Who am I?
What am I?
Questions that you already know the answers to.
I am that tingle in the back of your mind warning of unseen eyes watching.
I am the spectre stalking every step.
I am the darkness casted by dazzling lights.
I am the monster hidden under your beds as you slumber.
I am he who is clothed in shadows.
I am the evil that devours other evil.
I am…
The Shadowed King
PROLOGUE
For centuries the magical world of Aquera has been showered in the roaring cries of war and drowned in the crimson tide that followed.
Twelve were the deities that watched the endless bloodshed without the ability to intervene due to the law of their kind.
Three were the tribunal that molded such a beautiful world into one of conquest.
To the west, the simple yet adaptable human kingdoms slaughter their way through all who opposed them. Governed by a High King and those placed in power to tend the lands ruled by his iron hand.
To the north where seas of trees thrive, various tribes of Beastmen bicker amongst themselves while most of their people are taken and sold as property. The capital of Breura sits nestled in the forests' bosom acting as a safe haven for those still left.
To the east lies the land of elves, the Ljósálfar rule in a metropolis of marble while their distant brethren known as Dökkálfar claim the southern wastelands. A continuous war wages between light and dark while superiority complexes run rampant.
All things played just as my father had planned centuries ago when we walked amongst you mortals.
An endless loop that would continue forever through the cycles of life and death as each era came into existence.
Eras that I sewn into the fabrics of time only to be destroyed and renewed for all life must end.
Though, that is not the strand I wish to record.
No, our story begins in the town of Siegfried as a lone figure clad in a troubled past stalks through its streets…