Prologue
“A memory buried is still a memory preserved. A power chained is still a power waiting. And a god forgotten is still a god."
— Nyxarus, The Chains of the Gods
The void is vast and endless. There is nothing in the darkness here. There is no life. There is no power. There is no access to magic. Only endless nothing and shadows that swirl around in the darkness, waiting for their next victim. Faint footsteps can be heard, but nothing can be seen. A grunt echoes around the void. The sound of a man. The shadows hear him and move to attack him. The man swats at them, but he cannot stop them. Another set of footsteps. The echo of laughter. Chains clinking together. Then, a faint blue light glows. The light pulses through the enormous wall of chains as if it moves to the beat of an ancient heart.
The shadows finally let the man go and he sighs with relief. He walks toward the chains, grabbing hold of them. He attempts to break them, but he cannot. He places his hands against the wall and his fingers are ignited with blue flames. The man smiles and turns to the one behind him and smiles.
“The wall still holds, but we will break it down soon.”
Low in the depths of the mortal realm, below the soil in the forgotten caverns, five stone pillars glow. Ancient symbols carved into their faces. One under a great mountain, another below an ancient forest, the third beneath a forgotten temple, the fourth beneath a vast sea, and the final under a peaceful meadow. The ancient runes on their faces have different meanings, but they all glow with the same blue light that flows through the chains.
Around each pillar stands a group of men and women. Some in armor, others in robes. One by one, each of these guardians step forward. They lay their bloodied hands flat on the pillars. The blue light spreads through the world, connecting from one pillar to the next. The world trembles as the five become one. Far away in another realm, the man imprisoned by the chains pauses as he sees the entire wall ignite. The pulsing light is replaced by a wall of blue fire.
“It’s been completed,” the man growls.
Under a peaceful meadow, an elderly guardian touches the shoulders of the others with him. His hand is still on the pillar as he says, “stone will endure.”
“Until memory fails,” another guardian answers.
“Mortal memory may fade,” the elderly guardian responds. He presses both hands on the runes carved into the pillar.
“But magic remembers,” the other guardians answer in unison. The entire pillar is covered in flames. The guardians all step back. They each grab the hand of the elder and are instantly transported to the surface. They wayshifted to a meadow.
“Guard the seals,” the elder says, turning to the others. “Guard one another.” He pauses looking around the meadow. The flowers are in full bloom as far as the eye can see.
“Above all, let no blood be spilled on this ground in conflict.”
The wind ripples across the meadow. The grasses and flowers bend and roll like the waves of the sea. The sound is like the roar of the River Sol. Birds chirp in the distance. Blue pillars of light can be seen in every direction.
The man still watches the wall of flames that ignited over the flames. He listens as the realm rumbles and shakes. There’s a sigh, then a deep chuckle.
“Every prison has a key,” the man smiles at the flaming wall. “It only takes a few forgotten promises.”
