At the dawn of existence, when the void still whispered secrets to the stars and time itself had yet to take form, there were the Calamities. These ten primordial Havens, ancient and unfathomable, were the architects of creation. They did not rule through dominion, for no life yet existed to be ruled; instead, they were the very essence of balance and chaos, the heartbeats of a universe still learning to breathe.
Each Calamity embodied a force of existence—Time, Void, Flame, Stone, Tempest, Tides, Growth, Decay, Light, and Shadow. For 50 billion years, they sculpted the formless void, weaving nebulae and scattering stars like seeds across an infinite garden. No force, no concept, no spark of imagination could rival them. They were the ultimate truth, eternal and unchallenged.
But eternity is never absolute.
From the farthest reaches of existence, beyond the realms the Calamities shaped, came The Tyrants. Their origins were shrouded in mystery, their forms incomprehensible. Unlike the Calamities, the Tyrants were not bound by the natural laws of creation; they defied them. Where the Calamities embodied the forces that gave order and structure to the universe, the Tyrants were chaos incarnate, unshackled and free.
They arrived without warning, their presence tearing through the fabric of reality like a blade through fragile silk. The Calamities, who had known only the harmony of their own existence, felt the first stirrings of fear. These new beings were not born of their designs, nor did they adhere to the laws the Calamities had woven into the cosmos. The Tyrants were anomalies, their power unlike anything the universe had ever known.
The first clash was not a battle but a test—a meeting of incomprehensible forces. The Calamities, with their millennia of wisdom and raw might, sought to understand the Tyrants, to bring them into the fold of creation. But the Tyrants had no desire for harmony. They sought only to challenge, to conquer, to exist without limitation.
And so began a conflict that would shape the fate of existence itself. The Calamities, once unrivaled, now faced a force that not only matched their might but threatened to surpass it. Each Tyrant was a being of impossible contradictions—chaos bound by form, destruction tempered by creativity. They were not forces of balance but catalysts of upheaval.
For the first time in 50 billion years, the Calamities knew struggle.
In the heart of the conflict, legends began to form. The Calamities, driven to their limits, discovered new depths of their power, new ways to wield the forces they had so long embodied. But the Tyrants were ever-adapting, their power growing with every clash, their presence bending reality itself.
And as the heavens shook and the cosmos trembled, one truth became clear: the era of unquestioned supremacy was over. The Calamities had been gods of creation, but now they faced beings who could unmake all they had built. The age of the Tyrants had begun, and the universe would never be the same.
But even the Tyrants' terrifying power wasn't enough to crush the unyielding will of the Calamities—not entirely. Though battered, scattered, and outnumbered, the Calamities were eternal forces, boundless and cunning. They were architects of existence, and their knowledge of reality far surpassed the brute chaos of their foes.
Kaelith Veyrith, the Ninth Calamity and Warden of Shadow, had always been an enigma among his kin. While others fought with overwhelming might or unyielding resolve, Kaelith relied on guile, strategy, and patience. He understood the truth of their predicament. This was not a battle that could be won through sheer force—not against creatures unbound by the laws of existence. Survival demanded a different path.
As the battle between Calamities and Tyrants raged across the cosmos, shattering stars and unraveling the very fabric of space, Kaelith made his decision. While his siblings hurled themselves into the fray, holding back the chaos with every ounce of their power, Kaelith vanished into the void.
He knew that fleeing would be seen as betrayal, even cowardice, but he also knew it was the only way to preserve their legacy. The Calamities had always been beings of creation, not destruction, and Kaelith sought a way to turn the tides—not through confrontation but through subversion.
In the depths of the universe, where light and time were meaningless, Kaelith tore open a rift in reality, weaving his essence into the fabric of creation itself. He cast his gaze upon a world untouched by the war, a fledgling planet teeming with potential. Its inhabitants were fragile
Years later, on a quiet, sunlit beach, a small boy named Starlight Veyran played by the water's edge. He was the cherished son of Selvara Deywin, the fierce warrior with a past shrouded in mystery, and Thalin Veyran, a steadfast protector and hunter.
Star's golden laughter rang out as the waves lapped at his feet, his tiny hands grasping at shells scattered across the shore. Though his parents watched from a distance, their hearts warm with love, an air of mystery surrounded the boy. For within him lay a spark of something ancient—a light untainted by the turmoil of the world, yet somehow tied to its deepest secrets.
To all who saw him, Star appeared to be an ordinary child. But those who looked closer would see glimpses of something far greater: his luminous eyes that seemed to hold the vastness of the stars, and the way the wind seemed to bend and dance around him, as if the universe itself recognized his significance.
In the grand hall of the highest corridor, where the walls shimmered with the remnants of forgotten stars, Sylith, the Fourth Calamity and Mistress of Tempests, strode forward. Each step echoed with purpose, her presence commanding the attention of all who had gathered.
"We've found him," Sylith declared, her voice cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. "We've found Kaelith."
As she reached the end of the vast obsidian table, she lowered herself into the high-backed chair, her gaze sharp and unwavering. The other Calamities shifted, their expressions unreadable, though a ripple of tension coursed through the room.
"Where is he, then?" Zeryn, the First Calamity and Keeper of Time, asked from his seat at the head of the table. His voice, deep and steady, carried an authority born of eons.
Sylith met his gaze, her stormy eyes reflecting a flicker of hesitation before hardening once more. "Hidden. Shielded within the mortal plane. But he cannot stay concealed forever."
