The Chronicles of Power

In paradise incomparable, where birds sang freely in the slight, unwavering breeze, the sun shone with a glory unparalleled. The ground covered in lush green vegetation, drank in the rays of the sun. Tiny rivulets played along the contours of the land, granting it an appearance of perfection. The sun, a glorious beacon of hope, peace and prosperity, shone its golden rays upon the earth. Two mighty rivers roared down the countryside carrying precious, life-giving water. Between the rivers stood a majestic city, with grace and architecture unseen elsewhere in the world. It was surrounded by a pure white marble wall that glimmered in the light of the sun.

Inside the walls, houses made of only the finest materials stood. Homes that seemed as though poured from the Creator’s hands. The roads crisscrossed and followed the curves of the land and where there were hills, the paths would slant upward. The paving was made of a precious stone that gleamed in the light of the setting sun. As one would get closer to the center of this majestic city, one would notice that the structures would increase steadily in height. In the center of it all, stood a majestic tower, one made of pure crystal. Above its airy peak hovered a large blue stone, around which three smaller ones revolved.

The stone was the city’s heart. At night, it powered the magical lanterns that stood in every street for it was believed that the shadow was an evil force. The stone provided a shield from this evil, a barrier that has stood for centuries. No evil can enter the city, nor can any evil get out.

At sunset, the city would look beautiful, the light bouncing off of it, giving it grandeur unequaled. To see the spectacle would have left one happy for a year, or so rumor said.

The city is called Illiuna or City of Illusions. Rumor had that it was created by the gods themselves. In this city, humans and spirits alike mingled without fear of ridicule or abuse. Here, no fights broke out for each and every one of its denizens cared for the sake of its other inhabitants. Illiuna once had seven guardians, the Archspectre, the Archangel, the Mighty Eagle, the Lone Wolf, The Graceful Sworddancer, The Swift Thief and the Lowly Peasant. All seven wielded power unparalleled; they maintained peace in the city. All but one of these seven guardians died of old age. The Archangel is the only remaining guardian of the city. He was a symbol of justice immortalized in the pages of history. He still lived after almost seven millennia of guarding the city.

The city had a single high chronicler, called such because her duty is to record events. The only difference is that the high chronicler can record events of the future. The high chronicler is only human, and she is replaced every time she dies. Every ninety years or so, the high chronicler reads out what she has recorded for coming years. All but the previous high chronicler had a good foretelling of what was to come …

In the middle of her announcement, she fell into a trance and began to mumble incoherently. Discomfort spread through the crowd as the high chronicler continued to make no sense. Just as things began to get troublesome, the high chronicler’s eyes flickered open. A scream was heard somewhere in the crowd when the chronicler’s eyes turned pitch black. In a shaking voice, one filled with terror, she said

“Long has the Dark One waited,
No longer can he be sated
He seeks the powers of the Eldar
The world will be his to take

The shadow shall triumph,
The light shall hide
In crystals the Dark One shall seal,
Seal the most powerful spirit

In time of tragedy, a hundred years
Three will be born to save humanity
They will face the dark on bloody field
Neither side will be willing to yield

The fate of the world will be decided
The moment the battle ends
If the battle ends, that is.
It may continue to eternity

I can see a blood strewn battlefield
I can see the dust of battle settling
Both sides are still standing
But I see a force much more menacing…”

As she finished saying the final verse, she collapsed, dead. This was to be known later on as the Medranaian Prophecy, after the high chronicler who delivered it.

Seeds of discord were sown throughout the city, and it gave in to chaos for a time. It settled later on and began to prepare for the inevitable.

The Seventh Day after the Equinox in the Seven Millenia after the Hundred-Year War

The sun had set, and the brilliant colors that it had cast upon the clouds were fading. The golden motes of dust and sand that floated in the beams of light began to recede into shadow. The slivers of the glorious day’s light had begun to fade. Spirits and humans alike in the city started to return to their homes as the lamps began to glow.

When the final rays of light sank beneath the horizon, Archangel began his nightly routine of patrolling. While the city’s other denizens basked in the light of the bright circle in the skies, he walked the streets in the shade of the night. He had begun to think it silly to be out this late, trying to ward off evil. He knew all too well that the elder crystal was more than capable of holding the barrier up for a few more millennia.

Tonight was much like any other night, he thought, as he donned his armor. He was about to put on his helmet but he reconsidered it. Picking up his sword, he stretched his arms and feathered wings. He made his way to the door and opened it. The door swung silently outward, as though on oiled hinges.

Archangel yawned as he walked across the streets of the city of illusions. The gentle breeze wafted across his face, making his golden hair move slightly. It was a boring night, everything was as it should be, but little did he know that something was about to happen that will change everything.

The night went on without much to note. The time passed, but everything was still.

“Everything is as it should be. Why must I even stay up so late to do nothing?” complained Archangel to himself sourly. He had just finished patrolling the higher tiers of the city and was on to the square around the crystal tower. Just as he rounded the corner of the street he was walking along, he saw a scholar limping toward him. Upon closer inspection the man was pale and terrified.

“My good man! You seem so horrified. May I ask why?” said Archangel, concern heavy upon his deep, musical voice. “The t-t-tower!” stammered the elderly man. “The tower, what happened?” asked Archangel, definitely worried at this point in time. “C-c-come! S-see fo-f-for y-yy-yourself!” stammered the man. “Lead the way” said Archangel.


Archangel’s jaw dropped at the sight of the tower. The square around it had turned to pure diamond. A small leaf fell from one of the balconies around the square. When the leaf touched the ground, it turned into diamond and fell apart. Somewhere in the city, a bell tolled midnight.

Veins of blue light shot across the ground as waves of magic rushed from the base of the tower. Three concentric circles of paving lifted from the ground. Upon the stone circles, arcane engravings appeared and began to glow an eerie blue. Magic radiated from cracks in the ground, making small things levitate in midair.

The stone circles began to spin madly in different directions, each accelerated to a blur. Then for some mysterious reason, they stopped. The magic and light snapped back into the tower, as though bands of rubber that were severed. Then from the skies crashed down what seemed to be a torrent of red, liquid light. It bathed the crystal tower in a blood red glow.

Archangel looked around as he heard the scholar shout in despair. He followed the old man’s gaze up into the clouds and saw that the moon was beginning to turn red. Archangel began to put two and two together and cried in amazement.

The reddening light of the full moon illuminated a lone figure, standing atop a distant crag. The crimson light revealed a handsome, chiseled face, bluish-silver hair and fair skin. The leather he wore easily followed the finely crafted edifices of his body. He wore a cloak that billowed in the gentle breeze. He drew a hood over his head and looked to the skies.

Who could have known that such a beautiful creature was capable of great evil. As the slight breeze grew relentless in power, the moon became fully crimson. A ringing blast of bluish-red energy tore through the landscape. As it hit the man atop the crag, it diffused into the air. He at once knew it was time.

Power, it was just a hairsbreadth from his grasp. He will finally be able to wreak his wrath upon the unaware world. The world that had once betrayed him, the world that had taken his beloved Therea was to fall on its knees. He had waited seven millennia for this moment, after failing seven thousand years ago. It was only in the moment of the Eldar Eclipse that he could attempt at the crystal’s power.

Curse the seven guardians! He said. He had succeeded in conspiring against the seven, eventually killing six of them. He had been unable to get rid of Archangel in time. Of course he could have simply broken into Archangel’s thoughts and killed him from there. The only problem was that he couldn’t. After all, he despised Archangel most and desired to kill him personally.

“Well, I’m burning moonlight” he thought to himself and began the arduous journey toward the city