Why, hello there, curious stranger. I’d like to congratulate you on finding this library; not many have before. I remain hidden for a reason, you know.

Hm? You look afraid. That was not a threat, inquisitive one. I was merely expressing my genuine surprise.

Fine, fine. Alright. I can see that this conversation isn’t going anywhere. Tell me, what is it that you want to know?

Oh! The origin story of the six kingdoms? Of course. That one’s easy, really. You could have found that story anywhere, it’s popular. 

…oh. You would like to know what happened with the little Demon King? All his intricate little plans and schemes?

Well. I’m sure you could figure it out on your own sooner or later. You’re intelligent, I can tell.

But, yes, alright. I can tell you a bit, if you’d really like to know.

Settle down and listen closely; I will only tell this story once, okay? Then you must go.

Long, long ago…

Long, long ago, the world lay in turmoil. But the people in this world were unaware.

Demons ruled the land silently, their devious deeds hidden in the shadows of the radiant puppet queen. Elves bowed their heads to her, grateful for what her rule signified for them, forgetting to fear the demons of old. So many years had passed, and hadn’t the royal family vanquished them once and for all?

This, of course, was a lie. The Demon Queen, Crysaeris, still pulled the strings, biding her time quietly, searching for the crystals that would be the key to the entrance of the secret palace that contained thrones of incredible power. She began to make her move, unraveling hints and dead ends until she began to collect those crystals.

But the angels of old, sensing that action had to be taken, chose gods to take up their legacy.

These gods, picked carefully for their heroic traits or their fierce desire to do what was right or simply just because their angels took an unlikely liking to them, were sent to put an end to the rule of the demons once and for all.

Crysaeris fought long and hard to keep hold of those powerful crystals. In the end, two gods and one mortal sacrificed their lives to seal the Demon Queen away. They were just drops in the vast number of those killed by the demonic ruler. 

With hardly any time for a proper burial for their friends, the gods ascended the golden steps to claim the thrones for themselves. They had much work to do to set the world back into equilibrium, leaving the shattered crystal pieces behind. Only one god understands what these crystals can do, but he leaves them behind regardless. The gods cannot do everything for the ones left on earth, after all.

On the surface, a week after the gods ascend, a woman with a newborn passes by, searching for some place to stay. She comes across the palace, which is ruined by the battle, but she doesn’t care. She’s too exhausted from weeks of running and hiding. She falls asleep on the last intact thing, the bottom of the steps; the top has long since disappeared, hiding the gods’ palace from the mortal elves below.

This woman is Oleander, one of the last elves on the planet with powers. She is the last of the Star Descendant line and the sister of the mortal, Cepheus, killed in the battle against Crysaeris, though she does not know yet that he is gone. 

When the woman wakes up, she feels stronger than ever, holding her newborn to her chest. Refreshed, she notices finally the crystal shards floating around her, glowing softly with power.

Sensing something in the crystals, she sets to the work of reassembling them. When she clicks the last piece, the center, into place, each section glows with a moving symbol. 

In the northern piece, a pattern of icicles glows an eerie white-blue. The patterns shift and move, floating and bumping into each other. Telekinesis. 

In the south, a fire glows red, flickering images of the future burning within. Clairvoyance.

To the west, purple winds swirl, taking the shape of a snarling dragon, then a striking snake, then a soft rabbit, and back again. Illusions. 

In the east, two pieces; 

A tangled knot of vines, soothing and calm to touch, a glossy green. The baby in her arms goes quieter, cooing happily. Emotion manipulation. 

A smaller chip, vibrant blue, the water forming different, solid shapes at will, their forms moving around the piece. Shape-shifting. 

The center piece, the one still pressed against her fingers, is the last one to light up. It is a star, resting in the curve of the crescent moon, nestled inside the sun, wrapped gently and protectively with shifting shadows. It remains clear, the light shining through casting a cascading rainbow of colors on her face. 

She hears a soft, clear voice. It speaks five words. I entrust this to you. 

Oleander knows what she must do. For her child. For the future generations. 

She begins to build. 

Three hundred years later, the kingdoms stand. Six in total, all with their unique powers and paths. Each kingdom’s name was picked by the gods themselves and whispered into the ears of the elven royals; Astania for air, Etophic for earth, Iswarn for ice, Werfinn for water, Farwic for fire, and Celcor for the kingdom in the center. Five of elements and ideas, one in the center woven of magic and the path of gods. There, elves with no heritage can learn to create their own place in the world, blessed by the moon goddess and the shadow goddess.

The six crystals, enchanted by the gods and imbued with powers unknown, are the source of the elven magic. With the help of Oleander, the elves have created their own life on their cluster of islands on the planet known as Evosen.

Miles away, in the Isles of the Dark, King Erebus mourns. 

No one has died, not yet. But, as he stares out the window, he feels that a part of himself may have. 

At his feet, a huge black wolf sits, his massive head resting on Erebus’ lap. Absently, he strokes his silky fur. The creature, better known as Astaroth, lets out a soft sigh of appreciation. 

Yes, Erebus is well aware of the risks of his plan. Ridding the world of their powers? Removing the royals from their thrones? Allowing his people, descended from demons, cursed and hated by the elves, to interact with the outside world? To reveal that the demons still live, once again, and imperil his subjects? There is much that could go wrong with his plan, but he knows it must be done.

Bearing the weight of the crown has taught Erebus how unbearable it truly is. He is doing this for them, and he is doing this for himself. 

All he ever wanted, really, was to be free.

He reaches up, touching the sharp point of his crown with his finger. It stings, forcing him into motion.

Erebus stands finally. Astaroth sits up, mismatched gold and red eyes carefully curious.

“Come, Astaroth. We have much work to do.”