Echoes of The Sundering

There was a time when the fae lived as one. Seven kinds, each as different as the rivers from the sea, yet bound together by the same breath of magic. Their lands shimmered with beauty, their skies stretched wide and endless, and their hearts knew neither war nor fear. They danced beneath golden suns and silver moons, their laughter entwined with the wind, their voices painting the air with melodies of an unbroken world. They had no need for kings or queens, no hunger for power, for all was shared, and magic flowed through the land like the pulse of a great living being. The Seven Fae Kingdoms Zephara (Wind Fae) – Kingdom of Aeloria Their kingdom floated upon the winds, a breathtaking expanse of suspended islands draped in mist, connected by shimmering bridges of light. The ground beneath their feet was as soft as clouds, shifting gently with the breeze, and towering spires of translucent stone stretched toward the endless sky. The Wind Fae were ethereal, their delicate wings gossamer-thin, constantly catching the currents. Their hair, light as air, seemed to float around them even when they stood still, and their long, elegant fingers were designed with beautiful tattoos, shaping the winds as effortlessly as breathing. Their pointed ears twitched at the faintest whisper of a storm, attuned to the ever-changing dance of the atmosphere. Lumeira (Fire Fae) – Kingdom of Pyralis Their realm was a land of burning beauty, where the ground cracked with molten veins, and rivers of liquid fire twisted through jagged obsidian mountains. Towers of blackened stone rose high, their peaks crowned in eternal flames. The Fire Fae were striking, their skin kissed by embers, glowing faintly beneath intricate markings that shimmered like molten gold. Their fangs gleamed when they spoke, their voices carrying the crackling intensity of a wildfire. Their wings, wreathed in living flame, flickered and flared with their emotions—calm like candlelight in stillness, an inferno in anger. Their eyes burned like smoldering coals, holding the heat of an eternal blaze. Noctis (Moon Fae) – Kingdom of Nyxterra A realm bathed in eternal twilight, Nyxterra was a world of deep shadows and silvery luminescence. Its spires, made of Blackstone and moon crystal, shimmered under twin moons that never set. Pools of starlight reflected constellations unseen in any other sky, and the air thrummed with quiet, ancient magic. The Moon Fae were beings of mystery, their pale skin adorned with intricate, glowing tattoos—symbols of forgotten knowledge that pulsed softly whenever they called upon their magic. Their eyes, like the void between stars, seemed to hold endless secrets. They moved like whispers of midnight, their presence both soothing and unsettling, as if they belonged to a dream half-remembered. Sylphira (Water Fae) – Kingdom of Undari A kingdom of breathtaking beauty, Undari lay beneath cascading waterfalls and crystalline domes that reflected the ever-changing colors of the deep. The waters that surrounded it pulsed with life, shifting between calm, mirror-like pools and roaring ocean currents. The Water Fae appeared as if they were sculpted from the very essence of their realm—their skin glistening as though perpetually kissed by the tide, their hair flowing like currents in unseen waters. Their eyes held the depth of endless seas, and every movement they made rippled with liquid grace. Thryxis (Forest Fae) – Kingdom of Viridios A vast, living sanctuary, Viridios was a kingdom where nature itself breathed with magic. Colossal trees with silver leaves and bioluminescent blossoms stretched toward the sky, their branches forming entire cities woven with bridges of living vines. The Forest Fae were one with their land, skin resembling polished stone or bark, with veins of golden or emerald light pulsing beneath the surface. Their eyes shone like amber or deep forest green, filled with the wisdom of ages. Small flowers and vines wove through their hair, blooming and changing with the seasons. Their touch could mend broken branches, and their presence made the earth flourish. Solmira (Light Fae) – Kingdom of Auris A land of celestial radiance, Auris was a kingdom where golden spires floated above fields of luminous white stone. The skies never darkened, bathed in eternal, golden light that shimmered like liquid sun. The Light Fae were radiant, their skin glowing faintly as if infused with divine energy. Their eyes burned like pure sunlight, and their iridescent, feathered wings refracted light into brilliant hues. Their hair spun from silver and gold, catching the ambient glow, making them appear as living stars. Wherever they walked, shadows receded, and the air sang with harmony. * * “What do you mean he just vanished!?” One of the seven elders of the High Council, a tall fire fae, spoke with barely restrained fury. His skin glowed like embers beneath dark bronze hues, his eyes molten gold, and his hair sparked with fire as his temper flared. “I—I don’t know, sir. W-we were just wandering near the forest, and then something pulled him through the trees. "I didn’t see him again,” the young water fae stammered, trembling like a leaf. The High Council gathered, their voices sharp with worry. The seven elders, each the strongest of their kind sat within the great hall, the air thick with tension. Yet only six were present. " And where is Sylorien?" Elder Vaelior of the Moon Fae demanded, his silver eyes narrowing as he scanned the chamber. No one answered. Elder Zira of the Wind Fae shifted uneasily. "Has anyone seen him? He was meant to be here hours ago." "He has not been seen for days," Riven, the Fire Fae elder, said, his golden ember-like eyes burning brighter with frustration. "First our people vanish. Now one of us? And you expect me to believe this is mere coincidence?" “You can’t possibly believe this fae’s story. How could someone simply disappear? I’m sure he’s done something to him and is lying to our faces!” the fire fae snarled, standing abruptly, his wings fluttering in rage. “Calm down, Riven. The boy looks traumatized. Let’s hear him out,” a calm yet firm voice interjected. “Fine. Have it your way, Zira,” Riven muttered, glaring at