A long time ago, when the Dragon Emperor still reigned, a hero was born blessed with knowledge and skill to wield magic, Elian Gilsorths was his name. Together with his friend, Samuel and the red dragon Tessarion, they overthrew and defeated the Tyrant and brought the peace back to the continent of Osloris. Years later the three heroes built the first city from the ashes of the emperor’s throne and called it Dragon’s End. After years of building and managing the first city, Elian Gilsorths decided to step down as one of the leaders and focused on further study of magic. After many years had passed since his departure, rumors had spread that on his final days, he created his magnum opus, his grimoire, a book compiled of numerous spells so powerful that they can bring a change in the world that no one can ever imagine. No one knows the location of the book, only his closest disciples have the knowledge, yet all of them all are long since gone.

“This is terrible”

Feeling the cold hard ground against his face, he realized that he had been catapulted miles away from his original position, face flat unto the ground. All his strength left him; all he had felt through his body was pain. Coughing violently, he vomited a bit of blood painting his hand with crimson red liquid.  With blurred vision he could see the room was redecorated by the explosion with rocks and fire. Suddenly, he felt his body shudder as a thought instantly crossed his mind.

"My friends? Where?"

An understanding soon was realized; it seemed that they are faced with what was called a dire situation. As soon as he realized it, a muffled sound was heard and his consciousness wandered around the room. In front of his eyes were black boots stepping, no, more like running toward his position slowly making its appearance clearer. Someone's coming. And that someone most likely caused the explosion. But even so, he did not think of looking at the face. Something like that did not matter. What he only wished was for his friend to be safe.

"......El?"

Finally he can hear clearer, no more ringing of a bell. He remembered. To hear that voice..., to be able to hear that voice.

"....."

A warm touched was felt from his shoulder, and the culprit was once again remembered - a body was laid next to him. And there was his hand, stretched out loosely. The pale hand that fell cold entwined with my blood covered hand, and he thought he felt its faintly moving fingers squeeze back. Holding onto his fading consciousness, he tried to get up by holding onto the stranger forcefully getting his body up.

 "I .... Will -"

In the next instant, He - El Towers - lost his life.