolution, as some of their numbers started to grow larger, stronger and more intelligent than their peers. These creatures were called Dragons, not draken, and of their number, five took command of the rest. These five became known as the Dragon Lords.
These five, now awakened, quickly reorganized their forces and established military ranks throughout their society. They chose to rename their people "The Balaur". With their new title, these beasts attacked again with renewed vigor, decimating the few remaining groups who dared resist submission.
Still they were not satisfied, and in seeking more powerful opponents, turned their attention to the god of Atreia, Aion, and demanded the same powers that our creator wielded. When Aion refused, the Balaur, blinded with rage and driven by greed, turned on our god, and gathered their forces for an attack on the great Tower of Eternity. Chapter Three: The Millennium War Chapter Three: The Millennium War edit
Aion’s hand was forced, and in retaliation created twelve figures named the Empyrean Lords. These creatures possessed a beauty and strength far beyond anything we had ever seen before, and like the Balaur, could take flight through a strange and curious substance called Aether. Our faith in our god, and our devotion to Atreia had been recognized: these creatures were created in our image, and had come to save the world which so many of us had learned to call home.
The inevitable battle started, which soon turned into a long and bloody war. We had found protection around the tower, inside the Aetheric shield our Empyrean Lords had created for us. However, the shield was small, and the land outside of its boundaries stayed under the control of the Balaur. Outside of the Aetheric shield our Empyrean Lords were weakened just as the Balaur were weakened inside it, and once the Balaur realized this, they would line up innocent creatures just outside its boundary and butcher them in an attempt to lure our Lords out. They were cruel creatures, and their actions only solidified our hatred for them.
This was the time which we later came to call the Millennium War, a time in which we humans could prosper once again under the protective wings of our Empyrean Lords. This was also the time during which I was born, and by the time I had grown into a young man, I found the Aether that Aion granted this world had an adverse but drastic affect on me. The Aether responded to me, and I to it, and soon my talents were noticed by others who our people had only seen on occasion. These others, these Daeva, were human at birth, but possessed an innate ability to manipulate the Aether that was used by the Empyrean Lords. Slowly but surely I learned to master these abilities, and while at first I could only chill the air around me, within months I could freeze opponents into place, and summon balls of fire to engulf the Balaur. I found myself revered, much like a god, as those who had once held me close to their breast now placed me on a mighty pedestal. The feeling that I, the son of a simple farmer, could cause suffering to these Balaur was intoxicating - this was a blessing from Aion that I could never even hope to repay.
Soon the number of Daeva swelled enough for our Empyrean Lords to mobilize us into a fighting force. I joined the legion, and progressed quickly through the ranks, leaving my child, an infant boy named Phalaris, behind. Chapter Four: Cowardice Chapter Four: Cowardice edit
I progressed further through the ranks. My skills as a sorcerer were superior to many of the other Daeva and within the year I was granted control of a full legion. The fighting was fierce, and while we were often placed in danger before the Balaur, our Empyrean Lords were always careful to protect us. Our skills and tactics improved, and eventually we were able to start killing their younger, more foolish dragons, where before we would be forced to retreat behind our Aetheric shield. These were small steps, but as every parent knows, a child must learn to walk before they can run.
Then came the day that sent us all staggering.
Lord Israphel, one of the two Guardians of the Tower of Eternity - Lord Israphel, who despised the Dragon Lords like no other – declared that we should make peace with them. The purpose of the war, he reasoned, was not to annihilate the Balaur. It was to protect Aion.
I was astonished; astonished that one of our saviors had lost his resolve so easily, astonished that his courage and fierce determination had slipped so... so suddenly. There was consternation among the Empyrean Lords at first. At that time, even the prospect of making peace was unthinkable... a travesty. It seemed we were all of one mind. Israphel’s proposal was absurd.
And yet, it was not long before the weaker Lords showed they had never truly had the stomach for the fight, and longed for the burden of honor to be lifted from them. Lady Ariel was the first to capitulate, and with honeyed words she spoke of Israphel’s wisdom, his seniority, his bravery – bravery! – in daring to propose peace. She had the audacity to tell us how we, as Daeva, should think and act.
How quickly she and her camp followers forgot the sacrifices of a thousand years. What petty value they placed upon the shed blood of so many of our kin.
