"Hey, I've realized that nobody knows my origin. No more worries. Grab some popcorn and increase the volume to 85%. So let's start...
My name is Billy Morphine. Yeah, I know it's not a cool name, but my origin—or rather, my world—is something breathtaking.
The Land of Qush... the very land that I, Billy Beast, was tied to, the land that was once full of magic and wonder. It was lush, vibrant with life, and brimming with both natural and magical richness. The forests were vast, the rivers crystal-clear, and the mountains rose high, their peaks veiled in mist. But it was not just the land that was rich—it was the magic embedded within it. Magic flowed through the earth, the air, the water, and the very beings that lived there. Every tribe held a part of this magic, their powers intertwined with the land they called home.
There were five tribes that lived in harmony on this land, each one with their own unique abilities, each contributing to the balance of nature. The Avan tribe wielded the power of weapon magic, their warriors masters of fighting and battle. The Eresh tribe practiced shadow and dark magic, able to manipulate the unseen and strike from the darkness. The Inaru tribe, with their affinity for architectural magic, shaped the world around them, building grand cities and structures with a flick of their hand. The Oryth tribe were masters of beast taming and summoning, their connection to the creatures of the land giving them an unparalleled bond with nature. And then there was the Ulthar tribe, keepers of light magic, their aura of purity and radiance guiding and protecting the land.
For centuries, the tribes coexisted peacefully, their differences respected, their powers balanced. But that peace was shattered the day the Aerithians arrived.
The Aerithians were travelers, explorers from distant lands, seeking to claim the treasures of Qush. They saw the land's wealth—its resources, its magic—and they wanted to harness it all for their own industries. They believed that with the right materials, their civilization could be enriched, their technologies advanced. But they needed permission. And when the Aerithians sought access to the land's natural gifts, they were met with a firm, united response from the five tribes.
"We will not give you what belongs to us," the tribes declared. "Qush is not yours to take."
But the Aerithians were relentless. They knew they could not win through force alone, so they devised a cunning plan. They began to move through the land, subtly sowing seeds of division between the tribes, whispering rumors and doubt, questioning which of the tribes was the strongest. "Which of you is the strongest?" they asked, trying to pit them against each other.
It worked. The once united tribes began to bicker. Suspicion spread like wildfire, and the air grew thick with tension.
The Ulthar tribe, with their radiant power, were the first to act. They chased the Aerithians away, refusing to let them take anything from the land. "You have nothing to give us," they told the colonizers, their light magic shining bright, an impenetrable force. But the Aerithians had already set their plan in motion, and soon, war erupted between the five tribes.
The question that had been asked echoed in the hearts of the people: Who is the strongest?
At first, the Ulthar tribe seemed to stand alone as the strongest, their light magic radiating in the face of the Aerithian threat. But then, something darker began to surface.
In the midst of the conflict, Inaru, ever the architect, discovered something hidden deep within the land: a dark orb. It pulsed with malevolent energy, its power ancient and corrupted. When Inaru's tribe came into contact with it, they found that the orb bestowed upon them the power of dark magic—a power unlike anything they had known. With this new magic, they swept through their enemies, wiping out a quarter of their adversaries in a single strike.
But as the dark magic surged, the tribes began to question their path. In their hearts, they knew it was wrong. The magic was too dangerous. It was corrupting them, changing them. So, Inaru's tribe decided to stop, to reject the orb before it consumed them all.
Yet, the orb was not done. It called out, a dark voice that echoed through the air, calling upon the Eresh tribe. The Eresh, hungry for power and seduced by the orb's promises, stole it from Inaru. The Eresh tribe wielded the dark magic, and with it, they became a terrifying force, threatening to destroy everything in their path.
The other tribes, realizing the Eresh were beyond reason, united to stop them. The four tribes came together, setting aside their differences, and together they overpowered the Eresh. But the damage had already been done.
The orb was finally secured. The leaders of the Avan and Ulthar tribes met, their shared goal of restoring peace forging an alliance. Morphine, the leader of the Avan tribe, met Lysandra, the leader of the Ulthar tribe. In the midst of all the destruction, a love blossomed between them—a love that would forever change the course of history.
Together, the two tribes decided to lock away the dark orb in a museum, making sure it could never be used again. It was sealed, made inactive, a symbol of the price that had been paid.
With the power of the orb contained and the threat of the Eresh subdued, the Avan and Ulthar tribes united to rule the land together. The other tribes fell in line, and the Avan Kingdom was born.
It was under this kingdom that the Land of Qush began to rebuild. And it was under this kingdom that I, Billy Beast, would one day rise to defend. But that's a story for later, one I'll have to tell you when the time is right.
And ...that's where my story begins—at the birth of the kingdom. Because, you see, I am the product of that union. My true origin is tied to the magic of Qush, to the balance of the tribes, and to a history that has shaped everything I am.
So, how was I brought to this universe?
Let's see. To be continued...