If one stands still enough in the heart of Guisse, they may hear the wailing of Spirits weaving songs of tragedy along with the wind.
Such is the story of a land too young and too isolated to offer anything except pain.
Guisse was shot in the foot before it was even given the chance to prosper. Colonists from Northern Eiffel had parted from their homeland in the hope that such rich forests might bring fertile soil - the likes of which might rival Polarys, with its grip on the riches of Lorallyn. When they dared tread to the Northwestern seas, just north of Valoma, with a penchant from the Crown, they landed in a place that seemed altogether holy.
Forests covered the land like hair - wonderful signs of life and promise for a bright, bright future on a global scale.
Lakes and hills, thick canopies that nearly cover the sight of the distant Northern Moors...
The fog should've been their first warning.
it was denser than the hands before their faces, and it clung to their skin like the humidity in Southwest Eiffel. Nothing would ease its grip on the land. Days, weeks, months, it would linger there, flickering as a candle would between stages of visibility.
Then came the plagues.
The Hauntings, they're called. Dubbed from the way diseases seemed to follow them, no matter how far the colonists had gone to distance themselves. Villages - sometimes great numbers at a time, vanished without a trace. Only corpses were left in their wake: frigid and still, lying in their beds or sitting in chairs, undisturbed for years on end.
Eiffel has long since abandoned its claim to Guisse, thinking it nothing but a ghost land, or a calloused warning against Pride. But pockets of life have sprung up throughout the years, and some have remained.
This is an introduction to the world I am currently building where my WIP Where Souls End takes place.
The Aether itself seems to be an alternate world to Earth. Having the same blue sky during the day, with the same moon and constellation of stars during the night. However, instead of the lush array of green foliage and brown soil tones, The Aether has varying blue hues throughout its landscapes. With deserts made from teal sand, sapphire forests glittered with vibrant flowers, and crystal oceans that meet with deep navy beaches.
The Aether is an afterlife for Souls. A world where Souls are able to feel physical sensation for the first time in their existence. Compared to the Corporeal World they were once trapped within, the rules of existence as they knew, are now bent and exaggerated. The Aether gives a physical body to Souls which allows them to live without expiration from old age or disease, they are suspended in an eternal state of youth. However, destruction of the Soul in the afterlife is a very real possibility, Souls can cause damage and harm to each other directly and inadvertently. Souls do not have the ability to reproduce, there is no need due to their immortality, they find love and fulfilment within themselves and each other. New Souls are born within the Corporeal World, how Souls are born is unknown, with the only explanation being a higher power in control of both worlds.
There are three types of Souls that transcend to The Aether:
Sapien Souls; rational, thoughtful Souls that once inhabited humans, capable of communication, complex cognition, and have extraordinary powers based on their dispositions and second-hand experiences in the Corporeal World. The Aether gives Sapien Souls a physical body similar the human body.
Thirio Souls; perceptive, sensitive Souls that once inhabited animals, they as not capable of complex thoughts but can sense emotions within all Souls. Their forms are not limited to their Earthly appearances and are able to morph into creatures resembling human mythology.
Phyto Souls; the most simplistic Souls, sentient plants that have a limited range of mobility and emotion, very different to the plants that grow naturally within The Aether, which are without Souls, these are what Sapien and Thirio Souls eat and use to build with.
Below is an exert from the beginning of the first draft, giving an idea of how Sapien Souls existed in the Corporeal World, and how they transcend to The Aether:
The Immortal Soul, born imprisoned within the human body.
Looking through the eyes of humanity, encased behind its numbing barrier.
Decades become centuries, centuries turn to millennia, the Immortal Soul outlives body after body, time, and time again, distracted by the appetency of the mortals they inhabit. Desperate to experience the same pleasureful fulfilment humanity battles over.
The Immortal Soul can only watch life continue without them, merely observe emotions and sensations residing in an untouchable material world.
The only way the Immortal Soul can experience life, is to want one of its own. To seek singular existence outside of the Corporeal World, away from humanity. Perhaps then, they could feel a world bare to their spirit, beyond any frame. Have faith that there is an afterlife for their individual continuation. Somewhere they will ultimately meet without masks.
