"Years are unknown. Where are we?" they asked, voices trembling with fear. "What are these creatures? These deviants… and why are they attacking us?"
"Today is the day!" the general shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
So, what's really going on?
This is Nepheliem, a vast continent ruled for centuries by a single, powerful family: the Fulcrums. An esteemed legacy of dark mages, the Fulcrums have maintained their grip on Nepheliem through arcane might and ruthless ambition. The current king, Joseph, is a master of dark magic, as are his wife Maria and their children.
But with great power comes great responsibility and great enemies.
For generations, the Fulcrums have waged a bitter war against the Ironvale, a noble dynasty that rules over Sylvaris, another sprawling continent. Unlike the Fulcrums, the Ironvale bloodline is marked by discipline, order, and civilization, embodying a legacy of kings and queens who govern with wisdom and restraint.
Two legacies. Two continents. One war that will decide the fate of their world.
Between the lands of Nepheliem stood the formidable Kingsley family, a ruthless noble house of dark mages. Their current head, Richard Kingsley, was a war-hardened leader who had faced countless battles against demons and the Ironvales alike. But this time, the entire nation was plunged into a devastating war.
Richard steeled his clan and family for the coming storm.
He had three sons: Paul, Jacob, and Trevor. Paul, at fifteen, was a prodigy—mastering necromancy and the dark art of fear manipulation with terrifying ease. Jacob, ten years old, had yet to unlock his latent powers, his potential still a mystery. And little Trevor, just three, was an innocent soul burdened by trauma no child should bear.
With the war looming, Richard called his family and clan together, preparing to face the Ironvales and defend Sylvaris. The preparations went smoothly, but the tension was palpable—only two days remained before the Great War would erupt.
But that fateful night,
Trevor awoke to the shrill ringing of the bell. A sense of dread settled over him as a massive fireball tore through the sky, hurtling toward their town with terrifying speed. The Kingsley clan braced themselves, but it was all in vain. The war had arrived at their doorstep.
Assassins struck from the shadows, mages unleashed devastating spells, and warriors leapt into the fray. Who were these relentless attackers? They were the Eldoria clan, longtime rivals of the Kingsleys, their bitter feud stretching back generations. But today would decide the fate of one—and the end of the other.
Richard jolted awake in a panic, rallying to defend his people. Word came that King Joseph was sending reinforcements, but could he truly be trusted?
With unparalleled speed, Richard plunged into battle, weaving through the chaos. Then, through the smoke and bloodshed, his eyes locked onto a familiar figure, Adrian. The coward who had once attacked his town with merciless cruelty.
Their clash was fierce and legendary, a deadly dance of power and vengeance. In the end, neither emerged victorious: Richard fell by Adrian's hand, and Adrian by Richard's. The battle was as equal as the deaths they dealt.
The battle raged on in the town of Refela, once a place of beauty and peace, now reduced to fire, rubble, and screams. But fate had darker plans.
As steel clashed and spells tore through the sky, an unexpected horror emerged: a horde of demonic creatures, grotesque and unrelenting. They descended upon both sides, slaughtering humans without mercy. Friend and foe alike fell to their wrath.
When the chaos subsided, the Eldoria clan stood bloodied but victorious. Yet victory came at a heavy price.
Two legends, Adrian and Richard Kingsley, perished in battle, their deaths marking the end of an era. But their fall was only the beginning of a greater nightmare for the Kingsley bloodline.
In the midst of the chaos, Paul was dragged through a rift into a nightmarish dimension known as Nueram, a realm of torment ruled by demons. For him, it was a prison of fire and shadows, a place where hope was devoured.
Jacob, on the other hand, was pulled into something even worse: the Void, the eerie birthplace of the demons themselves. It was a realm coated in pale ash, its skies a blank nothingness, and its silence more terrifying than any scream. What he saw there twisted the mind and scarred the soul.
And as for Trevor, the youngest, pure and innocent, he was captured by the Eldoria clan and taken as a slave. A child thrown into chains, his future swallowed by war.
The Kingsley legacy had been shattered. Their fates scattered across realms of darkness.
14 years go by
The world remembered the great battle as a dark era in history, and often the Kingsley clan was ignored and not mentioned. The world saw the Kingsleys as nothing more than dark mages that only came to wreak havoc on the World