Prologue — The Veil of the Unseen
But Noor is unaware of what is about to burn. Before the kingdom of Noor rose to glory with its golden and marble spires reaching into the sky and songs of tranquility sung amidst jewel-studded firmaments, all there was was fire.
There was talk that out of the primordial flames was born Layla, an ageless creature not of flesh and blood nor of divinity, but an enigma formed in the mystic arts themselves. This creature was imbued with powers unmatched by anything on earth. She was capable of shaping time itself at will and controlling the forces of nature through mere whispers.
Indeed, for many years, it was not by means of tyranny that Layla governed, but by wisdom. Thanks to her, Noor blossomed into an extraordinary place. The rivers gleamed even more brightly; harvests turned out to be richer, and the entire kingdom shone like a jewel in the darkness.
However, every magic spell casts its shadow.
Layla had received a revelation.
An apocalyptic vision that lay ahead.
Noor, crushed by treachery; its throne taken over by greed; its people dispersed into oblivion. Darkness emerging from her own family line; the desire for power that would inevitably destroy all that she had ever worked for.
Moreover, she had seen them.
Two individuals hiding beneath veils.
One, nurtured under luxury and prophecy.
The other, forged under suffering and destruction.
Strangers to each other, and yet connected by a bond more ancient than any realm.
One of them would be bestowed with the Sight – a curse to see what had yet to take place.
The other would be endowed with the Flame – an ability that slumbered in their very veins.
And alongside them walked the Marked Guide, whose path would dictate whether destiny would lead to redemption or ruin.
With her end approaching, Layla split her magic into tiny fragments and hid them within the very fabric of the world. She locked her power away, releasing her final prophecy into the air to be discovered only by those chosen by fate.
Then she disappeared.
Time moved on. Noor forgot. The prophecy turned into a tale, then memory, then dust.
Kingdoms were established and destroyed; greed corrupted good hearts; secrets took hold beneath royal stones. And within the kingdom, Layla’s magic lay in slumber, waiting for all of eternity.
For the wind is stirring once again.
While the servant dreams of that which he must not dream.
The princess hears voices in the darkness.
While the prince desires power he was never meant to have.
Fate is waking.
The veils are lifting.
