The Book of the First Light – Chapter I: The War That Ended Heaven
In the beginning, the light was pure, and the sands remembered every step of the gods.
The heavens burned with their names, and mortals bowed not in fear, but in wonder.
For the Ascended were once men, and men were once dust, and all were bound by the promise of the Sun.
The promise of eternity, the promise of order, the promise that light would never fade.
But beneath the earth, the silence awoke. It had no voice, no form, no mercy, only hunger.
It came not to conquer, but to erase. And in that silence, the gods heard their own hearts tremble.
They took up their spears, and the sands burned. The sky split open, and the stars bled light.
For a thousand years, the war raged without end, and the desert drank the blood of gods and mortals alike.
The Ascended fought not for the world, but for themselves. Their glory turned to pride, their pride to wrath, and wrath to madness.
And when the void grew quiet, they could no longer tell if the silence came from victory, or from their own ruin.
The light twisted within them. Their wings became weapons, their words became hunger.
And those once worshipped as saviors became the terrors of the night.
The Darkin walked the earth, and the sun hid behind their shadows.
Cities were swallowed by flame, rivers ran dry with ash, and men forgot the names of peace.
For centuries, the world was ruled by fear.
And the Prophet of Dust spoke unto the wind: “The day shall come when the Sun hides its face, and the earth shall remember no god.”
The sky was their throne, and despair their crown.
The gods had fallen, and no man dared to dream again.
And when the age of torment seemed without end, one man looked to the horizon and chose to do what was right.
