In the far land of Asxairo, off the distant ruins of the Rovien Sea lives a damnation to the kingdoms. She is something beyond the great bounds of the ancestors and the Gods. She is an unstoppable force and she has a mission to complete.
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"Curses! I am going to murder someone!" Rheynoak Casvionel's voice rang throughout his office, his knuckles pounding on the polished wood of his desk.
Papers and books littered the surface of his office floors, the red carpet almost disappearing underneath the sea of important documents that suffocated it from beneath.
Days has gone by since the book Lucien had left for him when he was sick has disappeared and the constricting thought of what would happen if anyone found the book nearly choked him.
Lucien had originally left the book for him to stay alerted on any new information but what others didn't know was that that specific book kept him connected with many powerful tribes.
There were many tribes scattered across Asxairo, some more powerful than others. The leaders were Siphon, Summoners, even witches and they were in charge of keeping each other in check.
That book was given to every tribe to keep a special connection between them yet the tribe leader himself knew that the book hid more ancient secrets that anyone ever knew.
And if it ever landed in the wrong person's hand...
Rheynoak shivered at the not so pleasant thought. The other tribe leaders would kill him for sure.
Pushing his fingers through his hair, he pulled at the back strands of his hair, sweat beading down the bridge of his nose. His knuckles slammed down on the desk once more, the crack of his bones crunching underneath his skin.
Outside, he could hear the chatter of his followers with his ears, perking up on little hints of conversations in languages he couldn't understand, the rare sound of laughter breaking through the usual painful early noon atmosphere.
The desert has been quite for some time now, a scary thought that lingered in everyone's minds as members of Rheynoak's tribes scurried about their day.
The sun was beaming down today, the tribe leader's eyes looking over to the window that was exposed by the drawn back curtains. He didn't need to walk close to the window to see the bruises that embraced the skin of his followers after their vigorous training through his heightened eyesight.
Blood and sweat dripped from their skins like raindrops falling from crying skies above. The sweet smell of running blood and musky skin met his senses, the sound of bones cracking underneath skin ringing in the desert atmosphere.
They should have been training right now, working their bones off until the flesh on their bodies peeled off, a normal day for those that were dedicated members of Rheynoak's tribe.
But Rheynoak himself hasn't been thinking about his own tribe, wild hazel eyes scouring the top of his desks as he searched for the one thing he longed to have.
His mind was scattered, so consumed by the frightening thought of what might happen if it landed in the wrong hands that he didn't notice the sound of someone knocking on the doors of his office until the door creaked open.
