𓊈 CODEX ENTRY: VALLEN HEIR — THE PALE KING OF BLACK HOLLOW 𓊉
> "Where shadows flow like blood, and silence screams louder than the cry of war — there, my name endures."
— Inscription upon the Ruined Obsidian Gate, Black Hollow
⚔ ORIGIN — The Last Heir of Umbra
Name: Vallen Heir
Birth: Noxverra, 7th of Ignifera, 781 KHL
Realm: Black Hollow, Northern Mystinia Arterra
In the forgotten ages, Black Hollow stood as the sanctum of the Arcana Umbra, a civilization devoted to the worship of living shadows. Their scholars danced between light and void, binding spirits into flesh, forging miracles of darkness.
But devotion breeds downfall.
When the veil of the world tore, their sanctum crumbled — leaving behind only ruins, specters, and a curse that seeps through time itself.
From the ashes of that accursed valley rose Vallen Heir, last scion of House Heir — a lineage once sworn to guard the secrets of Umbra. Yet the blood within him had long been tainted by the pact of his ancestors: a binding with a Primordial Shade, transforming him into a being neither living nor dead.
Those who glimpsed his form spoke of a pale figure whose eyes glimmered like dying embers — a soul half-consumed, half-awakened.
🌑 LIFE IN SHADOW — The Discipline of Darkness
Vallen's childhood was carved in silence and shadow.
Under the tutelage of the Shadowbinders, he was taught to master the art of Umbramancy — to weave shadow as one weaves breath, to command the dark as though it were memory itself.
Yet he went beyond his masters.
Through communion with the spirits bound to his soul, he learned to summon Eclipsed Phantoms — echoing shades of forgotten warriors, tethered to him by the hunger of the void.
But mastery came at a price.
The shadows whispered in tongues he could not silence; they fed upon his fears, his regrets, his humanity. And in the stillness of every night, Vallen understood — Umbra was not a blessing.
It was a debt. A covenant carved into blood and bone, paid in fragments of his own soul.
👑 ASCENSION — The Birth of the Pale King
When Vallen reached his sixteenth year, the Legion of Nocturnix descended upon Black Hollow, seeking to plunder the relics of the fallen Arcana.
The valley fell into chaos, smothered by war and mist.
For three nights, screams were swallowed by the fog. The invaders vanished, one by one, devoured by illusions and shadows that bore no master — or so they thought.
At dawn, the battlefield was silent.
Only the wind moved, whispering through armor and bone.
In the heart of that silence, the ancient spirits of Black Hollow arose.
They bowed before Vallen, not out of fear — but allegiance.
A crown of living mist formed upon his head, woven from the souls of the fallen.
Thus was born The Pale King — the sovereign of ruin, the ruler of shadows.
Not crowned by men,
but by the dead.
🕯 PILGRIMAGE — The Wanderer of Umbra
Now at nineteen, the Pale King walks among the realms of Mystinia Arterra, cloaked in dusk and silence.
He conceals his heritage beneath a mantle of solitude, living as an Arcanist-for-hire, selling fragments of his cursed art for coin — or sometimes, for truth.
To most, he is but a whisper in taverns, a phantom on the battlefield, a rumor that chills the spine.
But behind his quiet gaze lies an unbroken purpose:
To unravel the curse of Black Hollow.
To reclaim the scattered fragments of the Umbra Codex.
To restore balance to a world that feared what it could not understand.
And, should fate demand it —
to make the world remember the name it buried in shadow.
> "He walks not to conquer, but to atone. Yet every step he takes drags the light one inch closer to its own demise."
— Excerpt from the Chronicles of the Pale Eclipse
Excellent — here is the second codex entry, written as if transcribed from a forbidden archive or ancient scholar's journal, continuing the same tone and worldbuilding depth:
𓊈 CODEX FRAGMENT II — RELICS AND ABILITIES OF THE PALE KING 𓊉
> "The deeper one peers into his power, the less certain one becomes that he was ever truly mortal."
