Far beyond the humble fears of small villages and wandering travelers lay the vast, sprawling domains of the Seven Kingdoms. These were lands so different, so intricate in their power and purpose, that each might as well have been a universe unto itself. Yet they shared a single truth—something was shifting. A storm unseen was brewing on the horizon, its whispers carried on the winds.
But for now, the kingdoms thrived.
The Protector of the Earth Kingdom
The Earth Kingdom was a land where nature ruled supreme, its beauty untainted and eternal. Picture it: towering emerald forests stretching endlessly into the horizon, mountains like sentinels standing guard, their peaks brushing the clouds. Rivers, older than memory itself, wove through the land like shimmering veins, their songs soft and eternal.
And at the heart of this green paradise sat the Earth Kingdom's ruler, known only as the Protector—a name passed down through generations. Some said this ruler could command the earth itself, making mountains rise and valleys crumble at a whim. Others claimed they whispered secrets to the trees and learned ancient knowledge from the roots beneath their feet.
The people here lived with a reverence for the land, their villages nestled in harmony with the earth. Yet even in paradise, there were murmurs of unrest—rumors that the ground had started to tremble in ways it never had before. Something beneath the forests stirred, as if awakening from a deep slumber.
The Zabian Snake Kingdom
If the Earth Kingdom was harmony, then the Zabian Snake Kingdom was chaos wrapped in silk. This was a land of twisting shadows and whispered truths, where nothing was as it seemed, and no one smiled without reason.
By day, the capital was alive—markets bustling, golden serpents carved into towering palaces, their scales catching the light like jewels. But by night? Oh, by night, the true kingdom emerged. Streets lay cloaked in darkness, shadows slithered along walls like vipers, and betrayal slithered from door to door.
Their rulers—an ancient dynasty feared across the kingdoms—were known for their cunning minds and forked tongues. Stories claimed they could speak to snakes, weaving commands with soft words that sent serpents crawling into the beds of their enemies. Here, loyalty was fleeting, and trust could be bought… but never cheaply.
Whispers of rebellion simmered below the surface, but in a kingdom where even a whisper could cost you your life, no one dared speak too loudly.
The Mist Attacker Kingdom
And then there was the Mist Attacker Kingdom, a place that barely seemed real.
Its borders were invisible, lost to an eternal fog that refused to lift. Travelers who ventured too close would tell tales of hearing footsteps behind them—soft, almost playful—only to turn and find nothing but mist. Its warriors were a legend unto themselves, known as the Phantoms of the Mist. They struck without warning, emerging from the haze like ghosts, cutting down their targets, and disappearing again before a single scream could escape.
No one knew the faces of their leaders or their people. Some doubted they were even human. Yet the kingdom endured, cloaked in secrecy, untouched and untouchable.
And somewhere in that mist, something watched, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The Copenhagen Kingdom
Far from mist and shadow rose the Copenhagen Kingdom—a kingdom of brilliance, a shining jewel of technology and progress. Here, the sky was pierced by towering structures of steel and glass, and the hum of machines was as common as the chirping of birds elsewhere.
In the great halls of innovation, scholars and inventors worked tirelessly, creating wonders that made the other kingdoms look like relics of an older world. Flying machines, glittering cities, inventions that bordered on magic—Copenhagen was a land where the impossible became possible.
But beneath the gleam of invention, cracks were forming. The people whispered of tensions rising, of rulers pushing progress at the cost of peace. Not everything that glittered in Copenhagen was gold… and even the most perfect gears could one day snap.
The Dammam Kingdom
To the south lay the Dammam Kingdom, where the sun ruled the sky and deserts stretched endlessly, their sands shifting like an ocean of gold. It was a land of extremes, where the heat could steal a man's breath, but the wealth that flowed through the kingdom made it worth the sweat.
Here, traders were kings, and caravans moved across the dunes like rivers of riches. Markets overflowed with silks, spices, and gold—enough to make even the greediest man dream. But in a land where wealth flowed like water, greed was a shadow that never left.
The merchants grew fat, the rulers ever richer, and the people hungered for something more. Beneath the scorching sun, ambition burned hotter than the sand.
The Lions Kin Kingdom
And then there was the Lions Kin Kingdom—a land of warriors, of honor, and of ancient traditions. Its people were proud, their loyalty as unyielding as steel. Legends claimed their ruler sat upon a throne carved from the bones of enemies who had dared challenge them.
Here, strength was celebrated, and battles were a way of life. Songs were sung not of love or peace but of victories hard-won, of heroes who stood tall even in the face of death.
Yet beneath their bravado, the warriors felt it too—the winds of change, carrying something unfamiliar, something they could not fight with swords alone.
The Sangam Kingdom
Finally, there was the Sangam Kingdom—a haven of peace and enlightenment, where time seemed to slow and worries melted into the earth. The people here lived lives guided by wisdom and kindness, their ruler a figure of serenity and unmatched knowledge.
But even in this land of tranquility, the winds were stirring. For peace, like glass, could shatter with just one blow.
Seven kingdoms. Seven worlds. Seven fates hanging in delicate balance.
And as the shadows of change crept across the lands, each kingdom stood on the brink of something far greater than they had ever imagined.
For a storm was coming.
And it would spare no one.