ADAMAH - BOOK I: THE AWAKENING OF THE ASTROS

I. The Whisper of the Stars "The elders say that in the beginning there was only the whisper of the stellar wind... and from the breath of the stars, the world was born." Long before the kingdoms of Adamah raised their walls, before the castles, the wars, and the names carved in stone, there was only Light. An ancient light, pure and vibrant, that filled everything with its energy. From it emerged Adamah: a vast, fertile world, full of nameless seas, singing rivers, and mountains that danced with the skies. But even before the light, something nameless had already awakened. Something that time cannot touch and death cannot silence. The First One. An incorporeal shadow, witness to the birth of all creation, waiting patiently among the invisible threads of the cosmos. When the first men awoke, the world embraced them with generosity. They learned to sow, to build, to raise their voices in songs that reverberated through the valleys. And when those songs reached the stars, the stars answered. It was then that the Stars came. Seven fragments of celestial consciousness, pure souls born from the heart of the heavens. They were not gods, nor men, nor beasts. They were balance. Life. Strength. And they were sent to dwell among the peoples of Adamah, hidden in flesh and spirit, until their presence was needed again. Each Star carried a part of the world's order: fire, water, wind, time, truth, destiny... and love. But like all light, their existence also awakened darkness. The arrival of the Stars brought an era of prosperity. The seas calmed their storms. The trees bore fruit without ceasing. The skies remained blue for generations. Mankind, guided by invisible wisdom, prospered. And so the seven kingdoms were born: Asturias, by the eternal sea, fisher of stars. Gaya, hidden under the great crystal waterfall. Saris, a fortress between mountains and sky. Isagar, realm of secrets and shadows. Felian, garden of eternal flowers and songs. Paris, land of fire and forge. Amethet, where the sun never sleeps and the sand sings. Each kingdom raised its banner. Each built towers, forged swords, and wrote its history. But with time, the balance began to crumble. The peoples forgot the ancient songs. The Stars became legends. And in the c***k of their oblivion, the nameless Shadow — the First One — found an opening. And so the slow decline began. First, wars. Then, betrayals. Then, the silence of the wise. But not all was lost. An ancient prophecy, written in a language no one remembers, promised that when the world forgot the light, the Stars would awaken. That one of them would sacrifice himself for all. And that darkness would have a name... but not an end. Because not everything can be destroyed. Some evils are not born. Some evils simply exist. And so, under increasingly murky skies, Adamah still waited. It waited for the memory of the stars to return. For love to be reborn. For balance to awaken. And for the story to begin again. II. The King of Peace In the trees of time, when human beings lived in harmony with the gods and even with demons, there existed a world called Adamah. In this world, the divine king ruled in peace; the sky shone in all its vastness, and the trees showed the greatness of the empire. That king was named O'Connor. He had begun his reign at the age of ten, after his father's death, and ruled wisely for decades. Under his rule, the seven kingdoms knew an era of unprecedented prosperity. Trade routes flourished. Armies became guardians, not invaders. And the Eliot Clan, the king's divine warriors, known for their strength and courage, had forgotten the taste of war. O'Connor married a beautiful woman named Ana, who gave him three daughters: Sakura, Amelia, and Serenidad, the last of whom he never got to know. The palace of Paris, capital of the empire, was a beacon of light and hope. Its white marble towers rose toward the sky, its gardens perfumed the air, and its fountains sang day and night. There, the royal family lived happily, unaware of the shadows brewing in the hearts of men. But happiness, like light, always casts a shadow. And that shadow had a name. Arman Eliot. III. The Day the World Broke The day Ana gave birth to her youngest daughter, the sky over Paris was covered with an unusual mantle of stars. A seven-pointed constellation shone with an intensity never seen before, as if the gods themselves were watching the birth. Inside the palace, in a room lit by lunar wax candles, Queen Ana lay exhausted but radiant. In her arms, the newborn slept peacefully, unaware of the world awaiting her. "She's beautiful," said O'Connor, kneeling beside his wife, tears of joy in his eyes. "Serenity. We'll call her Serenity." Ana smiled, weak but happy. "Our daughter... our little light." At that moment, the doors of the room burst open. Arman Eliot entered with his sword drawn. His armor, the same he had shared in a hundred battles alongside O'Connor, was stained with blood. Not from enemies, but from the guards who had tried