But others of the Lords still had true steel in their spirits. As a Daeva I had grown to know some of our Lords, and the one with whom I worked best was a great and dignified Lord named Azphel. His resolve was always strong, and it was on his missions that we always had the most success. His manner and his ability were an inspiration to many of us; and so when Ariel’s insipid pleading began to sway some, and I saw the grimace on Azphel’s face, I knew where my own allegiance lay. He stood to speak, and we stood with him. He berated Ariel for her disdain for the honored dead, and blasted the peace initiative as a naive and misguided waste of time.
The hall erupted with fury. It still rings in my ears... the roaring, the confusion, the words of accusation and hate, as each side rallied against the other. Beyond, I saw Israphel speaking impassioned words to Siel, who listened gravely. Israphel insisted that we could defend Aion by working towards peace, rather than through constant warfare. To my horror, Siel was nodding.
To preserve some fragment of concord, all of us agreed to depart the grand hall and leave the Twelve Empyrean Lords to their discussion. I went with comrades-in-arms who knew Lord Azphel’s side to be the only just one; but others went slinking off into the night, in the company of their fellow cowards, in groups of their own. Already we were forming into separate camps, according to whether we sided with the worthy or the weak.
We waited patiently for the outcome that night. I remember it well; I recall looking across our world, seeing plumes of fire burning in the distance, and knowing there was no way that peace would ever exist between the Balaur and us. I thought back and remembered the decades of perpetual fighting, remembered those dark soulless eyes, unblinking and unrelenting as they massacred my friends and my family, for no better reason than a simple, bestial desire for domination.
I knew Siel would reject Israphel’s proposal. I knew that Azphel would argue his case, our case, and that the others, even Lady Ariel herself, would see sense and agree. I knew this; and yet when the Empyrean Lords eventually emerged, the decision that was made shook my nerves, and left me and my legion reeling. Lady Siel had succumbed. For all our protests, she and Israphel, as Guardians of the Tower, held final authority over the Twelve. The decision was final. We were to treat with the Balaur. Already I heard Ariel’s voice raised in jubilant triumph, and the sound of her four cohorts singing some inane chant of peace.
Azphel came forth, his face pure fury. As he left, I took flight after him, a significant number of my fellow Daeva in tow. Chapter Five: The Cataclysm Chapter Five: The Cataclysm edit
So, within days, the misguided peace conference began. As a mark of respect to the five Dragon Lords, the Aetheric Field around the tower was lowered, and they were invited inside this colossal structure for the negotiations. A lifetime passed in the space of a few minutes. I looked into the eyes of my legionnaires, and saw the mistrust and anger that our convictions had been so weak as to let these beasts, which would have us kneel before them even now, treat with us. I turned to my most trusted centurion, and went to speak with him, when, as quick as a click of a finger, everything changed. There was shouting, confusion, a rout. One of the Balaur had fallen, and Lord Azphel was standing ready to fight, his eyes blazing.
The Balaur attacked. Voices screamed for Siel and Israphel to raise the Aetheric Field once again, but for the second time, they failed us. Lost in the tumult, they could not act in concert to defend the Tower. Under the Balaur’s raging claws and weapons, the Tower began to splinter and fragment.
I remember Israphel’s tortured face, wracked with guilt, as he directed Lord Azphel and all his Daeva legions to the north, while Siel marshalled Ariel and hers to the south. There was one remaining hope. Working in two groups, one at each end of the Tower, the Empyrean Lords would do all in their power to prevent the Tower’s collapse.
We held fast. Those in the South, we now know, did not.
In an instant our world was plunged into darkness as the tower’s light was snuffed out. The people turned, screaming as they
ran in all directions.
I remember that moment as though it were yesterday; I remember looking up and watching shards of the tower snapping and falling, illuminated only by the flickering light of the great structure. I remember standing there, rooted to the spot as a huge fragment splintered from the tower, and began to fall towards me. I remember that day well... it was the day I found the other gift that being a Daeva granted me: immortality.
I awoke, looked across our great world, and saw Atreia shattered into two halves. The lower half had been engulfed in a fierce and bright light, while ours had been plunged into cold, desolate darkness.
The peace conference was over.
Chapter Six: Aftermath Chapter Six: Aftermath edit
Slowly our eyes adjusted, and slowly we found each other. Our people were distraught, terrified: no-one knew how we had survived at all. I told the people that I could find to make camp and stay warm; I then set off towards the stump that was the base of our tower.
