Stories Of Zoltah

Jeio

If you are reading this scroll, then it means I am no longer standing guard over Zoltah, or worse- our beloved home is no more. As you may not be aware, there are four worlds in the cosmos endowed with the gift of life. First is Earth, where the humans go about their existence, utterly unaware of what awaits elsewhere. Then Noria; a world exposed to the mystical though not of their own choosing. There, giants roam free and wild, trolls engage in relentless attacks and ogres continually hunt, spurred on by an insatiable appetite for flesh. Caught in the midst of all the untold horrors, are the powerless elves... dwelling nomadically within the vast Norian forests. And of course, there is another called Adyssia... a world somewhat like earth owing to its magicless inhabitants. A few celestials have recently found their way there, consorting with the women of an Adyssian land called Kendirah; It remains to be seen, what manner of abilities will manifest in their offspring, if any.

My world however... the celestials' world, is certainly unique in its own right. Here, all are born with magic in its purest form, coursing through their veins, owing to the object known as 'the Sphere'. None really know where or when it was created, but from the writings in our prime secta, it would seem that the Sphere has always been there, and that Zoltah was merely born around it.

Now, throughout the ages, the celestials as a race have steadily drifted apart, each kingdom ensuring that their knowledge and power remained only with them – at the time, a wise decision, but as we see now, a costly mistake. By choosing isolation over community, they unwittingly ensured that rifts appeared within their midst, slowly devolving into anger and hatred for each other. The titans who roamed around them, like vultures circling over their prey, saw this lack of unity as an opening – a means of attack. And spurred on by Cronus, their leader, these mountainous monstrosities would go on to unleash havoc upon their lands. Nearly every three decades, they descended upon the three kingdoms of Zoltah, namely, Asgard, Olympus and Heliopolis; stomping down their high walls and proceeding to devour nearly all who cowered within. Until finally, a titan named Atlas took pity upon them and used his sheer strength to uproot Asgard and Olympus from the ground, setting them high up in the sky – far away from the reach of the marauding titans below. There they have stayed all these centuries, held up by the power of the kind titan's will. Meanwhile, the celestials dwelling in Heliopolis, aptly refused to be uprooted to safety, instead choosing to stay on the ground. For in their minds, it is better to die while fighting for your home, than to live forever while cowering away.

From the beginning, I and eleven others have stood guard over Zoltah, watching over her from the heights of our towers. And yet, century after century, cycle after cycle, nothing as sinister as what I see transpiring has ever taken form before. A new order is coming, and I fear that I am alone. The others have all sided with evil – tempted by the allure of false promises, of power and of unhinged exploit. And yet, for truth I stand. For truth I will fight, and for truth, I am willing to lay down my life.

Even to this day, the stubborn kings of both Valhalla and Olympus refuse to end all conflict, and in the midst of all the bickering and plotting, a sinister foe rises, unseen by many, at all our collective peril.