On the bleach star continued to play on the sand being patiently building his tower when his mother ran over to him and grab him before the terrible incident one that would scare star for life
Five years had passed, and the once-timid boy playing on the beach had grown into a focused and determined young apprentice. Star sat cross-legged in the center of the training hall, his hands hovering over a flickering orb of flame that danced in his palms. The room was quiet save for the crackle of fire, the other children having long since retreated to play outside.
From the doorway, Annalicia, the academy's strict yet compassionate instructor, watched him with an unreadable expression. It was where she usually sat, observing her students from a distance, but with Star, she lingered longer than usual. There was something about him—something extraordinary.
Most students struggled with fire magic, their flames wild and unpredictable, often sputtering out or flaring beyond control. But for Star, it was different. The flames obeyed him as if they recognized him. They flowed through his fingertips with an ease that defied logic, twisting and shaping into intricate forms without the slightest effort.
It wasn't just skill; it was as if the fire itself wanted him to master it, bending to his will like a loyal companion. Annalicia had never seen anything like it. She had trained dozens of students over the years, many gifted in their own ways, but none had ever shown this level of natural affinity.
Star's brow furrowed in concentration as he molded the fire into the shape of a small phoenix, its wings spreading wide before it burst into a shower of embers. He didn't flinch; instead, he exhaled slowly, his eyes fixed on the lingering sparks.
Annalicia's heart stirred with a mix of pride and unease. She couldn't deny his talent, but there was an intensity to him that set him apart—not just his focus, but the quiet, unshakable connection he seemed to have with the element. It was as if the fire wasn't just a tool to him; it was a part of him.
Her hand tightened on the edge of the doorframe. She had seen enough to know that such power often came with a cost. Whatever destiny awaited Star, it would not be an ordinary one. For now, she would let him train, let him discover the boundaries of his gift. But deep down, she knew that the fire within him was more than magic—it was a spark of something far greater, and far more dangerous.
Later that day, in the sprawling field where the fifth graders often gathered, the students prepared for another round of team battles. The air buzzed with excitement as groups assembled, each team eager to prove their strength. Among them stood a quartet who were all too familiar with each other: Star, Takari, Kiko, and Pest.
These four were inseparable, their bond forged through countless hours of shared failures, quiet victories, and stubborn determination. Though their grades often lingered in the middle of the pack—never dazzling, yet never abysmal—they were known across the academy by an unflattering nickname: The Ordinaries.
But Star and his friends were anything but ordinary.
Kiko and Pest were unparalleled in hand-to-hand combat, their speed and agility outshining even the academy's top duelists. Pest was a wiry blur of motion, his strikes precise and relentless, while Kiko's movements were graceful yet explosive, her every attack a blend of raw power and calculated finesse.
Then there was Takari, the team's brain. While others rushed headlong into battle, Takari remained calm, reading the battlefield like a game board. His strategies, though unconventional, had an uncanny way of turning even the most hopeless scenarios into narrow victories.
And Star—quiet, focused Star—was the team's wildcard. Though his magical prowess had yet to shine in their battles, there was a certain unspoken confidence about him, a spark in his eyes that hinted at untapped potential.
As the teams lined up, the murmurs began, as they always did.
"Here come the Ordinaries," one boy snickered, loud enough for the group to hear.
"They never win big," "but they never lose bad either," another chimed in.
The insults rolled off them like water on stone. They had heard it all before, and it didn't matter. What the others failed to understand was that their strength wasn't in overwhelming power or perfect grades—it was in their ability to adapt, to endure, and to find ways to challenge even the strongest opponents.
As the starting bell rang, the battlefield erupted into chaos. Teams clashed, spells flew, and the sounds of shouting and clashing echoed through the field. But Takari's calm voice cut through the noise.
"Star, you're with Kiko on the flank. Pest, stay with me at the center. Watch for openings," he said, his sharp eyes scanning their opponents' movements.
Star nodded, his pulse steady as he fell into position. As he cast his first spell, a flicker of fire danced across his palms—a fire that felt alive, eager, and ready to burn brighter than ever before.
They didn't dominate the battlefield, not yet. But as the match progressed, it became clear to anyone watching that The Ordinaries were far more formidable than their name suggested. And though victory wasn't always guaranteed, the spark within each of them ensured they were never to be underestimated.
"I don't wanna lose this time" star exclaimed hitting another kid eliminating him from the game "we need to find a good hiding place for now there's to many people" takari warned normal 5th grade classrooms have less then 15 kids but this classroom held over 200 5th graders and 120 4th graders who could withstand competing against the other students just ass star was catching up a team surrounded him this was t any regular team this team consisted of the academies best students.
1.Alaric Vaelthorne – Known as The Arcane Prodigy, Alaric is a master of precision magic, effortlessly weaving complex spells that leave opponents in awe. His calm demeanor and unmatched intellect make him a natural leader among the academy's elite.
2. Celyra Dawnforge – Dubbed The Unyielding Blade, Celyra is a peerless swordswoman whose mastery of both weaponry and enhancement magic makes her an unstoppable force on the battlefield. Her fiery determination has earned her both admiration and fear.
3. Zereth Kaenrad – Often called The Shadow Walker, Zereth excels in stealth and illusion magic. His uncanny ability to strike from the shadows and evade detection makes him a dangerous opponent and a respected tactician.
4. Elys Vorynith – Known as The Tempest's Heir, Elys wields elemental magic with a ferocity that mirrors a raging storm. Her unparalleled control over wind and lightning makes her a devastating presence in combat, and her charisma inspires loyalty among her peers.