It was there that I found a blessing: the five Empyrean Lords who had been sent to hold Aion intact, still alive. They gathered us all together, told us that our world had changed forever, and told us why. Worse still was the cost of this attempted peace: we had lost millions, and Siel and Israphel, the two Guardians of the Tower, had sacrificed themselves so that we might live in their stead. In life they had committed a great folly, but their deaths had not been without honor, and in silence we remembered them.
I returned to our makeshift camp soon after and helped to construct a huge fire to attract other survivors. Over the next few days, thousands would come to us, battered, bruised, and distraught at the events that had transpired. I was fortunate enough to find Phalaris, my child, amongst the survivors, though no-one else that I had known from my settlement had survived.
Days passed, then weeks. It became apparent that our world, our shattered world, had stabilized, and our destiny was once again in our hands. Aion, it seemed, had departed, as had the Aether that had empowered me. For the first time in a long while, I felt vulnerable again. Not wanting to let fear take control of my wits, I spoke with Azphel, and set about plans for founding a new home for us all.
Seven hundred and fifty long years passed, and in that time I saw a great many things change. We soon ran out of firewood, though our eyes were already adapting to the encroaching darkness. Our town was built, named Pandaemonium, and soon expanded into a great city. I saw our people flourish, adapt, evolve against all odds, always under the direction of our Shedim Lords, the five Empyrean Lords who had safeguarded our half of the world that fateful day.
Our evolution took on physical characteristics too; our skin grew pale in this engulfing darkness, and the hard ground, littered with razor-sharp debris, turned our feet into claws. Our hands, too, acquired graceful talons, as if to say that none of our race would ever go unarmed again. These marks were once difficult for me to accept, but if they were necessary for our survival, and they were, then we had no choice but to carry their burden. To us, they were the price of Israphel’s attempted peace, which Ariel had been fool enough to support.
In that time I also saw Phalaris grow old and die, along with his children, and theirs. Such is the life of the Daeva. Chapter Seven: The Abyss Chapter Seven: The Abyss edit
One day a curious thing happened. The shards of the great tower that had plunged into our soft land started emanating light again, and then pulled themselves from the ground and into the air around us. Azphel ordered the Archon, the strongest of our Daeva, and the unit of which I was now a part, to investigate.
We left straight away, and found a portal of some description which took us to a world, somewhere between Asmodae and the lower half of Atreia, where pillars of rock floated in the air. This was a world where the Aether that I relied on for my powers was present in abundance, and I felt a sense of enormous relief upon finding my abilities still intact. I returned to Pandaemonium and told our Shedim Lords what we had seen. Azphel immediately ordered other Archon to guard this portal, and when I asked why, he did not answer, but instead simply gazed up at the sky, towards the lower half of Atreia.
Two days later, while we were planning a second expedition through the portal, we noticed our guards stationed in Morheim had not reported in to us. Zikel, one of the Shedim Lords and our god of destruction, took the remaining Archon, including myself, to investigate.
We hadn’t travelled long when we found a group of men, claiming to be from the lower half of Atreia, standing in their stead, their weapons drawn. These beings looked like angels, and though they said little, they cast judgment on us instantly. Imagine - being judged for a crime that they, not us, had committed! It was not us who had been soft-hearted cretins, welcoming the Dragon Lords into our tower during full-scale war - it was them!
Zikel’s rage was more than evident, and he threw these "Elyos" to the ground, demanding they curse Nezakan, one of the Empyrean Lords who was weak enough to call for peace with the Balaur. Time, Zikel spat, had proven which side was at fault. Would these Elyos acknowledge their Lords’ mistake, and condemn them for their foolishness?
Their leader, a man named Deltras, refused. With the pride that we now know is the taint of all the Elyos, he piously refused to blame his own Lords, cursing Zikel instead. Swords were drawn, and we charged, cutting them down like the cowards that they were. Still, some of their numbers escaped; most fled towards our home city where in their anger they butchered our women and children before we finished them. Two fled back to their homeland, bloodied but not vanquished.
Not yet. Chapter Eight: A New Enemy, an Old Enemy Chapter Eight: A New Enemy, an Old Enemy edit
We returned to Pandaemonium that day, and straight away set about gathering our forces for a war against these Elyos. The very next day we met in combat again, and full-scale war broke out between our people. Soon, a further test would present itself as the Balaur, long exiled inside the abyss, found a way out from their prison. Their thirst for blood was just as insatiable as before, and with their old allies by their side again their power cannot be underestimated.
