Orvonia was both a planet of extreme biodiversity and polarisation. The world had six Continents, one for each cardinal direction, one in the middle of them all and...one that had been wiped of the face of the earth. Each Continent held countless secrets and mysteries, and natural wonders to behold. Yet how exactly these traits were showcased differed between each landmass.
The Gaia Continent was mainly comprised of lush rainforests, sprawling plans and savannas, towering mountain peaks and titanic bodies of water dotted here and there. It was truly the Continent of the Goddess of Earth and God of Nature, with vegetation and nature overflowing in a splendid manner.
The Ouranos Continent was actually a collection of nearly a hundred islands, differing from small to the size of a chunk of the other Continents. It was the most diverse of the Continents, with each island differing slightly from the last. Peninsulas, archipelagos, strands and coral reefs galore for you to take in, with volcanoes and tropical paradises dotted around the ocean.
Borealis was a frozen wasteland, but there is always beauty in every place if you look hard enough. Amidst the frozen stretches of land were frozen lakes and rivers, towering crystal palaces, spires of ice and stone, and thermal hotspots. There was a rustic and isolated charm to the land, where silence entrapped time and eternity was materialised.
Tartarus was chaotic and bloody, with the very air being sulfuric and toxic to touch. Yet the black and red blurred to form its own charm, as even mud can produce a flowering lily in the right scenario. Streams of lava, staggering volcanoes, hills and mountains that reached the sky, black asphalt and marble that formed bizarre natural structures...The scenery would certainly suit the tastes of certain people.
Astoria was the crowning jewel of Orvonia. It was a place of myths and hymns, of songs and fairy tales. Cities of golds and silver, marble monuments and pantheons of intrinsic glass. Overflowing wealth, harvest and vitality that stretched to every corner of the land. And of course, the presence of Angels and Dragons added to the sense of majesty and fantasy. The rivers ran gold in Astoria, and the grass was a greener hue than anything found of the Gaia Continent. It combined the best of all it's neighbours and improved upon them.
Neriea...was the opposite of Astoria. What is is like, no one can accurately tell, since the Continent disappeared from history at the end of the Third Era with the fall of the Almighty Primordial. According to what little stories remain, the land was once similar in beauty to Astoria, or even superior. This was because the land was carved out for Humanity and their needs by the Almighty, a haven built specifically for them and their progeny. But after the fall, Neriea fell to corruption and degeneration. The Churches recall the land as an unrepentant abyss, Hell that devours all who deign approach. While the Continent has never officially reappeared, nightmares and spooks in the dark tell of how the cursed land arrives in the dreams of Humanity and beckons them to their doom, enticed by dark secrets and malicious ravings.
The world of Orvonia is constantly being bent to fit the image its inhabitants hold, especially the Gods. The rich foliage of the Gaia Continent was spurred on by Gaia, Dendron and Tiamat to an almost unnatural extent. Legends claim Polydorus and Calypso flooded much of the Ouranos Continent, breaking away pieces of one combined landmass and creating the islands from it. Tartarus is covered in a smog of darkness and ash, courtesy of Xerxes, Nyx and the Evil Gods that inhabit the smouldering land. Borealis was frozen solid during an ancient battle between Gods in the Second Era, the details of the participants obscured by history.
Astoria and all its artificial beauty was sculpted by the Angels and Valarius later adopted by Dragon king Morduch and then the Almighty Primordial. The land was purposely tailored to house the Divine, and all that would interfere with that was purged from the land. So the magnus opus of Orvonia was no different from a flower grown in a greenhouse, cared and nurtured in a cage.
Neriea was the most extreme example of what change a God can bring to the environment. The clash of Aenrys, Navruavati and Seraphic against the Almighty and "His" subordinates drowned the Continent, snuffing out the millions of souls living there. A permanent night fell, and filth poured from the sky to engorge all life. Mutations and insanity perverted the very nature of reality on the Neriea Continent, and concepts like space and time ceased to function properly. From what little research had been conducted on the land before its disappearance, simply touching a single handful of dirt would cause a poison on the level of a Deity's curse to grip you, and death would be the least of your concerns.
The most extreme and best representative of the climate on each Continent would be the Divine Kingdoms of the Gods. On the Gaia Continent was a gargantuan forest that stretched as far as the eye could see, over the horizon. It was situated on an equally massive hill of dirt and stone, with a fully functioning biosphere of life operating there. In the centre of the forest, which was also the middle of the hill, was a palace made on interlocking trees and vegetation. It looked liked a castle straight out of a fairy tale, where a slumbering princess would await her prince.
Inside the palace was a grand hall where two thrones were situated, one from tree branches and the other compact soil with grass covering it like a carpet. A man and woman sat in the chairs, both with green hair and eyes, though the shades were different. Their eyes were closed, but they opened in synchronisation suddenly. They looked out of the palace, towards the east, and the air around them changed from still to brimming with unseen energy.
"The Abomination is on the move."
.................
Somewhere deep within the frozen tundra's of the Borealis Continent was a twirling spire of ice that stood alone, no other structures of formation visible for miles. The ice it was comprised of shined and glistened, reflecting and bending whatever light fell upon it and creating fluttering illusions. The spire was hollow on the inside and mostly empty, except for a room at the very top of the spire. Inside was a simple chair, table and bookshelf. A figure sat lazily in the chair, a young man with short cropped black hair and eyes that bordered between purple and red. He wore a very formal outfit: a two piece suit accompanied by a tie and neck handkerchief. Several rings with dazzling gems were on his fingers, while three pocket watches were attached to his shirt.
