Firstborne

Prologue

The sun hung high in the cerulean sky, casting warm rays that kissed the Golden City's surfaces, making them blaze with an otherworldly brilliance. Streets paved with meticulously crafted gold reflected the light, creating a dazzling pathway underfoot. Majestic palaces rose toward the heavens, their walls embedded with gemstones that glinted in every conceivable hue.
In the heart of the city, ornate fountains spewed crystalline water that caught the sunlight, throwing off rainbows that filled the surroundings. Gardens brimmed with flora that seemed to glow from within; flowers with petals of topaz and leaves of emerald swayed gently in the breeze, casting a symphony of colors across the landscape. Elegant bridges arched over rivers of crystalline, connecting richly adorned districts. The air was filled with the soft murmur of contented chatter, the delicate notes of harps and lutes, merging with the distant sound of prayer from golden-spired temples.
Amidst the brilliance of the Golden City, an imposing figure hovered in the sky of its kingdom—a magnificent white dragon with wings that seemed to span the horizon. Its scales gleamed like freshly fallen snow. Hovering with ethereal grace, the dragon's eyes, deep pools of azure, shimmered like ancient sapphires.
As it surveyed its land, the sky rippled violently above the Golden City, an unnatural thunder reverberating as the fabric of reality tore apart. The air itself seemed to hum with impending doom. Gleaming golden spires stood tall, their majestic shimmer gradually dimming under the encroaching shadows.
In the center of this celestial metropolis, a swirling vortex of black and crimson pulsated erratically, its dark maw widening like the gaping mouth of a beast. Tendrils of darkness lashed out, hungering for destruction. Flashes of red lightning cracked within its depths, illuminating the sky in brief, hellish bursts that turned nightmarish.
Suddenly, countless dark shapes spewed forth from the vortex, descending upon the Golden City with terrifying speed like a storm of locusts. The first of the Shapeless appeared—hairless, ashen-grey humanoid figures with black, empty eyes devoid of emotion. Mounted on rebellious dragons, their wings spread wide, casting shadows over the gleaming streets. Their roars shattered the peace, echoing like foreboding drums of war.
"Defend the city!" a celestial sentinel shouted, raising his glowing cerulean sword, his voice trembling yet resolute. Ethereal inhabitants, beings of divine light clad in radiant armor, rushed to protect their sacred home. Their every movement left trails of luminescent afterimages, their weapons humming with celestial energy.
Blinding light collided with the dark tendrils and the dragons' fiery breath in bursts of brilliance, painting the sky with an eerie, twisted beauty. The clang of metal against leathery scales and the eerie hiss of energy bolts blended into a chaotic symphony of battle.
A dragon, its scales black and shimmering with an unholy glow, dove from the sky with a Shapeless rider. They lashed out at a celestial sentinel; the Shapeless' spear pierced golden armor, spilling radiant blood like molten gold across the sacred streets. Fragments of luminous stone rained down, each piece scattering light before crashing into the corrupted ground below.
As the vortex stabilized, more Shapeless army members, clad in dark, shifting armor and mounted on dragons, surged forward. The Golden City, a once-pristine realm of light, now lay under siege, its golden streets tarnished by the advancing chaos and despair.
Standing atop a jagged precipice of marble and gold, Azraelkor radiated an aura of unparalleled power and fury. His scales shimmered with a sickly iridescence, reflecting a spectrum of unsettling colors. His eyes blazed with the intensity of a thousand suns, searing through the darkness and illuminating the corrupted Golden City below.
"You have dared to invade my home," Azraelkor's voice boomed, reverberating through the air like a peal of thunder. "You have been led astray by your own hubris and fanatic devotion to my brother, Samaelen. For your rebellion and sins, you shall be remade." His words carried the weight of an irreversible fate, echoing ominously across the desolate landscape.
With a sweep of his clawed hand, the dragon god summoned an intense vortex of divine energy. The Shapeless screamed in terror as the energy enveloped them. Their bodies contorted violently, reshaping into new and unfamiliar forms.
Bones cracked, flesh bubbled and stretched painfully. Some elongated into lithe, pale forms with pointed ears and almond shaped eyes—elves. Others shrank, their bodies becoming rugged and stout with earthy tones and thick beards—dwarves. Still others grew hulking and green, tusks jutting from snarling mouths— orcs. The largest group became humans, diverse in shape and size.
Azraelkor's voice thundered, echoing across the desolate landscape. "Elves, live with the burden of an elongated life. Dwarves, your strength shall be tempered by your stature. Orcs, power marked by savagery. Humans, reflect the fleeting nature of your being. Your war against me shall be remembered for all time." His words hung in the air like an immutable curse, sealing their fates under the weight of his wrath.