May they one day transcend to The Aether.
Thirio and Phyto Souls transcend to The Aether in a different manner to Sapien, these Souls held the strongest wills to survive in the Corporeal World only to have their bodies killed by humans, transcend to The Aether, Sapiens believe that it is a reward for their longevity and even a way of forcing the Souls to live in harmony.
I’ll be posting more information about the history of Sapiens inhabitance in The Aether soon!
Split into these five countries, Saecularia is the world of Project: Easton.
About 100 years ago, this peaceful continent began to be taken over by the one known as the Regnora Eversor, or the destroyer of kingdoms. Peaceful magical creatures roam the land, but those under the Regnora Eversor’s control are mindless monsters, attacking everything she wishes them to.
Normally, there should be no way that Earth and Saecularia interact, but Easton somehow finds himself here.
history and info about the five races under the cut! (i implore you to click under the cut, there’s lots and lots of info!
FAIRIES
The Fairy Kingdom, previously known as the Mediocris Regnum, is easily the largest of all the countries. The land is rich with resources, and they have massive power and strength. However, they are relatively peaceful. This is because of Queen Titania, the kind and just ruler who lives in Fluquora.
The fairies are known for being generous and fair, and have good relationship with every other race, even the dragons. They live an average of 500 years, but some have lived up to 800. Wyatt is currently 158, so he has many years to go.
Dense forests largely make up the country, but there are also marshes in the south and snowy mountains to the north. It meets three other countries, the dwarves, elves, and dragons, at Mons Altus, the tallest mountain in Saecularia.
They’re the last standing country in the war against the Regnora Eversor.
FLUQUORA, THE SILVER PALACE
Fluquora is where most of the fairy population lives, and it certainly lives up to its name. In actuality, the entire palace is a gigantic tree, and the outside is silver. It is hidden to outsiders, which is slightly disappointing because the inside is absolutely breathtaking. It’s also where Easton found himself after arriving in Saecularia.
After being sent on the quest, Easton tours the castle with Wyatt, and finds that the castle is much more impressive than he first thought—there’s a zoo, a library, an arena, a kitchen, and even rooms that change to fit your needs.
Long ago, Fluquora was invaded by a group of humans, and they stole tales of heroes from the grand library. Those books later became known as fairy tales.
Surrounded by a dense, colourful forest, the castle fits up to half a million people, and with housing, food, entertainment, and more, it’s a great place to live. Queen Titania watches over the castle tree from her throne on the highest floor.
DWARVES
Most of the dwarven country is rocky and not great for agriculture, but the scholars of Aldartal found a way to transform small amounts of land to fit their needs. Large canyons and highlands are found in the west and north part of the country, and to the east and south are plains.
The Dwarven and Fairy Kingdoms meet together at Myrn, the Seaside Town, which is a hub for trading for the two races. Tourism is plentiful, and it is known for its incredible stargazing spots. The town is neither dwarven or fairy territory, but a mix between the two.
The dwarves were the second kingdom to fall to the Regnora Eversor, along with the dragons.
ALDARTAL, THE CITY OF CRYSTALS
Aldartal is the city of scholars and blacksmiths, and both live side-by-side in the underground city. Beautiful white and blue crystals the size of buildings light up the dark cave. The crystals embedded on the walls are a sight to behold, and also have a magic attribute to them—they are one of the strongest materials in the world. The blacksmiths there often make weapons and armor using the crystal.
The library there is so huge that it rivals even Fluquora’s. With stories upon stories upon stories of books and scrolls, it’s no wonder so many scholars and professors are drawn to this alluring city of crystals.
There, the sage known as Korbin guards information about Aeternum.
ELVES
The elves are possibly the strangest race. They are powerful, cunning, and smart, yet they seem to be robots—it’s rare they show emotion other than hostility and anger. (Although, not all of them are as emotionless as Aryia. She’s even more than most.) Nobody knows how they became this way.
They are governed by a well-established and strong council, consisting of five sage elves. The country is stable as can be, and its main industry before the Regnora Eversor was mining and mercenary work.
