For countless ages, peace reigned in Elyndor.
The angels sang in harmony across the skies. The celestial dragons soared above floating mountains. The mortals—humans, elves, and kindred races—prospered under Elarion's quiet, watching grace.
But all light casts a shadow… and beyond the Great Veil, something stirred.
In the farthest reaches of unformed space, where starlight refused to shine, a fracture split the unseen.
A whisper emerged.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't angry. It was… empty.
The Unshaped had awakened—an ancient presence from before Elarion, born of pure imbalance. It craved not dominion, but dissolution. It desired silence where song once lived, and cold where warmth bloomed.
It was not a being.It was the first Anti-Being.
One night, as the moons of Elyndor aligned, the Heavenly Flamekeeper, an angel named Lirael, looked beyond the stars and saw darkness staring back. Her wings dimmed.
Elarion, seated upon the Starthrone, heard the sorrow in the cosmos and rose.
"Balance falters. The Veil must be guarded."
He summoned his six Seraphim and the Elder Dragons. From their combined light, he forged the Aether Sigil—a radiant crest meant to seal the fracture.
But the shadow was faster.
It crept not from the outside in, but from the inside out.
Doubt.
Angels began questioning their purpose. Dragons dreamed of the void. And across the mortal worlds… nightmares bloomed.
The First War of the Veil was near.