In the boundless silence before time had memory, before suns learned to burn and moons dared reflect their light, there was Bhravum—the One Above All. He was not born, but became, sacrificing half of his divine soul to the Wellspring of All Knowledge. In that moment, he became the God of Gods, omniscient and eternal, his thoughts older than light, his power deeper than gravity itself.
From the fragments of stardust and the breath of dying stars, Bhravum crafted the Five Realms, each with purpose, each with balance. Above them all floated Celestaris, the Golden Castle, suspended in the folds of space where galaxies sang. Its gates, forged in light, were guarded by powerful soul-spirits—loyal warriors bound by divine oath to their king.
By Bhravum's side stood his heart, his equal, his queen—Freyuma, the Cosmic Weaver. She took the shape of a celestial woman, her eyes holding the depth of stars, her soul intertwined with nature itself. It was she who sang the Sun, Moon, and Earth into rhythm. Freyuma gave birth to magic, shaped life, and shared her power with the gods. She was kindness in creation, balance in chaos—the root of harmony.
From her divine breath came her brother, Alraz, Guardian of the First World, the home of gods. Clad in living armor and wielding the Blade of Judgment, he became the Gatekeeper of Celestaris, the commander of divine legions, and protector of the sacred order. His loyalty to Bhravum was unshakable, his strength second only to the king himself.
Together, they ruled the Five Realms:
1. Zephyra – The divine sky kingdom, home of the gods.
2. Elysera – Realm of angels, winged beings who sang the winds and carried divine will.
3. Valekar – The battlefield of fallen warrior souls, watched over by Saynuma, the iron-willed general and Bhravum's minister.
4. Teravelle – Earth, the cradle of humans, seeded by the cosmic spirit Savyum, who drifted through the Sea of Stars, breathing life into planets with her touch.
5. Nerakhul – The forsaken pit of demons, of fire, ash, and hate—sealed beneath all creation.
Once radiant and wise, Vuyamin burned with ambition. He believed the throne of creation should be his. He sought power beyond balance, knowledge beyond reason. When he was denied the Crown Beyond Time, he turned to the Dark Between Worlds—a forbidden well of chaos and cursed wisdom. There, he shed his godly form and became the Great Wyrm, a colossal serpent of the void, venomous enough to kill gods, hunger vast enough to swallow galaxies.
For this betrayal, Bhravum cast him out. Alraz sealed him in the Grave Below Creation, a prison even Nerakhul feared to touch. There, in the depths of the universe where light is a myth, Vuyamin coils still, dreaming of vengeance, whispering to the weak-minded, corrupting the cracks in reality.
And now…
After eons of silence, a ripple moves through the Sea of Stars. Savyum, drifting in her waters of life, pauses. Urdlan, in his endless flight, halts mid-flap. Chayum gazes upon her reflection and sees a shadow not her own. Suya's flames flicker. Freyuma's heart aches with a sorrow she cannot name.
Only Bhravum, seated on his Throne of Suns, listens to the distant voice of Vorthen, the last ancient guide, who emerges from the Vault of Echoes and speaks one word to the King of All:
"Awakening."
The balance is shifting.
The Wyrm beneath worlds has begun to stir.