About 800 years ago, the elves fought against the dragons in a war for land and resources. The dragons wanted more land so they could live in places other than the capital, but the elves refused to give in. Ultimately, nobody won, and the countries stayed the same. It lasted nearly fifty years.
The elves were the last out of the four fallen kingdoms to submit to the Regnora Eversor, about forty years before Easton first arrives.
OSHONA, THE CITY OF AUTUMN
Oshona gets its name from the endless autumn it seems to have, with all the other seasons being extremely short. The ground is covered in red and orange leaves for about 8 months of the year.
The Vitus Tower, in the center of the capital, is a great source of magic. There, people can cast spells without losing much energy, as it is immediately replenished by the plentiful magic in the air. This is one of the two sources of magic, the other being somewhere in the Fairy Kingdom.
DRAGONS
Not much is known about this elusive race, other than the fact that they are only half of what they claim to be—half human is what they are. But that doesn’t make them any less terrifying, as they can turn into a full sized dragon with a snap of their fingers and crush you without any effort. Nobody knows how long they live, or if they even die.
The war they had against the elves for land changed the world. It was only stopped after the other races joined in, but the two still harbor resentment for each other, even after so long.
Xarrin, known as the Protector of the Skies, is the King of the dragons, and Caelym’s father. He is unrelenting and stubborn, and his rule has led them to prosper. However he is growing old, and Caelym is his only son. King Xarrin is hard and strict with him, as he wishes for him to become a good king, even better than him.
When the Regnora Eversor first attacked, King Xarrin surrendered without a fight, causing many dragons and non-dragons alike to dislike him. However, he decided that it was for the good of all the dragons.
VARCIUS, THE RUBY CITY
Hidden deep inside a mountain range, it’s rare that anyone ever visits Varcius. Most are too afraid to step inside the city for fear of death, but the few that do don’t stay for very long. There are rumours of giant crystals and fountains of wealth, and that’s where Varcius got its nickname.
The entire population is condensed into this single capital, located on the easternmost part of the country. This is because the rest of the land is essentially inhabitable, with deserts, badlands, and mountains everywhere.
FAUNS
The kingdom of the fauns is small but resourceful. With warm climates and exotic flora, it has a knack for tourism. Unfortunately, the fauns are also the most discriminated race, and many people see them as below themselves. However, things have gotten much better in the past hundred years, and for the most part, they are seen as equal to everyone else.
Nearly every faun is born with horns and legs of a goat, but there are a few who can pass as otherwise. At first, they hated it, but in time learned to accept themselves and be proud of their race.
Many fauns are very much peaceful, but there are a few who rise up and want to fight. Fevira is one of these few, who was always a great warrior but took a step further after the Regnora Eversor attacked her town four years ago, killing half of the population living there.
Having a small government, the fauns were the first to fall to the Regnora Eversor.
LEVALON, THE CITY OF MERIT
Despite Levalon’s well-kept front, a large portion of the population is poor. They suffer in the harsh, heat-driven weather, but with the other races’ aid, especially the fairies, they have begun to prosper.
In the past, the rest of Saecularia called Levalon “the City of Merit,” as they once believed that the fauns deserved their poverty and shame. The rest of the world later apologized for their actions, but Levalon kept its name, as they chose to give it a different meaning—that the fauns worked hard to get where they are now, and they merit the praise.
Wolves wail for their fallen brethren, but the blood hasn't yet left their tongues.
Shadows fall born in the heart of night cling to the hours of the day, like a baby to a breast, nursing on the midnight clouds that hang over the sky.
Oceans of dead grass, on occasion, are broken for the rubble of a town. Piles of stone tell of its age. Pots and pans lay abandoned on the stove. A child's doll, crudely fashioned from sticks and straw, hangs over a giant gash in the ground, where now, there is only dirt.
The old cathedral is a cemetery for statues' remains. Among them, among dirt and stone and dead thickets and thorn bushes, stained glass captures the light of the stars - a display some with their marble features caked in mud, may never see again.
