Sallitia: Age of War

3

Time passed in Sallitia, its meadows lush and rivers clear, as humans and magical creatures learned to coexist. Villages prospered, and alliances were formed. Yet, tension slowly crept in like a shadow on a sunny day. What began as minor disputes over resources and land grew into louder demands, and suspicions arose on both sides. Humans began to question why the magical creatures still held leadership over the land they now shared, while the magical creatures were wary, fearing that the humans’ ambitions might upset the delicate balance of Sallitia. Soon, voices on both sides clamored for control, and the threat of war loomed heavy in the air.

One brisk morning, banners snapped in the wind as two armies gathered on the plains of Sallitia. The blue banners of Rohan, bearing the emblem of a proud white horse, stood in stark contrast to the green banners of the elven forces, which bore a white tree symbolizing their ancient connection to the land. The armies faced each other across the field, with warriors holding their breath as their kings, Eburon and Caspian, stood at the forefront, striving to find a resolution.

Caspian’s eyes were steely, his jaw set as he faced Eburon. "I and my people demand that you hand over the rule of Sallitia to us." he declared, his voice steady and resolute. “We have earned our right to lead this land as much as you.”

Eburon met his gaze, his expression unwavering. “That will never happen. My people have bled for this land. We fought to free Sallitia from the dark reign of Egeldor and protected it when none other would. We accepted you as kin, as neighbors, but we will not yield our sovereignty.”

“So you are willing to take this to war?” Caspian’s voice hardened, his hands clenched into fists.

“If you give us no choice, then yes.” Eburon replied firmly, his eyes narrowing. “We will defend our home.”

Caspian clenched his jaw, lifting his sword. “Then we’re at war!”

A murmur of tension rippled through both armies. As the kings turned to lead their forces away, a dark figure observed the proceedings from a high tree. It was a raven, its black feathers blending into the shadows as it tilted its head, taking in every word. With a low, ominous croak, it took flight, gliding across the plains toward the east.

The raven flew over the forest and lakes until it reached the towering stone spires of the White Tower, perched high in the mountains at the edge of Sallitia. It landed on the shoulder of a young wizard dressed in black robes, with dark hair that matched his piercing gaze. This was Asherah, the youngest and most mysterious member of the White Council, a gathering of the most powerful magic-wielders in Sallitia.

Asherah listened as his raven, Dallahal, croaked the tale of impending war, his dark smile widening. "Good, Dallahal." he murmured, stroking the raven's feathers. He turned to a large, ornate mirror in the corner of his chamber. With a whisper, he touched its surface, and the reflective glass shimmered to reveal a shadowy figure, cloaked and hooded, his face obscured by darkness. The figure was Egeldor, the very sorcerer whom the elves had defeated and banished ages ago.

Asherah knelt, bowing his head. "Lord Egeldor, all is going according to plan. The human and elven kings have declared war upon one another. My orcs await your command, ready to strike when the time is right.”

A low, dark chuckle echoed from the figure in the mirror. “Excellent.” Egeldor replied, his voice a malevolent whisper. “Keep casting spells on the humans and magical creatures. Sow confusion, twist their minds. The elven king will be so entangled in his war against the humans that he won’t even sense my return.”

With that, Egeldor’s image faded, leaving the mirror’s surface dark. Asherah rose, his dark smile unwavering. He could feel the pulse of the land, the magic of Sallitia bending to his will as he prepared to unleash chaos.

Meanwhile, unaware of Asherah’s dark scheming, the White Council had gathered in their grand hall. The council members included not only Valter, the wise old wizard, but Onodius, a mysterious sorcerer who traveled far and wide; Avalon, a stoic wizard from the northern mountains; Amadrya, a young witch with fiery red hair and a fierce loyalty to nature; and Paladin the Many-Colored, the leader of the Council, who wore a shimmering cloak that shifted through all colors, symbolizing his role as a protector of balance.

Amadrya sat close to the council table, her wolf companion Fang resting beside her, his sharp eyes watchful. The wolf let out a low growl as Paladin the Many-Colored began to speak, his tone grave.

"I have called you all here,” Paladin said, “because the balance of Sallitia is in danger. War is on the horizon between humans and magical creatures. We must find a way to prevent this bloodshed."

Avalon, his voice calm but deeply concerned, added, "This conflict is unnatural. King Caspian and queen Alexandra came here seeking refuge, not conquest. They hoped to live peacefully alongside the magical beings of Sallitia."

“Dark magic stirs.” Amadrya said, her voice full of unease as she ran her fingers through Fang’s fur, soothing her companion. “The land is suffering, the plants and animals have become restless. This magic is powerful enough to twist the minds and hearts of even the purest souls. Sallitia has not seen darkness like this since Egeldor fell.”

Valter nodded, his expression somber. “We must prepare for the worst. If Egeldor has returned, his influence will only grow, feeding on the hatred and division among the people. Our only hope is that Eburon and Caspian realize the true source of their grievances before it’s too late.”