Chapter One: The Realms of Aestara
In the beginning, there was neither night nor day — only silence.
From that silence came two forces: Liora, the Light Eternal, and Umbra, the Shadow Unending. They were opposites, yet tinseparable. For ages, they danced in perfect balance — until desire and pride turned harmony into war.
Their clash tore open the heavens. Stars burned to ash, and the sky bled mana. To end the destruction, the higher beings sealed their power into a single world — a fragile sphere that would carry both their light and darkness forever.
That world was called Aestara.
If one were to look upon Aestara from the heavens, they would see a realm divided into three — each one breathing, moving, and watching the other in uneasy silence.
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The Celestial Realm
High above the mortal clouds shone the Celestial Realm, home of the angels and beings of radiant light.
Golden towers pierced the skies, and rivers of luminescent energy flowed between them like molten dawn. It was said that every sunrise born upon Aestara began here — a whisper of divine will carried through the wind.
But even in heaven, the songs of balance had grown quieter. The light had begun to flicker.
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The Mortal Realm
Below lay the Mortal Realm, the heart of Aestara and the cradle of countless lives.
Its lands were vast, divided into five great continents — each a world of its own.
To the west stretched Drakospilia, where mountains breathed fire and dragons ruled as king of flame and storm. Their blood carried fragments of the world's first creation. No mortal entered their land without invitation — and few who did ever returned the same.
At the center of the world thrived Aurentha, the continent of humankind and many other races. It was said to be the meeting ground of fate — where the strands of every destiny wove together.
Aurentha was divided into four great kingdoms
Eclyria, realm of light and honor, ruled by the noble Casteal Family.
Lumbrea, land of dusk and shadow, ruled by the Shadow Family, who preserved forbidden knowledge.
Vyrnal, realm of forests and silver moonlight, where the Silverleaf Family ruled in ancient friendship with the elves.
Lumetha, kingdom of balance and wisdom, ruled by the Lotus Family, whose scholars and seers were said to hear the whispers of destiny itself.
At the center of Aurentha stood a city-state beyond the reach of any crown — Astralis Academy , where the gifted of every race gathered to study, compete, and awaken their hidden potential.
Far to the east of Aurentha, veiled in silver mist, was Lothlórien, the sanctuary of the elves — a land untouched by time, where moonlight never faded.
To the north lay Svartalfheim, the realm of dwarves and beastkin, where molten forges never slept.
And to the far south stood Sonitpur, the land of the Dark Race — vampires and witches who thrived beneath a crimson moon.
Each continent lived under its own laws, yet all were bound by one fragile truth: the balance between light and darkness held the world together.
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The Netherworld Realm
Beneath all things, hidden beneath oceans and stone, lay the Netherworld Realm — the shadow's heart.
Here, the remnants of Umbra's power took shape in demons and creatures born of the void. It was a place of shifting gravity and living shadows, a world where time and form meant nothing. Though sealed away after the ancient war, the Netherworld's whispers still reached mortal dreams.
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Lymi — The City of the Dawning Rivers
Far to the east of Lumetha, where the twin rivers of Lymi curved like silver threads across the plains, the city basked in the orange glow of dusk. Bells rang softly from the spires, and the air smelled faintly of rain.
In a small house by the river, a boy sat by the window, staring at the fading light.
Kael. Sixteen years old. Quiet, distant, and full of questions he had stopped asking long ago.
The sunlight caught the edge of his hair, turning it pale gold for a moment before it disappeared into shadow. His gray eyes reflected both colors — not quite light, not quite dark.
On the desk before him lay a worn textbook and an old pendant — a strange half-sun, half-moon crest. It was the only thing his parents had left behind before they vanished when he was seven.
Tomorrow was the Awakening Examination the day every student of Lymi's Central Academy would attempt to awaken their Mana Core.
The core was the heart's mirror — the crystal of power that decided one's future. Some awakened cores of light, others of darkness or elemental flame, frost, and wind.
And some never awakened at all.
Kael feared he would be one of those few.
He had never felt mana stir within him — no warmth in his chest, no flicker in his soul. Just a quiet emptiness.
His aunt, Mira, called from downstairs, her voice soft and kind. "Kael, you should rest. Big day tomorrow."
"Yeah," he answered, though his gaze never left the pendant.
As his fingers brushed its surface, a faint warmth pulsed beneath his skin — slow, steady, like a heartbeat buried deep within the earth.
Then, faintly, two voices echoed in his mind.
"He's close…" whispered one — cold and sharp as a blade.
"He does not yet remember," murmured the other — warm, tender, full of sorrow.
Kael froze. The world seemed to stop.
And then it was gone. The warmth, the voices — everything.
Only the sound of the river and the soft hum of the night remained.
He shook his head and laughed quietly. "Just nerves," he muttered, lying back on his bed.
Outside, the twin moons of Aestara — one silver, one red — crossed paths in the sky, casting a strange glow over the sleeping city.
Kael closed his eyes, unaware that in the depths of his heart, two ancient forces — one of light, one of shadow — stirred for the first time in nine years.
And the balance of Aestara trembled once more.