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The expanse stretched endlessly in every direction—a boundless plane of pristine white that seemed to exist beyond the concept of horizon. No sun cast shadows here, yet somehow everything was illuminated with a soft, ethereal glow. The silence was profound, broken only by the whisper of wind that carried no scent, no temperature, simply presence.
In the distance, three figures sat motionless atop what appeared to be simple stone outcroppings—the only features marring the perfect emptiness of this realm. They shared an unmistakable resemblance, as if carved from the same divine template. Their hair flowed in the gentle breeze, and their robes rippled with movements that seemed both natural and eternal.
King Arion stood alone in this impossible space, his usual regal bearing somehow diminished by the sheer vastness surrounding him. In his hand, he clutched a piece of parchment so ancient that its edges had begun to fray, yet the text at its top remained clearly legible in flowing script:
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃
A smile of triumph crossed Arion's face. "It worked," he breathed, his voice barely disturbing the silence. "This is it..."
He held the parchment closer, studying the faded instructions that had brought him to this place. "All I have to do is follow the rest of these directions and that'll be it..."
According to the ancient text, the next step required meditation in this sacred space. Arion began scanning for an appropriate location, but his attention was immediately drawn to the three figures in the distance. Something about their presence felt deeply wrong—not malevolent, but misplaced.
How odd, he thought, for rocks to be sitting out in the open like that with no other terrain surrounding them.
Curiosity overrode caution, and Arion began walking toward the trio. With each step, the white expanse seemed to stretch further, as if distance itself were fluid in this realm. Yet gradually, he drew closer—and with proximity came a sensation that stopped him cold.
The aura emanating from those three figures was achingly familiar. Recognition dawned slowly, then all at once, filling him with impossible understanding.
"It can't be," King Arion thought, his steps faltering. "They should be on the Other Side..."
1,500 Years Before the Second Jewel War
The cosmic event known as Eclipse Xero had torn through the fabric of reality itself, its aftermath giving birth to two opposing realms. Like sides of a coin, these twin domains came into existence—each vast enough to contain entire cosmologies.
On one side materialized the Land of Spade, with its sprawling continents and the Five Universes that would one day witness the rise and fall of countless civilizations. But the eclipse's power had been too great for a single creation.
On the opposite side, as if reflected through some cosmic mirror, formed the Kingdom of Solara—formally known as "The Other Side." This realm possessed its own mainland that mirrored the Land of Spade's geography, yet inverted in ways both subtle and profound. Like its counterpart, Solara hosted five universes of its own, each teeming with potential and mystery.
From the cosmic dust and divine energy that settled in these new realms, various clans emerged. Most struggled to comprehend their place in this newly formed existence, but one clan rose above all others—the Clan of Solara, for whom the entire kingdom would eventually be named.
What set the Clan of Solara apart was their divine inheritance. Members weren't merely born with magical abilities—they emerged into the world carrying fragments of Eclipse Xero's power itself. Each individual manifested god-like abilities unique to them alone, as if the universe itself were experimenting with different expressions of ultimate power.
For centuries, the clan grew in strength and wisdom, their influence spreading across The Other Side like ripples in a cosmic pond. Then, approximately 1,000 years before the Second Jewel War, their expansion led them to make a discovery that would change everything.
In the very center of The Other Side—the point most distant from the Land of Spade—they found the Power of Xero: remnants of the cosmic eclipse that had birthed their realm. This wasn't merely residual energy, but Eclipse Xero's essence itself, crystallized into pure, manipulable force.
The clan's greatest minds worked to harness this primordial power, ultimately using it to forge nine artifacts of unimaginable might—the original Nine Jewels. Each jewel contained a fragment of creation's power, capable of reshaping reality according to its wielder's will.
It was during this pivotal era that Archanos led the Clan of Solara, facing a decision that would echo through millennia. The weight of wielding creation's power itself had forced upon him a terrible choice—one whose consequences were still unfolding across the cosmos.
And it was in this time of cosmic significance that a child was born who would one day become legend: Silearza "Noira" Solara, heir to powers that bridged the gap between mortal ambition and divine authority.
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