More than two millenia of peace and stability came to a sudden end with the cataclysmic reshaping of the world as humanity and all the other living creatures on the planet entered a peaceful slumber, oblivious to the impending death that came for most of them.
By the time people awoke from sleep, entire continents have drifted across the seas to form colossal land masses, populous nations disappeared without a trace as they were devoured by the ground underneath or set ablaze in a vast infernal stream of molten rock. Soaring mountains emerged from low flatlands to touch the skies and new lakes and rivers formed to serve as basins of life for those fortunate enough to survive.
Located to the northernmost region, Empire's capital, a now desolate land known as the Crown region, sprawled for thousands of kilometers. It was the only area in the world that remained rooted in its location. In the center of the ancient metropolis was the colossal castle of the Emperor — its towering spires and monumental keep gleamed in the rays of the eternal twilight sun. Written records of its existence vividly described the beauty of the golden clouds against the backdrop of its lavender sky. Unfortunately, such a vision only exists in the memory and imagination of the people after the cataclysm.
Although no one has been able to venture past the fiery rivers of the Eldur Band despite numerous expeditions that ended in disaster, there were few reports about seeing the canopy of an enormous tree from a great distance.
The findings from the explorers suggested that the trunk alone was approximately a hundred kilometers wide and its branches spread outwards for thousands more. The elongated shadows of the Titanic existence would cast from the light of the twilight sun could possibly cover the entirety of the Crown.
The unfathomable size alone made most people dismiss such information as mere fantasies of men who sought undeserved recognition. Still, such a notion inspired plenty of stories for children and some even likened the tree to the mythical Yggdrasil, which eventually became its commonplace name over the decades.
An ocean band known as the Jormun River ran along the world's equator, encircling the planet, and stretched for thousands of kilometers.
The majority of human settlements and cities are located in the Verdant Band north of the Jormun and bordered by the Muspel Desert Band above its location on the map.
The Bitfrost bridge, which was situated in a different continent before the land shifted, stood at the edge of the northern bank. However, despite its massive size and length, it only reached halfway through the Jormun. The southernmost section of the Bitfrost became a bustling port town for those daring enough to cross the waters or launch their airships to brave the winged monstrosities patrolling the skies.
To the south of the great ocean are the minor settlements embroiled in constant conflicts and instability. The region band became known as Niflheim due to its chaotic and ununified governance. New wars were declared between Jarls as often as the weather changes and new Dominion lines were drawn every few months at the conclusion of the bloody battles.
Unlike the Verdant Band, resources in Niflheim weren't as abundant. The region's colder climate and smaller developed land space meant its agricultural prospects weren't as bright as its Northern counterparts'.
The murky forests and swamplands surrounding the inhabited areas were infested with vile creatures that may lay waste to their towns if disturbed. This made expansion of territory an even more arduous task than taking over an already established one even if it meant prying the deeds off their dead hands.
South of Niflheim are the row of snow-capped mountains encircling the globe and separating the region from the inhospitable land engulfed in an endless onslaught of blizzard winds. Whatever creatures manage to thrive beyond those mountains were surely terrifying enough that venturing across the mountains was strictly forbidden for fear of leading them back to human settlements.
The cataclysm also regressed humanity's technological advancements. The population was culled off to less than five percent, most of the infrastructure destroyed or simply vanished, and digital records were wiped out. Electricity, which was readily available to most people before, became a very finite resource. Generating and storing energy itself wasn't a huge problem for powerful domains, however, doing so invited a new source of mortal danger that did not exist before.
Although dangerous wild creatures roamed the planet even before the cataclysm, it was only after that new powerful beings called Ether Beasts came into existence. Their name originated from their ethereal appearance due to the luminous smoke-like aura emanating from their bodies. Most were powerful enough to fight against entire groups of seasoned hunters, some were capable of decimating entire towns and killing Einic knights, but a few of these monsters were considered natural calamities that no amount of resistance could divert, let alone defeat.
The town of Dalvik, once famous for its massive water dam which generated enough electricity to power neighboring cities and beyond, was wiped off the map when a single Ether Beast emerged from the Jormun. Later, it was discovered that the catastrophy was a result of the creature being enticed by the large stores of energy.
Since then, every domain enacted measures to limit the use of electricity and switched to the use of rare Odic crystals collected from ether beast cores or mining caves.
The location of these natural resources are closely guarded secrets of the Major Domus and were largely the reason for their uncontested power and influence.
All noble houses in the Verdant Band have Einic ancestry and alliances between them are forged through marriages in most cases. Any Ein found born outside of these established families are sentenced to exile and further questioning to ascertain which member of the Jarl society committed the treasonous act of siring a commoner offspring. Whatever happens to those unfortunate children after are known only to the upper echelons of the ruling nobles.
Most speculate a simple execution, others believe they are sent off to the dreadful shores of Niflheim, others gossip about secret adoptions into Jarl vassal houses.
The majority of Ein, even amongst those in noble houses, never undergo Awakening and go through life as a normal human.
For the Jarls, being a Dormant is considered an awful fate since only those with Awakened abilities are given privilege to rule as head of their family while the rest are delegated menial tasks of running minor businesses or being married off as a bargaining chips to strengthen or form new alliances.
For the commoners, however, finding out one day that they have Ein bloodline after Awakening is a horrific curse that could only bring about their demise.