You have walked through the light of Aurevalis… through frost and bloom… through calm skies and rising dawns. But listen closely now. Because while beauty thrives in the open, shadows grow where no eyes ever wander. It began softly — as it always does. A whisper beneath the roots of Vernalia. A tremor under the silent snowfields of Frostreal. A flicker in the flames that warm the edge of Summer’s reach. Unseen. Unheard. Unwelcome. Yet unstoppable. For every world that breathes, another stirs in the dark below. And as the seasons turned — as they danced their ancient dance — something moved beneath them. Slowly. Patiently. As if waking from a long, bitter sleep. The Sisters did not know. Not yet. But the signs were there… in the trembling rivers, in the restless winds, in the nights that grew too long and too quiet. Something was feeding. Growing. Waiting. And when it finally opened its eyes… Aurevalis trembled. This… is the moment the light first felt cold. This… is when hope first cast a shadow. This is how it began when the shadows grew.