Azraelkor ascended into the swirling tempest above, his powerful wings leaving a trail of scorching light. Below, the transformed Shapeless stared after him, their new forms heaving with the weight of their creation. Their eyes, wide with fear and bewilderment, followed his retreating figure, the gravity of their transformed existence settling heavily upon them.
Above the corrupted Golden City, Azraelkor hovered ominously, his wings casting a shadow over the tarnished streets below. His eyes blazed with judgment, searing through the darkened heavens. "You traitorous dragons shall face your punishment as well," he declared, his voice echoing like thunder, reverberating through the city's decaying grandeur.
With a thunderous roar, Azraelkor released tendrils of celestial light, their brilliance paralyzing the rebellious dragons mid-air. The luminous tendrils coiled around their wings, slicing through with surgical precision. As the dragons' once-majestic bodies twisted and elongated, they split into multiple serpentine heads, morphing grotesquely into hydras. Simultaneously, others were reshaped into wyverns, their powerful legs knotting grotesquely, while their forelimbs adopted menacing claws, scraping the earth with a chilling screech.
"I cast you back to the mortal realm," Azraelkor decreed, his voice thunderous. "Bound by sin, your power but a memory." With a final divine gesture, Azraelkor flung the hydras and wyverns toward the earth below. They plummeted, striking the sea and ground with an earth-shattering force.
"Master," one celestial sentinel uttered, removing his aureate helmet with a trembling hand. His steady voice wavered, thick with urgency. "I know my pleas may be heard on deaf ears after what has transpired here today in our home, but I ask mercifully if you would not give up on your creation."
Azraelkor raised an eyebrow, his radiant blue eyes narrowing slightly. "You seek favor on the Shapeless, is it, Elwynn?" he asked, his voice tinged with incredulity and authority. "Of what do I owe such a request? The Shapeless possessed free will. They chose their fate and must now live with the consequences of their actions."
Elwynn's grip on his helmet tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Master, I understand your disappointment," he said, his voice cracking. "The Shapeless have faltered, but they are not beyond redemption. I... I believe there is still hope. Your brother seeks to use his creation against you to hurt you, to doom them, and usurp your rightful throne."
"Hope?" Azraelkor echoed, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism in his tone. "You speak of hope when they have squandered the chance given to them. What makes you think they deserve another?"
"Because, Master, I believe in redemption. I sense the potential within them. I know they have the capacity for growth, for learning from their mistakes. If we abandon them now, they are lost forever. Samaelen wins. Please, listen to my plea."
Azraelkor's gaze softened, though he remained cautious. "Very well, Elwynn. Speak your mind."
Elwynn took a steadying breath, his wings trembling slightly. "I ask that you send me down to the mortal plane, to the earth. Let me guide these new races you've created. Let me teach them how to find redemption in their acts of rebellion. They are simple, yes, but they are capable of profound change."
"Are you so certain?" Azraelkor's voice carried both weariness and a hint of hope. "You believe they can prove themselves worthy?"
"Yes, Master," Elwynn replied, his voice firm with conviction. "I am willing to give everything to show that they can. This is a second chance for them, and not only for them, but for us as well in your Golden City, Master. Let me be their guide."
Azraelkor paused. "Fine," he said simply. "I will give you the chance you crave, Elwynn. You shall go to them and help them find favor and a relationship with me again."
Relief and determination washed over Elwynn, and he bowed deeply. "Thank you, Master," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "You won't be disappointed. I promise you that."
"You, Elwynn, have always sought to see the goodness in others. You are making a great sacrifice. Samaelen's schemes have failed as have his lesser creations. My child, I am proud of you. You bring me great honor."
Elwynn smiled. "Thank you, Master. All beings deserve a chance to prove their worth and possibilities to grow."
"Until you are called back to me, my child," Azraelkor began, his voice imbued with a fatherly warmth, "You will walk the earth as an elf. Do not reveal your mission to any of them. I give you the power of mana, and with it, you will teach the other races how to harness such power. Be wise and patient, Elwynn."
Elwynn nodded, gratitude and anticipation swirling within him. "Your will be done. I will honor this gift, Master. I will not fail."
As the brilliant light enveloped Elwynn, transforming him, he glanced back at Azraelkor, silently vowing to fulfill his mission.The echoes of war lingered, a testament to the eternal struggle between creation and corruption. The world, now marred by shadows, awaited the dawn of a new era—and the rise of unexpected heroes.