The Chronicle of Dark Earth: Book One

PROLOGUE: From the Murk

"For the longest time, I'd imagine it seemed as though all life would persist in eternal harmony, —but sentience had proven to be a naive and poorly thought out gift. Now, we as civilized beings struggle to compromise, even temporarily, without shedding each other's blood."

~ Bendune the Philosopher, Grand Magus of Reidial circa 120 — 350 years P.D.W (Post-Dimensional War)

      A world built from infinite structure, teeming with endless stretches of vibrant, beautiful terrain, and an abundance of wandering, aimless mystical entities, the Fifth Realm, —given many names by its future populations, was once an ageless, lightless plain of barren land stretching for untold distances in all directions. One could even say that the realm went on forever, and that the longer a being traveled, the more dissonant, unforgiving and frightening it would become.

      Of course, it wouldn't remain this way, as the first beings to declare ownership of the land were eager to show; what was once a shadowy dustbowl became a fertile and unique, albeit constantly unstable setting. These beings were known as the Primordial Energies: life and power given form; they were practically mindless and instinctive entities born simply to create, —and so create they did.

      For countless aeons, the entire world was nurtured by these amorphous, nigh-omnipresent energies; massive trees, fungi, and mountains grew from the once void-like desert, giving it shape and character. Across these biomes, many creatures would evolve and thrive, with some species even developing a sentient intellect. Deep, radiant blue oceans were excavated and filled in, given special properties that could support aquatic life; the skies were given clouds to rain upon the land and provide sustenance for all living things.

From here well into the foreseeable future, the energies went into a state of dormancy, hibernating and disappearing amongst their creations.

All was well, until one day everything went silent, as if lulling itself into a deep slumber, —and then suddenly roaring into a mountain-shattering crescendo of horrid aggression, as crimson god-lightning tore open a gaping, maw-like gash in the sky....