Idilia: The Dark Kingdom - Part 1

XL. A Crack in Creation

In the farthest, most desolate corner of Idilia, where the air was thin and the skies held only a hollow, dark stillness, the world stirred. The land, untouched by the wars and chaos of men, had remained silent for eons, forgotten by time itself. But here, hidden from the eyes of all living things, a rift was forming—a small, imperceptible crack in the very fabric of existence.

The veil that separated the realm of Realis, the world of Idilia, from Aevum—the forgotten, ancient realm of time—was weakening. For centuries, Aevum had been sealed away and a big sacrifice was made, a distant memory, its existence reduced to little more than myth and whispers among scholars. But now, something was changing.

The crack was just a slight distortion in the air, a shimmer that could have been mistaken for a trick of the light. But it grew. Slowly, persistently, as if the two realms were being drawn toward one another by forces long forgotten.

The air around the crack pulsed with an otherworldly energy. It was as though the very fabric of reality was protesting the breach, vibrating with a low, ominous hum that spread across the landscape. The light around it warped, bending unnaturally, casting long, jagged shadows across the barren ground.

Time itself seemed to slow. The stars, distant and cold, flickered in and out of existence. The skies dimmed as if a great weight was pressing down on the world. And from the crack, a faint glow began to emanate—subtle at first but growing brighter with each passing moment. The light was cold, lifeless, and unnatural, unlike anything that belonged to Realis.

Beyond the crack, in the depths of Aevum, something shifted. The ancient realm, once dormant and sealed, was stirring. Its presence was vast, timeless, and filled with the weight of forgotten histories. Aevum was waking, and with it came the secrets and horrors that had been locked away for countless ages.

In the distance, the skies began to darken due to the Non-creation. The stars flickered out, one by one, leaving only a void where once there had been light. The world of Idilia, once vibrant and full of life, was being swallowed by an encroaching shadow. And far away from its heart was the crack—now a gaping wound in the fabric of existence.

A low rumble echoed across the land, a deep, primal sound that seemed to resonate from the very core of the earth. The crack pulsed, and with it, the ground beneath it trembled. Solely the rift was widening, its edges fraying, as though the very world was being torn apart.

Something was coming, and with it, something far darker, far more ancient than the Non-creation.

The rift pulsed one last time, and then, with a final surge of energy, it collapsed inward, sealing itself shut in an instant. But the damage was done. The veil had been breached, and though the crack had closed, the fracture remained. The realms of Realis and Aevum were now closer than ever before, their boundaries blurred.

The world of Idilia would never be the same again. The first crack had appeared.

To Be Continued in Idilia: The Dark Kingdom, Part 2