"In the echoing silence between the stars, something stirs.
Shadows, long dormant, begin to creep once more. Old promises, forgotten and broken, whisper in the dark. The air shifts- subtle but undeniable- as if the earth itself is holding its breath.
There are no warnings, no omens to mark the beginning. Only the faint hum of something coming. It hides beneath the surface, masked by the familiar, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The wind grows colder, the light dims, and the ground seems to tremble with anticipation.
The dark, ancient forces- once bound, once tamed- pull at the edges of the Tapestry of Fate. Their presence is unseen, yet felt, heavy in the space between what was and what will be.
The balance falters. The Threads that hold everything together, that define the very timeline, begin to unravel.
It will start with a whisper- soft, fleeting, barely noticed. Then, a choice made in darkness, a single Thread pulled from the Loom. And everything that was once absolute will fall to shadow.
What was promised will be broken.
What was hidden will be revealed.
What was will cease to be.
A storm looms. The ground will shatter, the skies will weep, and the wind will howl with the Voices of the Forgotten. An end long foretold has begun to unfold, and nothing will remain untouched.
The ignorant go about their days, blissfully unaware. They do not see the shifting dark.
But in the silence- in the space between breath and blood, creation and destruction, salvation and ruin- they stir.
It watches. It waits.
The end has already begun."
-Unanswered correspondence written by King Orin, First of His Name, recovered from the ruins of Nythral, the Temple of Sythra, Goddess of Silent Fates.
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Masks of Fear and Shadow
Fantasía"Between the Jaws of Fate, a spark shall ignite, born of shadow and flame, a breath against the void. Its cry will shatter the silence, a sound the gods will fear, and its steps will weave the end of all that was known. When the rivers run black and...
