Chapter 1: Fallen.
~Domain of the Celeste.
~Mortal Realm.
~Primordial Carp Nation.
~YinYang City.
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The Domain of the Celestes—known throughout the Mortal Realm for its divine anomalies—marked the eighth year in its great celestial cycle with the Festival of Bright Darkness. This decade-spanning calendar was unlike any other, forged in a forgotten age, each year named after it's elemental phenomena that defied mortal understanding.
First came the Year of Flaming Fire, during such a year, crimson blazing clouds covered the make the temperature hot all year round. There was also a rare phenomenon when it rained flaming coals, but this usually occurred at the end of the year, especially during the last seven days when the year's phenomenon were the most intense.
Then came the Year of Essencen. A golden mist would blurt out the sky, leaving the world beneath dreary and even when sun rays pierced through it dense mist it would take on a silver sheen. This silver sun ray was rumoured to possess petrifying ability. Miners were the most fond of this year as the rate of unearthing high quality ore was very high.
The Year of Yellow Earth came next, when dust devils that connected the heavens and earth was a common event. Farmers hated this year the most as the extreme dry conditions made hunger and drought a sure thing.
The Year of Wood followed, mystical floras bloomed in the heavens with no visible stem upholding them these strange flowers also couldn't be reached no matter how one tried. Needles to mention that this year came with boundless harvest.
The Year of Waters, the sky would become a boundless ocean pouring rain, snow and ice relentlessly. It is basically an all year winter.
The Year of Screaming Lightnings, furious thunderstorms ruled the sky as fierce bolt ravaged all accompanied with a shrike like thunder, hence it's moniker.
The Year of Tempest Winds, savage winds ruled accompanied by terrifying tornado that could appear at any time of the day and could last for several days on a stretch.
But then came the final three years—most mysterious, revered, and feared.
The Year of Vast Darkness: An entire year cloaked in unbroken night, the only source of light being the dancing auroras in the sky.
The Year of Lights: Endless daylights accompanied by frequent eclipses.
And then... the Tenth Year—whispered only as the Year of the Nameless.
During this Nameless Year, no celestial events marred the sky. No flames nor wind. Nothing changed. And yet, an invisible pressure blanketed the land, growing more suffocating as the year ends. The strong felt small but the weak felt nothing. Many whispered of something watching… waiting.
All ten years had one thing in common– the last seven days of the year was when their phenomenons peaked.
....
In the heart of YinYang City, capital of the venerable Primordial Carp Nation, located at the center of the Domain of the Celeste, the streets pulsed with color and life. Luminance stones, embedded into ancient stone lanterns, glowed softly in hues of violet, jade, amber, and sapphire. Their ethereal light painted the cobbled roads in a dreamlike haze as melodious tunes drifted from strings and flutes, weaving together joy and reverence in every note.
Children danced with lotus lanterns clutched in their small hands. Elders smiled, sharing tales of past festivals. Lovers strolled under the multi-colored glow, whispering sweet promises to each other under the watchful stars.
Tonight, the people celebrated the Festival of Bright Darkness. The sky shimmered with radiant beams, like auroras woven by gods. But unknown to the mortals reveling below, something ancient stirred.
In the center plaza of YinYang City, beneath the great ancient Tree that had stood for over eight centuries, a deep rumble suddenly split the earth.
RUMBLE...
The joyous music halted. The crowd froze.
RUMBLE!
The second tremor shattered the silence—this time not through the ground, but within their minds. A low-frequency roar that bypassed sound and struck directly into their souls. Dozens clutched their ears, blood trickling. Others dropped to their knees, faces pale with terror.
And then they saw it.
A tear—a jagged gash in the night sky, blacker than void—began to stretch across the heavens. As it widened, the celestial lights flickered... then vanished, swallowed whole.
The very sky wept in fear.
From the heart of that abyssal crack, an overwhelming aura surged forth. It was cold, ancient, and full of apocalyptic wrath. Winds shrieked. Lightning spiraled like anguished spirits. Trees bowed, rivers reversed, and mountains shuddered.
BANG!
A shockwave rippled across the world, washing over cities, forests, and distant mountains like a divine hand wiping a canvas clean.
And then, the golden light came.
A beam of divine radiance burst from the rift, engulfing the domain in a majestic, glow. The light looked sacred but felt unholy... yet oppressive, as if weighed down by ten thousand lies too heavy for mortals to bear.
From within the rift, a collosal hand—a hand of molten gold, godlike in size and form—reached down.
One finger alone towered like a celestial pillar. Its surface shimmered with inscriptions and ancient runes.
CRASH!
A glowing object was hurled from the heavens. It shot toward the city like a meteor, exploding upon impact at the epicenter of an ancient forest.The ground trembled. Trees, hundreds of years old, toppled like grass underfoot.
The golden hand moved again, descending. It tapped the earth with a single finger.
FLASH!
A blinding light erupted, then vanished in an instant.
The forest crumbled inward, swallowed by a gaping crater.
Then, silence.
The sky mended. The rift disappeared. The golden light faded. And, slowly, the celestial auroras returned—as if nothing had happened.
But the damage was real.
In the middle of the ruined square, people slowly stood. Bloodied, dazed, silent. They looked around, searching for meaning in the wreckage.
One boy pointed, trembling.
"S-something fell…" he whispered. "From that… from the hand…"
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"What could it be?"
No one knew. But one thing was certain:
The Festival of Bright Darkness had met an untimely end.