In the man's hand was a small brown book without words on the cover, and he flipped through the pages lazily, boredom clear from his posture. Yet when the man went to turn the page, his hand paused on the parchment. He looked up from his book and adjusted the monocle on his left eye, a small smile slowly spreading across his face. He closed the book and threw it into a corner, where it vanished before hitting the ground.
He then stood up and stretched slightly before putting his hand out in front of him, grasping at the air. Pulling back his arm, a silver mirror appeared in his grasp. The man gazed at his reflection deeply for a few seconds before chuckling and tossing the mirror aside, though it followed the book in vanishing before it hit the ground. The man then turned north as his smile and laughter threatened to burst out.
"Finally, something interesting is happening again."
....................
Volcanos and molten pits spewed ash and sulphur into the air in a never-ending torrent of destruction and pain. Sharp shards of some strange back stone formed jagged paths that would cut and rip the soles of anyone who walked it. The sky was an angry red and it seemed to bleed in certain places, literally dripping a viscous liquid down to the earth at random intervals. Mountains shaped like jagged teeth rose from the scorched earth and pierced the heavens, cutting of one's view and forming a new horizon.
Within such an infernal land was a structure comprised solely of jet black stone, one that emanated an aura of dread and terror so great it dwarfed the rest of the environment. Massive skulls and bones that were the size of a house were in fitted along the walls of this structure, which was a mix between a mausoleum and a parthenon. At the front was a mural that stretched across the entire entrance: a bleeding eye and a twisting bundle of oozing limbs and mouths.
Within the fortress, the atmosphere was even more oppressive and would install anyone who entered with a sense of madness and a desire to vent all their emotions without regard for morals or the laws. Paintings, statues and suits of armour were stationed at regular intervals, and they seemed to slightly move and sway in the flickering shadows. Bloodstains were splattered random corners, still fresh, and a thick black ooze dripped from the ceilings. The carpet seemed to have been made from human hair, and rustled like something was moving under it.
At the centre of this eerie fortress was a set of high back thrones, one comprised of lacerated meat and flesh and the other seemed to be oil that had taken shape as a seat. These chairs were occupied by two men. The seat of flesh was currently occupied by a tall man with red hair and eyes that contained cruelty and madness difficult to fathom, and entirely impossible for a human to hold.
The other man had long black hair that reflected the same black as his chair. His face was covered by pure darkness that actively absorbed the light around him, and his body seemed to be in the process of merging with his chair. The features of this figure were impossible to discern, though his aura was no less intense and malicious than his partner's. He gave the feeling of looking at an abyss, one that would continuously swallow you and never let go. A single glance would cause your mind and heart to be assaulted by mad ravings, and your emotions to break apart and consume you.
These two men were as silent as the building they occupied, until the chairs they sat upon began to boil and writhe. The men themselves gave no reaction, but the fortress shuddered and groaned as it began to deform and break, only to rapidly reform back to normal. This repeated several times before suddenly stopping, and the thrones had similarly returned to normalcy. Yet their occupants had finally undergone a change.
"The current Abomination has begun to move, it seems. Shall I instruct my followers to intercept them?"
The man on the red throne questioned, his voice soft yet carrying an underlying malice. His words hung in the silent hall before the man on the black throne shifted, looking over at his companion.
"Do it in moderation. This one is different from the rest, and that existence had taken a personal interest in them. The same goes for the Orthodox Gods and those scavengers."
His voice was stronger and more authoritive than the man of red's, but hearing even a single syllable would cause a normal Ascender to start mutilating themselves, or straight up shatter their soul. Unlike the man of red, the man of black made no effort to hide his madness and negative aura.
"In moderation huh...Never though you would be the one to say that" the man of red laughed, but the man of black gave no response and simply leaned back into his throne, going still once more.
.............
In a land of no light, where time and space intercepted and clashed countless time in an instant, the forces of reality stirred. A pillar of pure, dazzling white light appeared in the dark void of this land, tearing apart the foulness and darkness that was deeply entrenched around it. As the light receded, it revealed a brilliant marble building, like a ziggurat or grand temple built to worship a Divine existence.
Within this temple was a throne of blinding light that lit up the whole structure to the point of making it impossible to even open your eyes without burning your very soul. This throne was occupied by a figure comprised of this light, a blurry silhouette with no features apart from a pair of eyes, which were strange and mystical.
This figure had golden scleral and no irises, instead possessing a circle of white light that illuminated all of reality before him. Behind his back was twenty-two gorgeous wings of differently coloured lights. They were folded around his body and throne, shifting softly and sinking in and out of existence, like an illusionary sea ebbing and flowing.
This figure of light gave the impression he had not moved for millennium and would continue to do so, but this was broken when the thrumming of a gong resounded in the hall, causing the figure to tilt his head upwards. After staring into space for several minutes, the figure got up off his chair and steadily walked down the hall. Behind him, the eleven pairs of wings fluttered and spread out, quickly encompassing the entire hall and then the temple.
In a flash of light brighter than the first, the ziggurat vanished from its spot and reappeared somewhere else in the darkness, burning it away in a heartbeat. The figure had since left the hall and appeared outside his temple, silently gazing off in the distance. After staying in that spot for an indefinite amount of time, the figure looked down to the ground, where another figure had arrived at some point in time.
The two looked at each other, the rings of light in the man's eyes reflecting a figure in a grey cloak which covered their entire body, and a fog that was streaming off them. The cloaked figure lifted their head and made contact with the winged man, revealed a smile and multiple twisting tentacles.
"Long time no see, Seraphic."