to stop him. "Arman..." said O'Connor, rising. "What is the meaning of this?" The commander of the Eliot Clan did not answer. He only advanced, step by step, with a look his lifelong friends had never seen. A mix of hatred, pain, and something deeper: obsession. "I'm sorry, old friend," said Arman, his voice hollow. "But this had to happen." The sword plunged into O'Connor's chest before he could draw his own. The king fell to his knees, blood gushing from the wound. He did not look at his killer. His eyes sought Ana, who watched the scene in paralyzing horror. "I... love... you," he managed to whisper. And then his gaze faded into emptiness. Ana's scream tore through the night. "No! O'Connor!" Arman knelt before her, his eyes full of tears he did not know whether they were of pain or triumph. "Ana... it's done. Now I can protect you. We will rule together, as it always should have been." But Ana, with the last of her strength, cursed him. "I never loved you as I loved him," she whispered, her eyes full of hatred and sorrow. "Never. And for your madness, for your spilled blood, your own blood will live to destroy you. I swear it, Arman Eliot! Your blood will be your ruin!" Then, with a superhuman effort, she turned her head toward the door. A seven-year-old girl, with hair as dark as night and violet eyes, had just run in. It was Sakura, her eldest daughter. "Mom!" the little girl screamed, paralyzed by horror. Ana gathered her last strength. With a gesture, she pointed to a heavy tapestry on the wall. "Sakura..." her voice was barely a whisper. "Behind the tapestry... the passage... take Serenity... and Amelia... and run. Run, my child, don't look back!" Sakura, with survival instinct stronger than fear, acted. She ran to the crib, took the newborn in her arms, grabbed her sister Amelia (barely three years old, crying scared in a corner) by the hand, and lunged toward the tapestry. Behind it, a secret door creaked open. Before disappearing into the darkness, Sakura looked back one last time. She saw her mother, smiling at her with a peace not of this world. She saw Arman, standing, motionless, his sword dripping blood. Then the door closed. IV. The New King Arman did not try to pursue them. He stayed there, kneeling, holding Ana's lifeless body in his arms. For a long minute, he did not move. He just held her, as if she might still wake. But she did not wake. Slowly, he stood. He took the bloodstained sword and with it, cut off O'Connor's head. He walked out onto the palace's main balcony. The crowd, drawn by rumors and shouts, began to gather in the square. When they saw the king's b****y head held high, a murmur of horror ran through the streets. "The king is dead!" shouted Arman, his voice echoing throughout Paris. "I, Arman Eliot, commander of the Eliot Clan, am your new king!" The silence was absolute. No one applauded. No one protested. The people simply fell silent. And in that complicit silence, tyranny was born. That night, as Paris burned in flames and fear spread through the seven kingdoms, three little girls ran through a dark passageway toward an uncertain future. O'Connor's empire had fallen. But the story... had only just begun. V. The Seal of the Void Deep within the palace, under the iron throne where Arman would sit for the first time the next day, a stone slab engraved with ancient runes began to glow with a faint light. It was the Seal of the Void, one of the seven that kept a dimension of pure darkness imprisoned. It cracked. And on the other side, something ancient, hungry, and infinite opened an eye. VI. The Whisper of the Prophecy In a secluded mansion, in the heart of the kingdom of Gaya, a woman with eyes white as the moon let her quill fall onto the parchment. Anyanka had been waiting for that night for years. Years of watching the sky, reading signs in the flight of birds and the murmur of rivers. And now, at last, she had felt it. A change. Something had broken in the balance of the world. Before her, an ancient black leather book lay open. On its central page, a symbol glowed with its own light: a seven-pointed star, embossed in gold. Anyanka reached out and touched the symbol. For an instant, a vision shot through her like lightning: three girls running in the darkness, a warrior with white wings, an immense shadow devouring everything. And then, silence. She withdrew her hand, trembling. She looked out the window. The seven-pointed star still shone in the sky, though it was beginning to fade with the approach of dawn. "It has begun," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "May the gods help us." She closed the book. On the last page, where the ink was still fresh, she had written a few lines. It was not a complete prophecy. Only the beginning of something she did not yet fully understand: "Seven shall seek... and one shall find." She left the book on the table and lost herself in the mansion's twilight. Outside, the wind began to blow again. It carried with it the echo of a question that no one could yet answer: Why did he do it?