Prologue
Nobody truly knows where Abiraith sits in our universe. Astronomers point at star maps and argue, but the truth is simpler. It's tucked away in a quiet stretch of space in our universe that only a handful of space-fairing civilizations know about.
This world has been turning there for ages under the watchful, yet loving gaze of a divine entity, God Almighty's own wife. It's been shaped by spellcraft, steel, and the will of the races and monsters alike. Even the goddess herself has made small changes throughout the ages.
Just like the universe, it's bursting at the seems with mana and life. Countless valleys of agricultural products sway in the gentle winds. Old stone ruins faintly hum with slowly decaying enchantments. Adventurers of all kinds trample along the dirt roads with dust in their hair.
It's not a gentle world by any means, nor is it dagerous and deadly like earth. It's seasons are gentle with storms that are mild and enjoyable. The temperature itself doesn't fluctuate like that of earth's. That is unless you are near a volcano.
This world feels ancient like an elder, yet alive and full of energy like a child. This gives the world the feeling of sentience, as if it were a person. It almost feels deliberate, though it's only a humble rock circling its star.
Dragons roost in mountain ranges with the biggest roost in the north-western part of the continent. Though they are usually silent and watchful, some ne er leave as they cling to tradition, memory, and whatever purpose they believe they still have.
Some leave the roost to explore the world below. They learn mortal customs, make questionable choices, loose their lives, vanish into thin air, or fall in love with a mortal. They are poweful beings, though they aren't immune to curiosity or loneliness.
Humans share Abiraith with many races, though the feline and canine beastkin folk are the most common. Some look like bipedal animals while others could pass for human, if not for a tail and a pair of twitching ears.
Sirens live by the coasts. Their ancestors dragged sailors to watery graves. The sirens of today hunt for a different reason entirely. Their songs are used to hunt for a lifelong mate, only drawing in someone who finds harmony with them.
Magic is a constant here; as ordinary as most tools, yet as dangerous as fire. Children practice the elements they have an affinity to, using it to build things or play harmless pranks on adults or each other. warriors call upon magic for offense or defense when a blade or armor isn't enough.
Each being, whether human-like or monster, is born attuned to one or two elements, never more. Nobody truly understands why, though most couldn't care either way.
Six elements exist here: fire, water, earth, air, light, and dark. Some spells do not belong to any of them, making scholars both curious and uneasy. They call them the no element spells, allowing anyone to use them as long as they learned it.
Forests, mountains, valleys, and plains hid worse things than bandits. Goblins, ogres, and monsters of all shapes and sizes call these places home. Some have found themselves as family or adventuring pets while the unlucky ones are twisted into massive beasts from mana-heavy pools. These beast are exceptionally rare, but their existence keeps villages, soldiers, and adventurers cautious and alert.
For a long time, life went on like this. At times it was tense or even dark, though these times were sunshine and rainbows compared to earth. Even now, the times were rough and life seemed to loose it's luster.
So, the Kingdom of Romania reached for something ancient. A powerfull spell like no other that could reach across the cosmos and bring back a hero from outside the world itself. Someone not born under Abiraith's own wild blue yonder.
Numerous mages stood in a large room expending most of their mana as ther virtual circle flared to life. The earth faintly trembled beneath them. Dragons lifted their heads and the oceans stilled. The air itself held its charge as if it were waiting for what came next.