the wind fae who had spoken. Her eerie white eyes met his without fear, daring him to challenge her further. “What are we going to do about this?” an earth fae asked. “Strange things keep happening. People keep vanishing. Our crops are dying. The wind fae can’t control the storms. And I’m sure everyone can feel that awful sense that something is wrong,” another fae added. “That’s true,” a moon fae murmured. “It’s as if the balance holding everything together is falling apart.” “We need to find a solution before—” “HELP! W-we need help!” A young fae burst through the doors, breathless and frantic. “Something is happening on Nyxterra! The whole kingdom—it’s being swallowed up!” “What are you talking about?” the moon fae demanded as all seven elders rushed out of the council hall, sprinting toward Nyxterra. The sky looked darker than normal. As they reached the borders of the Noctis Kingdom, that deep, gnawing unease they had all felt grew unbearable. They were too late. * * The kingdom of the Noctis Fae, a realm bathed in perpetual twilight, was already gone. The land had been hollowed out, stripped of its very existence. Where silver-lit forests once stood, there was only a gaping void. The rivers of black obsidian had frozen mid-flow, and turned to glass, their surfaces cracked and empty. The sky, once a canvas of eternal stars had fractured, not like shattered glass, but as though the very fabric of reality had unraveled. The silence was suffocating. Not the quiet of night, nor the hush of waiting, but a silence so absolute it crushed the air itself. The nocturnal creatures had no voices left to scream. The stars had flickered out, stolen from the heavens. The kingdom had been erased, not destroyed, not conquered, but devoured by a force beyond comprehension. And it was still spreading. It had no true shape. It twisted, writhed, constantly shifting, yet impossibly still. When the elders tried to focus on it, their minds rebelled, refusing to comprehend. It had a face but it did not. It had eyes but they were not eyes at all, only hollows that stretched endlessly inward, consuming all who gazed into them. Its mouth if it could be called that moved without sound, yet the silence that came from it was worse than any scream. It was not magic. It was not a shadow. It was the absence of both. A wrongness that should not be, yet was. The elders barely had a moment to process the horror before the force turned its hunger upon the rest of the fae world. “By the spirits,” Elder Vaelior whispered, his dark wings unfurling in alarm. “We have to stop it!” Elder Zira shouted, already weaving the first strands of protective magic. They stood in a ring, hands raised, voices raw as they wove their final barrier. Their magic, once strong enough to shape rivers and carve mountains, barely held against the thing pressing against them. It was beyond magic, beyond will. It was not just a force. It was hunger. “We cannot hold it much longer!” Elder Vaelior gasped, his silver-veined skin flickering in and out of existence. Elder Sylthra gritted her teeth, her fingers splayed wide as she forced another binding rune into place. “We must! If it breaks free—” She didn’t finish. They all knew. There would be nothing left. The void twisted, reaching, devouring. The chamber walls cracked. The sky split open, revealing a spiraling abyss where stars had once been. “We were fools,” Elder Thyrenis whispered. “We thought we understood magic. We thought we could control it.” Elder Orivian, the eldest among them, slammed his staff into the fractured stone. “Reinforce the weave! Now!” The others obeyed, pouring the last of their strength into the crumbling shield. But the power laughed—not in sound, but in sensation. A knowing amusement, a malice too ancient to be named. It pushed. The barrier shattered. And then— Light. Light. Not the gentle glow of the moons. Not the flickering fire of a hearth. This was a light that burned without flame, that commanded without words. It tore through the sky, through the abyss, through the force itself. And at its center stood Him. The fae god. His form was not one they could comprehend. He was not flesh, not mortal. He was starlight and shadow, will and eternity. Where he stood, the abyss recoiled, the force writhing in agony beneath his gaze. He raised a hand. And the world trembled. The sky howled as it was torn apart, the very air split by divine will. The land cracked and groaned, its very foundations sundered. The force screamed no sound, yet every soul in existence felt it. It fought, desperate, writhing against its imprisonment. The fae god did not waver. He wove the end of an era into existence. The land was no longer one. It was seven. Torn apart, divided, separated by barriers so absolute that no fae would cross them. Walls of shimmering energy erupted from the earth, stretching endlessly into the sky. Each fae type was sealed into its own world, isolated by an enchantment so powerful that even their memories bowed to its will. The Wind Fae’s skies became theirs alone, endless and untouchable. The Fire Fae’s molten lands were severed from all else. The Water Fae’s oceanic kingdom became unreachable, lost beyond an unbreakable tide. And so it was with each of them, locked away, blind to the truth that there had ever been others. The force was buried beneath the weight of creation itself, locked away where no mortal hand could ever reach. And then "Forget." The word was not spoken. It was felt, a command that echoed through the fabric of reality itself. The elders, the fae, all who remained forgot. They forgot Nyxterra. They forgot the Noctis Fae. They forgot the force that had nearly consumed them. They forgot that there had ever been seven elders. Their shattered world. Their own history. And as the fae god turned, his form already fading into the fabric of the heavens, he left behind a world forever changed. And so the fae lived on, unaware that their world had ever been whole. That their lost kin had ever existed. That a power beyond their understanding still lurked, watching, waiting. And in the silence of the void where the Noctis Kingdom had once stood Something stirred. It was patient. It would not be forgotten forever.