The Elyos, in seeking to remake themselves as creatures of tawdry brightness and feigned moral superiority, have only succeeded in cutting themselves off from those deep roots of history which give us Asmodians our strength. They wish to forget the past, to dismiss the blood that was shed in their names by our common ancestors, as if it was a humiliating stain.
But we Asmodians have not dishonored our past. When we found one another for the first time in that deep night, bloodied but unbroken upon the shattered shores of Asmodae, we sought for a watchword by which we might know our own... for we had not yet taken on our new forms, and there were many strange faces there in the firelight.
’Blood for blood’, came a whisper from out of the darkness, and to this day we know not who may have said it... some say Azphel, some Zikel, and some claim Aion itself, blessing us with its dying breath, spoke to us so. But when the next day dawned, pale and grim, those words were on the lips of all, and none cared what their source may have been.
Blood must be shed, to avenge those who shed their blood for us. And those of us who are of the blood – the loyal ones, the righteous ones who clung together in the long, long nights thereafter – shall stand by and support one another. The whisper has echoed down the centuries, passed from mothers to sons, fathers to daughters, captains to soldiers, kin to kin. Like our blood itself, it warms us and braces us for the fight.
And now we have discovered that which has given our mission a true sense of urgency. With every passing breath, our planet haemorrhages Aether out of our atmosphere. We spent many months searching for the source of this bleed, searching throughout the Abyss, and Asmodae, when it was right in front of us.
It’s the two towers. A mighty resonance still exists between them, vibrating invisibly between the two halves of our sundered world. As if in memory of the lost Tower of Eternity, they cry out to each other across the void, and it is this reverberation that has created the Abyss.
The Abyss absorbs Aether, draining it away like water pouring into a crevasse. Now the Aether is spread thinner and thinner with each passing day, and will soon start affecting our Daeva, and our planet. Atreia is still only held together by the Aetheric ties Siel and Israphel created when they drained their own ethereal bodies of Aether, a process which effectively ended their own lives. Soon the Abyss will start to weaken these ties, and if they were to break, our atmosphere would collapse, and everyone on this planet will perish.
There remains one viable tactic. The resonance cannot continue if only one stump of the tower survives. Our path is clear: we must destroy the Tower of Light. Only then will we end this bleed and safeguard the lives of the Asmodian people from the arrogant tyranny the Elyos threaten us with.
We will not hesitate this time. There will be no staying of our blades, only a brutal and irresistible wave of destruction that will finally rid our home of the arrogant and naïve fools which still infest our lands.
Our fate is once again in our own hands. Blood for blood, our watchword, stands as true as it is ever did, and with steeled Asmodians either side of me, we will not stop, and we will not falter. This time, we will not fail.
- Kineas, Praefectus Castrorum of the Asmodian Archon Epilogue Epilogue edit
And so we reach the present day, when children on both sides are being readied for battle, and when their mettle is tested for the first time in centuries. The Shedim Lords and Seraphim Lords have seen skirmishes slip into full-scale war, and the Balaur, once banished to the abyss during the Cataclysm, have awoken to wreak havoc once more. New mutations, the Naga and the Draconute, have arisen from the Balaur ranks.
In the gentle light of an eternal summer, the five Seraphim Lords who once called for peace are mobilizing their people for war. The Elyos fight in the name of pride, nobility, and justice, the same humane qualities that prompted Lady Ariel and her allies to seize upon the tenuous prospect of peace, long ago. The Daeva of the Elyos see themselves as all that is best in humanity, exalted and empowered. If Atreia is ever to be healed, the frenzied Asmodians must be destroyed, their menace ended forever.
Across unimaginable gulfs of space, far to the north in a land of shadows, the Shedim Lords prepare to rend the flesh of Elyos and Balaur alike. Shaped by their environment into rugged survivors and yet fiercely loyal to kin and comrade, the Asmodians have no time for peace, tolerance or second chances. Peace will only come when every enemy lies dead. They are unwilling either to forgive or to forget and have sworn to bring a furious revenge down those whose ’weakness’ they believe caused the destruction of the Tower of Eternity.
The faction with which you choose to side will have severe ramifications for the people of Atreia. The addition of even one more shining protector or dark avenger may decide the war’s eventual outcome.
A world hangs in the balance. Choose your allegiance carefully.
AsmodiansAnna Chris |