This is the world of Etherion, a vast realm watched over by two moons — a land both magnificent and perilous. Much of it remains unexplored, for its seas teem with ancient leviathans and its continents are ruled by races both noble and terrifying.
Among them lies Megapeiros, the largest continent, inhabited by Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Demons, Beasts and many known and unknown creatures. For centuries, these races waged war and forged uneasy peace, shaping the balance of the world.
But our story begins in the small domain to the far east of Atherland ,Zephoria — a land owned by the Ryanheart family, nobles of great renown who once served the Empire itself. Their estate, Castle Hart, stood proudly amidst the rain-swept hills. It was there that Rush was born — the first son of Lord and Lady Ryanheart.
Etherion thrived on mana, the very essence of life and power. Mages bent it to their will; warriors infused it into their bodies. Dragons and spirits drank it like air, and the strongest among them could shake the heavens.
When Rush was born, the flow of mana itself had trembled — as if the world had felt his arrival. Yet his family, unaware of his future, raised him as an ordinary child.
Rush grew up surrounded by warmth.
From the moment he could walk, the halls of Castle Hart seemed to follow his laughter. Servants found excuses to linger when he passed, guards softened their voices around him, and even the stern old Albert —who had served the Ryanhearts for a decade—could never quite bring himself to scold the boy.
Rush learned quickly—too quickly, some whispered.
He listened more than he spoke, his bright eyes always moving, always observing. By the age of four, he could remember the names of every guard on duty and greet them correctly, earning surprised smiles in return.
Despite his sharp mind, there was no arrogance in him.
He laughed freely, chased butterflies in the gardens, and often returned to the castle with mud on his boots and leaves tangled in his hair. He shared sweets with the kitchen children, listened eagerly to the guards' war stories, and clapped in delight whenever a maid performed even the simplest trick of mana.
People couldn't help but dote on him.
The Lady smiled more often because of him. The Lord, once known across the land for his stern presence , softened in ways few had ever seen—lifting Rush onto his shoulders, listening patiently to his endless questions, and watching him with a gaze filled not with pride, but quiet wonder.
To the world, Rush was simply a beloved noble child—clever, kind, and full of light.
No one noticed the way mana stirred ever so slightly when he laughed or questioned why animals lingered longer in his presence.
By the age of five, Rush's younger sister Elizabeth born, and the Ryanhearts' days filled with warmth and laughter.When she cried, it was Rush who reached her first, lifting little Liz into his arms until she calmed.
For now, Rush was happy.
And in Etherion, happiness was often the calm before the storm.
Time passed quietly — until Rush's eighth birthday.
That night, beneath the pale twin moons, Rush awoke from sleep to an unfamiliar whisper echoing through his mind.