— Archivist Seraphel, Exiled Custodian of the Black Vault
⚜ I. The Umbra Dominion
"Where light falters, his reign begins."
The Umbra Dominion is not a spell, but a state of existence — a veil between worlds that bends reality around Vallen's will. Within this dominion, the laws of life and death grow thin; echoes walk among the living, and shadows act with sentience.
When invoked, a faint black mist seeps from the ground, thickening until it devours color and sound alike.
Those who enter it speak of time slowing, their hearts echoing too loudly, their memories slipping away.
It is said that within this dominion, Vallen perceives the truth of all things — not through sight, but through the weight of their shadow.
🕯 II. Eclipsed Phantoms
"He does not summon them — they answer."
Bound to Vallen's essence are countless Eclipsed Phantoms, spectral shades born from souls that perished in the Hollow's endless night.
They are neither loyal servants nor mindless spirits, but remnants of consciousness tethered to the Pale King's being.
Each Phantom bears the echo of a life once lived: soldiers, mages, and lost wanderers — their sorrow molded into forms of vengeance.
When Vallen calls upon them, they emerge from his own shadow, fighting not for glory, but to fulfill the fragment of purpose that bound them to existence.
To witness the summoning of an Eclipsed Phantom is to gaze upon despair given form — a reflection of one's own death staring back.
🕸 III. The Crown of Mist
"A king's crown should glimmer in the sun. His devours the sun itself."
The Crown of Mist is no relic of metal or jewel, but a phenomenon of spirit — an eternal wreathe of spectral vapor that circles Vallen's head like a halo of mourning.
Forged from the loyalty of a thousand fallen souls, the Crown grants Vallen authority over the restless dead. Within its presence, weaker spirits bow, unable to resist its silent command.
It is both a blessing and a curse:
To wear it is to bear the memories, emotions, and agonies of every shade bound within.
At times, when he lowers his guard, one might glimpse ghostly silhouettes swirling behind him — whispering fragments of forgotten tongues.
⚔ IV. Noctis Requiem
"Three nights. Three thousand deaths. One King reborn."
The Noctis Requiem is considered Vallen's greatest and most dreaded invocation — the very act that birthed the Pale King during the Siege of Black Hollow.
It calls forth the Eternal Eclipse, blotting out all light in a vast radius, turning the battlefield into a realm of perpetual twilight.
In that darkness, the souls of the dead are drawn to him — enemies and allies alike — rising as phantoms beneath his command.
The ritual consumes immense life force, and even Vallen himself risks being devoured by the tide of spirits he commands.
Some scholars argue that this technique is not magic, but atonement — the moment when Vallen's humanity was sacrificed to preserve his home.
🩸 V. The Wraithblood Veins
"He bleeds not crimson, but shadow."
Vallen's body no longer obeys mortal laws.
His veins flow with Wraithblood — a spectral ichor infused with traces of Umbra essence. It grants him unnatural vitality and the ability to reconstruct his form from fragmented shadow, making true death almost impossible unless his core spirit is shattered.
When wounded, his blood does not drip — it evaporates into dark mist, rejoining his shadow.
Yet each regeneration erodes his humanity further.
The more he endures, the less of him remains that can be called alive.
🕯 VI. Legacy of Black Hollow
"He walks alone, yet never truly alone."
Even far from his cursed homeland, Black Hollow follows him — in memory, in mist, in the ever-present whisper of the dead.
Vallen bears the Sigil of Hollow Sovereignty upon his chest, a faintly glowing mark that pulses when he draws upon Umbra's deeper currents.
It serves as both a beacon and a warning — a reminder that his destiny is not his own, but tied to every soul the Hollow ever consumed.
The scholars of Arterra debate endlessly whether the Pale King remains a savior… or the seed of the next calamity.
> "To command shadow is to embrace oblivion. To wear the crown is to invite eternity.
He has done both — and so the world will remember him, long after light itself has faded."
— Fragmented Testimony, "The Mourning Chronicle"