Although what happened in the Church of Lux Dolaris was not reflected to the outside world, its impact had been immense. This event was the beginning of a new age. One hundred and fifty years had passed since that day. And on that day, the world had changed irrevocably.
The age of the Elders had ended. Following the reign of the Ket Curse over the Elders, a new order was born in the silence of the Gods. And the name of that order: The Valerium Empire — humanity's largest and most powerful empire.
Valerith rebuilt the world after that day when the curse reigned over the Elders. She united the scattered kingdoms of humanity; she transformed the destruction wrought by war into an "empire of peace." She was known as the "Mother of Light" — Valerith I. Lux Domina.
However, this peace was one sealed with blood. Every populace living under Valerith's rule bore the scars of the endless wars of the past. And no one spoke of the heroes of the old world anymore — the Elders... They could not speak of them.
The reason for their sudden disappearance was clear in the eyes of the people: Supposedly, the Elders had attempted to betray humanity; thus, they were killed by Valerith and the Varis. Most people believed this. Those who did not believe were branded as followers of the Elders — they were either slaughtered or condemned to a life of pain and suffering.
Those who followed the path of the Elders, those who still believed in them, were seen as "traitors"; they were outcast even from the common folk. Humanity was cruel and naive — they believed the lies and turned their backs on the Elders they once called heroes, their only hope, and their legacy. The Elders were no longer heroes, but were referred to in history books as "dangerous heretics"; their very names were considered a curse.
Still, some had survived that day. But no one knew who they were or where they were. Some had quietly withdrawn due to the great responsibilities they bore, some had set out for revenge, and some had lost their power and sealed their own bodies.
Time had turned them into legends.
With the rise of Valerium, the world was divided into seven parts. Each established its own empire, flying its own flag:
Humans: The Valerium Empire — center of the holy order. Angels: The Aetherion Kingdom — rulers of the sky cities, messengers of the Gods. Beasts: The Gorrath Dominion — kings of the wild. Demons: The Nerathum Empire — lords of the subterranean flames. Vampires: The Noctyra Dynasty — the lineage that rules the night. Dwarves: The Duragorn Iron-Union — the empire born in the heart of the mountains. Elves: The Sylvaris Council — the ancient protectors of the forests.
Each race built its own lands after the long wars. The world of Valyria was no longer a place belonging only to humans; it was a world where all races united, lived, and fought — Valyria.
For centuries, alliances were forged, wars broke out, and treaties were broken. But nothing could harm the shadow of Valerith and the Varis. Because their will still guided the world.
Chosen warriors and mages from every race gathered to fight the legacy of the Elders. This formation was named "Luxaris" — meaning the Light of the Holy Order. Officially, they served Valerith; unofficially, they were tasked with eradicating the entire Elder faith. The Luxaris hunted anyone who sided with the Elders, believed in them, or secretly prayed to them. They were the empire's most ruthless and fanatical guardians.
A dark courtyard. The yellow light of the night lamps showed the bloodstains on the walls with a cold gleam. The white cloaks of the Luxaris guards were adorned with golden runes stitched according to their rank; they advanced silently, like a funeral procession. They had just cleansed a village of secret Elder believers — house doors were broken, prayers left unfinished, and the smoke from fires still hung in the air.
A handful of surviving humans were thrown to the ground amidst the cloaked guards; their eyes wide with terror, their lips trembling. A pair of young hands rose into the air:
"Forgive us… we won't believe anymore…" they pleaded. But the soldiers of the Luxaris knew no mercy. With cold, procedural certainty, they finished their work; they were erasing their names, along with their faith, from the world.
When the work was done, a high-ranking agent stepped forward from the shadows — not young, but not old either; his face bore the marks of both fatigue and victory. He pulled a sealed map from within his cloak; small red dots marked on the east of Valerium glowed.
"Lord Rrnaun," he said, kneeling respectfully. His voice was harsh: "Two suspects have been identified in the east. According to intelligence, they are reported to be individuals with past ties to the Elders. They are both staying in the same place. They have two daughters and two sons; the eldest son is in the capital to participate in the Luxaris Order's selections. We await your instructions."
As his words finished, a tall, slender silhouette rose from the shadow of the courtyard. He was human, but he seemed like a being far removed from humanity. His name was Rrnaun — the head of the Luxaris, one of the closest and most lethal influences to Valerith.
Those who saw Rrnaun's appearance for the first time were always mistaken: His face was thin, bony; his skin pale, like a candle that hadn't seen the sun in a long time. What was most striking were his eyes — rather than normal human eyes, they were like two embers burning within a coal-like darkness. His gaze was piercing, giving the feeling that he was stripping the soul of the person opposite him to see what remained. There was a thin scar at the corner of his mouth; when he spoke, his lips barely moved, but his voice was cold and commanding enough to shake the walls of the room.
Rrnaun didn't even look at the map the agent brought. His eyes were fixed on the agent's face; as if wanting to pull out any secrets he was hiding. Then, he cast out a thought emerging from within him like a curt command:
"The east, eh..." he said. "Every stain that needs to be cleansed for Valerith's light belongs to us. "These two… do they have the potential for danger?"
The agent trembled slightly — Rrnaun's presence always affected people this way — but he answered nonetheless: "Yes, Master. Their past connections, the way they hide, and witness statements indicate they have a direct relationship with the Elders. We believe they personally served the Elders in the past. They are not normal people; despite one hundred and fifty years passing, their appearance is still human-like. They are being protected by local supporters."
Rrnaun's lips curled; it was like an inhuman imitation of a smile, but held no mercy. "Good," he said. "Hand over all information you have about them. Perhaps they know something about the missing Elders. Every interrogation will be conducted under Valerith's command."
A silence fell over the courtyard; even the wind seemed to pause at that moment. Rrnaun's eyes were locked on a single point, and everyone knew his decision was unchangeable.
"We are going to the east," Rrnaun said finally, his voice as clear as a sword strike. "The eastern borders of the Valerium Empire. It seems there are those there who carry traces of the past. We will find them. We will cleanse them. We will eliminate all heretics for our one master — the Mother of Light, Valerith."
Following the command, the Luxaris soldiers moved. The metallic ringing of their armor was heard as a rhythmic echo on the stone floor of the courtyard. The unit formed; dark cloaks shimmered in the candlelight. They all had the same determination in their eyes: order, obedience; duty, destruction.
No one knew the news that Auren had grown up in a village in the east of Valerium. Perhaps the new maneuvers Auren's older brother displayed on the training ground today would be the spark for a search far away. But in the silence of this night, the shadow of the Luxaris was stretching toward the east — and for any heart fortunate enough to catch a trace, a whisper, or an old prayer as it stretched, this meant only death.