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Chapter 1 - Prologue - A World in Ashes

Dragons capable of melting mountains, razing forests or dancing in the skies... This world is full of mysteries.

But believe me, it's not these creatures that terrify us most, it's our own existence.

Let me tell you my story ?

Not a fairytale that starts with 'once upon a time'. No, just my chronicles.

Chronicles of a world on the brink of collapse.

First of all, the place and the date. Zafrania, a vast, majestic... and battered continent.

A territory divided between four elemental clans, linked to the primordial forces that govern nature.

There's the Ice clan, based in Galavius, a city carved out of the bowels of an eternal glacier at the summit of Pic Hivrion. A kingdom of whiteness and silence, made up of frozen mountain ranges, endless crevasses and endless snowstorms.

The Wind clan live in Ventius, a city suspended in the celestial plains of Aeran. The air there is so pure and light that you can breathe in the heavens. The cliffs rise to the clouds, the winds are king and the plateaux stretch as far as the eye can see.

Then comes the Wood clan, tucked away in Bohivitius, a plant city built into the sacred branches of the Ancient Tree - a living, divine creature and the root of all plant life on the continent. Here, the dwellings are nestled in the giant trunks, suspended between the lianas and thousand-year-old foliage of a conscious forest.

And finally, the Fire clan, my clan.

Our city, Frenius, was built on the glowing slopes of Mount Arkarum, a sacred volcano. We live in the heart of the scorched earth, surrounded by lava flows, basalt peaks and a heat that only our people can withstand.

As with other clans, our people are accompanied by magical creatures. Dragons, elemental spirits, other creatures... Fabulous beings that even war has never been able to completely eradicate.

But here in Frenius, phoenixes only appear on our land. An exclusivity... perhaps.

Zafrania is a land of beauty, secrets... and ruins. And despite the magic, despite the ancient pacts, our future rests in our hands.

And hands... can build as well as destroy.

There was a time when peace existed, but it was fragile and ephemeral.

Until one day, a clan leader wanted more, much more.

He started a war to expand his territory, thirsting for power. The others, afraid of his growing power, launched counter-offensives, until each tribe invaded the other, without distinction, without restraint.

That was the start of the first major conflict, a hundred years ago.

Today... this fragile peace is a distant memory, and what is approaching is not war.

It is the continuation, the second era of destruction, and it will be fiercer, bloodier and more determined.

Because this time, our leaders want to wipe out every last breath of their enemies.

In my clan, preparations never stopped.

The army has been reinforced, the defences strengthened, every fighter is honing his senses, his weapons and his will.

Everyone senses it; the spark of conflict is ready to set the world ablaze.

And what about me?

At the time, I was still just a little boy, but I was about to be thrown into a minefield, not ready to die, but forced to fight an enemy far too powerful for me to know about.

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