Crowds roar above the clanking of metal chains. Beast tamers ready their whips while animals thrash in their cages, and fighters line up one by one as nothing but pillars to each other’s slaughter. Screams of delight flee from wet, drunken lips as the sun dips low into the ocean’s palette. Shadows rise and fill the air of the arena.
The Chosen lift their thumbs.
The show begins.
An active volcano watches over all from its throne in the mountains of the main island, chanting the anthem of the people.
A tale of hunger. A tale of bloodlust. A tale of tradition and pride, of suffering and stagnation.
Welcome to Valoma.
A set of islands perched in the Western Ocean, it’s often debated whether or not humanity was birthed on its very shores. Skeletons, whose names have been stolen by centuries and centuries of desert sands, seem to breathe new life when they drink the sweat from archeologists' brows.
Valoma takes this belief in stride - flaunting it to other kingdoms whenever possible, and opting for the ways of the past in lieu of modern magic systems and mechanical caskets. The streets of the capital, Roselly, are winding mazes littered with cloth shields from the searing sun. The street markets buzz with merchants who scream one another hoarse, children dash about while dogs wail for bones from the butcher.
Not a single coin lies within any of their pockets.
High on the hills, before the mountainous volcanoes, are the palaces of the rich. Gold coins scatter about marble flooring. Guards and army men lie in wait for an enemy that's bound to come. Among them, ancient statues whisper their secrets - tales of a time long, long ago, when great heros weren't so treated like the slaves below.
Being the central and largest island on the map, Eiffel has more than its fair share of influence. With its sheer breadth and wealth of history, Eiffel has set a standard the rest of the world may only strive to compete with.
While there are a plethora of striking cities known to it, none are quite so notable as the capital, Monarisse. Towering mountains and winding caves dress her shores the same as they do the rest of the land, providing an ocean of crystals that never run dry.
To Eiffel, crystals are currency as much as they are decoration. And the magic often found within them give power to the technology seldom seen in any other kingdom.
With a sprawling maze of Art Deco buildings, all dressed in a haze of precious metals, music and light and laughter pour out from every window. Cameras roar with pops and flashes, capturing monochrome photographs for the simple price of a rhinestone or two. Horseless carriages race past couples strolling hand in hand, while a blanket of stars overlook them all.
It isn’t a wonder why Katalina of Envy has made this place her home.
Perhaps the only land that competes with Eiffel’s technological advancements, Geldour is home to the sin of Greed. Lightning buzzes in the air - the sky always lit by storm - while, down below, energy crackles in the land's mechanical heart: the city of Grayve.
Home to a steampunk-industrial maze of skyscrapers and penthouses, only the richest of the rich own the right to rule in Geldour. Denizens of all sorts may cast their vote for the Grand Duchy, but in the end, just a single vote from the aristocracy may overturn all.
Smog laces the breaths in one’s lungs, as they skate down the streets of endless night, starving dogs, and orphans hunched at their feet. While they race like rats in the sewers, the jingling of coins and jewels tell of one’s great worth. A rhythm fills the air as much as the great airships that fly overhead - a rhythm of cogs and gears, of clocks and steam, of chattering and the sharpening of knives.
It’s ancient wisdom to hold your fortune to your chest. It’s never truly safe in a pair of empty jaws.
A kingdom that looks down upon all from its throne to the far North, Polarys was once the home of the twins, Lust and Pride. While they each shared the title of heir, Morannah of Lust was the one chosen to be groomed for the throne - a decision quite contested, though mostly from the mouths of the heirs themselves.
It is, after all, Pride that rules the streets of the capital. Not Lust.
With a crown forged in iron, Polarys sees no issue in taking what they think they deserve. They make themselves rich from the bounty of islands they’ve laid claim to throughout the many centuries of their existence.
Lorallyn is but one of these.
Once its own kingdom, ripe with vegetation and waters fairer than the eyes may comprehend, Lorallyn was overtaken by Polarys many centuries ago. Tales from the days of independence are carried on like rumours across generations.
A time when buildings were more than gothic strips of black and red and sapphire blue. A time when polar winds hadn’t spread across their land like a plague. A time when their waters ran warm and hot - never frozen, never stolen for divination or healing.
