Illia

The world was built upon a few, simple pillars that each respective realm followed religiously, or so the Elders said.

Whether it was by chance or by their own design, the realms abided by these foundations and grew side by side with little conflict and interaction. But, as all things in life do, it went very wrong very quickly as the realms fell into their own chaos.

Netherborn creatures were born of hellfire and rotting flesh, and it showed with the slow limbo their gates often adopted. Corruption was the core of such beings. It left much to be desired in personality and culture. Blood sacrifices became the norm. That surprised no one. Lava rained from the sky, and it was hence known as an inhabitable world for corrupted souls.

From those ashes, the Wither rose to take control of the realm of fire.

Endborn mobs were the exact opposite of their fiery cousins and instead inherited the coolness of water, despite being highly hydro intolerant. Always appearing with calmness on their face and stoic darkness in their stance, such beings were banished to the voided lands of eternal night. It suited them well.

Like a leech in the pond water, a serpent lurked below rippling waves hoping to claim the galaxy as Her own.

[Continued in "A Guiding Light"]

• "There’s nothing wrong with these flowers. No use in trying to fix something that isn’t broken just because they are unashamedly themselves and we have decided that that is not good enough."
• “Peace breeds complacency, is it?”
• “Money! My uncle!” cried Jane, “what do you mean, sir?”
• “If you are looking for my master, ma’am, he is walking towards the little copse.”
• “I mean, that no man in his senses would marry Lydia on so slight a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am gone.”