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Fearing that the conflict would spread beyond human lands, the elves and dwarves convened a new Council of Vetharion. Under the shadow of the great millennial oak, a new pact was sealed. Magnus Valcorin, now king of the humans, and the new leader of the orcs agreed to a ceasefire.
Peace was restored in Dravaren, but it did not last. Ten years later, a new war erupted.
This time, the conflict did not come from the north but from the south. The dwarves, driven by an insatiable hunger for rare minerals, invaded the elven forest, drilling into their sacred lands in search of riches. What began as discreet incursions soon turned into an open offensive, and the elves, furious at the desecration of their home, responded in kind and declared war.
Known as the War of the Roots, the conflict spread throughout the forest. Ancient trees fell to fire and steel. The sacred soil of the elves was blackened by the blood of warriors on both sides. The sky, once illuminated by light filtering through lush canopies, became a shroud of ash and smoke.
For years, the confrontation persisted, with neither side yielding. However, the dwarves had a strategic advantage: unlike the elves, whose forces were limited, they possessed mines and a constant supply line from the south. Slowly, the elves began to lose ground.
At last, faced with irreversible devastation, the elves made a decision they had never considered before: to retreat. They abandoned a vast part of their forest, choosing to preserve what remained of their home rather than perish in a war they could no longer win.
The area taken by the dwarves became an unrecognizable territory. Where once stood majestic trees, now rose mine entrances and stone-carved fortifications. The crystal-clear streams were diverted to feed blazing forges, and the land, once alive and pulsing with magic, now echoed with the clang of hammers and underground explosions.
But the dwarves' ambition was not yet exhausted. When they decided to push further, expanding their mines beyond the newly conquered borders, it was Magnus Valcorin who intervened. The human king imposed his will upon the dwarves, and his ultimatum was clear: any attempt at expansion would be seen as an act of war against him.
Faced with the threat of another confrontation with the one who had destroyed the orcish forces years before, the dwarves withdrew, and thus the War of the Roots came to an end.
For the next two hundred years, Dravaren experienced a period of tense peace. The wounds of past wars were still visible, but the peoples, weary of bloodshed, maintained a fragile balance. New Councils of Vetharion were held to prevent conflicts, and the four species tried to sustain diplomatic relations, though marked by resentment.
Then, at the thirtieth Council of Vetharion, an unexpected event changed the course of the continent's history forever.
During the solemn gathering of the four royal families, the human prince and the elven princess met for the first time. It was a fleeting but powerful moment. Their eyes met beneath the oak's branches, and in that instant, something no one could have foreseen was born: a forbidden love.
Their feelings grew quickly, and it wasn't long before rumors spread. But what could have been merely an innocent romance sparked suspicion among the dwarves and the orcs. If humans and elves were drawing closer, what did that mean for the balance of power?
Fear turned into paranoia. The orcs, still bitter over their defeat in the War of Ashes, saw the possibility of a military alliance between humans and elves as a direct threat. The dwarves, wary that the elves might attempt to reclaim their lost lands, also began preparing for a possible conflict.
Tensions escalated until war became inevitable. When the rumors of the union between the prince and the princess were confirmed, the dwarves and orcs did not wait to discover their rivals' intentions. They marched to war, and the humans and elves, in turn, joined forces to defend themselves.
Thus began the Twilight War, the most devastating conflict Dravaren had ever seen. Unlike previous battles, all four species were involved—and this time, there would be no room for treaties.
This conflict was a nightmare that consumed Dravaren for three decades. Entire cities vanished, forests became cemeteries, and mountains crumbled under the weight of armies. The blood of thousands mixed with the rivers and the soil, staining them crimson.
No people emerged unscathed.
In the early years, humans and elves fought fiercely against the dwarves and orcs. Mages conjured storms of fire, essentialists tore through enemy ranks with devastating strikes, and armies marched without rest. But as the years passed, the war ceased to be about fear or alliances—it became an endless cycle of vengeance.
What had once been an innocent love turned into a curse. Over time, even humans and elves began to blame the prince and princess for their suffering. After all, if not for them, the war would never have begun. Voices of discontent grew louder, and dissatisfaction turned into fury. A mutiny spread through the allied camps, and the prince and princess were murdered by their own people.
Yet, even after their deaths, the war did not cease. Hatred had been sown too deeply. Then, thirty years after the first sword was drawn, something happened that no one could have foreseen.
From the shadows of war, the half-elf Damien, the Cursed Son, emerged.
Born from the union of the human prince and the elven princess, he was an anomaly, something that should never have existed. Within him pulsed both the mana of mages and the essence of essentialists —something no creature before him had ever possessed.
He did not come to rule, nor to bring peace. Damien came to destroy.
Driven by hatred and vengeance, he turned against all the peoples of Dravaren. To him, humans, elves, dwarves, and orcs were all guilty—guilty of his parents' massacre, of endless suffering, of the continent's ruin. He belonged to none of them—and for that, he decided to annihilate them all.
Alone, Damien became an unstoppable force. With his mana, he obliterated entire armies in an instant, bending the elements to his will.
With his essence, he fought like a god among mortals, enduring blows that would have slain kings and tearing warriors apart with his bare hands.
The orcs were the first to fall.
In less than a year, Damien had eradicated their entire race.