Nestled in his mother's arms, Elias presented the picture of an innocent child, mesmerized by the gentle sway and the soft cadences of her voice. Outwardly, he was just a toddler, secure and content. Inwardly, however, the mind of Ethan churned, processing not only the recent, earth-shattering event of his explosive awakening but also the vast, overarching knowledge of the world he now inhabited.
He was no longer Ethan Aquah,he was Elias, son of Lord Alaric and Lady Elara; he was a being of eternal life, marooned on a planet he now understood intimately, a place far more complex than his toddler body could ever outwardly convey.
This world,this Earth, he read, before he blew up the library , was not a singular, unbroken landmass, but a tapestry woven from six distinct continents. Four of these were vibrant, inhabited lands:
'Aeridor', his current, unwilling home at the center;
The sun-baked, ancient deserts of 'Khemri' to the south-east, renowned for their arcane secrets and enigmatic rulers, a land of shimmering oases and hidden lore;
The misty, ancient forests of Silvanus to the far west, home to elusive peoples and primordial magic, where the trees themselves seemed to hum with old power;
And the rugged, volcanic islands of 'Ignis to the west, inhabited by hardy warriors and fierce elementalists, a place of fire and unyielding stone. Each possessed its own unique climates, peoples, and, crucially, different ways of perceiving and interacting with the pervasive energy known as Flow.
The sheer diversity of it all was daunting, especially for someone who now had infinite time stretching before him, potentially filled with endless exploration of the ways he could successfully end his life or, worse,he thought, boundless boredom after failing woefully.
Beyond these four primary landmasses lay two colossal polar ice caps, often considered continents in their own right due to their immense scale and the ancient, seemingly untouched secrets they were rumored to hold beneath their frozen surfaces. Legends spoke of forgotten civilizations and untold magical power sealed beneath those desolate, icy plains, drawing the occasional intrepid explorer or desperate exile.
Elias, with his immortality now saw these as places he could go to find newer ways to die if he could do so in any of the four continents.
Elias's home continent, Aeridor, was itself a land of remarkable diversity. Stretching from the temperate forests and rolling hills of the central plains to the craggy, snow-capped peaks in the north and the sun-drenched, fertile coastlines in the south, Aeridor was generally considered the heart of human civilization. It was a continent where the delicate balance of power and influence was meticulously maintained, a crucible where great nations had risen, flourished, and, on occasion, tragically fallen, their histories etched into the very stone of ancient ruins and whispered among the oldest trees.
To Elias, trapped in his small form, Aeridor was both a familiar cage and an endlessly expansive, suffocating prison.