Genesis EditNot so long ago, the Golden Phoenix sailed the black ocean seeking for radiant stars to devour with his flame. For each light that was extinguished, the universe grew darker, yet the phoenix’s fire shone brighter and more beautiful than ever seen before. One by one the stars in the sky vanished under his luminous red nova, proving no challenge against the mighty blaze.
One day, or should I say one moment in the timeless space, near a hollow from which no light escaped, the phoenix found a dimly lit world of alluring purple glow. "That precious amethyst would look perfect on my longest feather”, he thought.
Danger ebbed and flowed as the terrible fire surrounded the lone star, and from it the Obsidian Raven sprung with open wings and an ominous shriek: “Take thy form from off my door! Get thee back to the stellar sea! Leave my loneliness unbroken, and leave no red or gold plume as a token.”
Yet the phoenix did not flicker, for his heart was not so fickle. His flames now had a redder glow and they rose like the stellar wind from a thousand empyreal thrones. To no avail the raven struggled, finding that her wings of night and no amount of shadows could eclipse that light. Her world was ablaze, clamouring to the mercy of the searing, deaf, and frantic fire of the Golden Phoenix, Sol Invictus.
It was at the time of the ending, when the dawn of death lit the skyline like a merciless flare, that the Obsidian Raven shrouded itself in the ashes of its burning world and made one last strike. The Golden Phoenix was caught off guard, for those black wings swooped down not against him, but into the gemmed egg of gold he held between his talons, which was his world.
Within the depths of the sea the raven hid, and all the waters became black as a starless night. Poisoned by the ashes, the phoenix’s blood stained the skies and condemned them to a perpetual red sunset. The soil became the chessboard of divinities, the place where mortal blood strove for the survival of the world, or in the chaos attempted to reach for that which rightfully belonged to the gods.
The Stargazers, the keepers of the world, knew that doom loomed near. They all wanted to share salvation, but the path to it had been lost in the deep shades the raven had brought. Some wanted to stand alone, others beside the Golden Phoenix, and some wanted to release the Pearl Heron, and they did. With two worlds at the brink of absolute destruction, and three High Gods on war, a stalemate descended upon them, for the stakes were too high.
It was then that Nyxheim came to be, the remains of three worlds joined into one by the spell of rebirth of the Golden Phoenix. A trinity of High Gods, Kyrieth the Sun God, Aria the Moon Goddess, and Raven the Goddess of the Twilight Skies came to be at peace by a frail treaty, and each drew the borders of their domain on equal share. Yet there is no friendship between them, and wise men say that in Nyxheim they make their moves in secret, aligning their mortal pieces in hopes of tipping the balance on their favour. “One God, and one world, indivisible,” that is the hope of the faithful, and the heathens, those on the losing side, shall vanish in the eternal silence of the void.-- Royal Seal 21:29, July 14, 2013 (UTC)