THE WHISPERS OF ERIDOR
Episode 1: Ashes of Light
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Top — The World of Eridor
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The sky above Eridor shimmered with hues of amber and gold, threaded with rivers of magic that pulsed through the heavens like veins of light. If one looked closely, they'd see five distinct sigils hovering faintly among the clouds—ancient emblems of power that throbbed in rhythm with the world's unseen heartbeat.
Viscus. Corteon. Nexon. Levion. Seior. Five nations—each proud, each forged from different elements of magic. Each a kingdom of beauty and danger.
In Seior, mystic forests grew tall and alive, their branches whispering forgotten spells. Levion floated above the clouds, its marble cities defying gravity with pure arcana. Viscus channeled the rage of storms and beasts. Corteon burned hot with the heat of forges, its magic made of war and steel. Nexon… Nexon was flame and spirit, a nation where raw energy burst like fireworks in its people's blood.
But Eridor was not a land of peace. Behind its breathtaking wonders lurked old grudges. Fragile truces held by tension, and the threat of open war never far from reach. Power determined worth. And in this world, only magic ruled.
Each year, the Unity Clash reminded the nations of that truth—a grand tournament where young mages fought for honor and dominance. Victory meant national glory. Defeat brought shame. But behind the staged battles and national pride, an ancient darkness stirred, watching from the edge of memory.
They called them the DoRs—artifacts of unimaginable power. There were only six. Square-shaped crystals, each a different color, said to hold the force of creation itself. A myth to most. A threat to the few who knew better.
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2nd Part — Hierarchy and Power
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Beneath Nexon's burning sky, the Grand Academy loomed—a colossus of red stone and silver runes. Inside, Elder Varnis stood before a class of young apprentices, his robes heavy with enchanted chains, his voice a sharp crack of thunder.
"Five Nations," he barked, "Five pillars of civilization! Each ruled by a Nation Lord, the most powerful mage in their land. Below them, the Circle of Pillars—masters of law, war, and magic. Then the Special Mages —dangerous, few, feared. And you…"
He pointed a finger at the students.
"You are nothing. Yet."
The illusion above him shifted, casting a map of Eridor into the air. Colored light outlined the territories. Fire danced over Corteon. Wind flowed through Levion. Forest green blossomed from Seior. And in the heart—Nexon, blazing like a sun.
"You will rise, or you will vanish. That is the law of Eridor."
In every nation, this truth echoed. Children were trained not for peace, but survival. Mages were not scholars—they were soldiers. And the path to power was paved in battle.
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3rd Part — The Great War of Eridor
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But there was a time when even war between the nations was set aside. A time of shadows… and fire.
It began with a scream that tore through the heavens. Dark wings spread across the horizon. The Demon King, DACRON , returned from the Hollow Realm—a place outside the known world. With him came an army of horrors, born from hate and void.
Cities fell. Nations trembled. All five united in desperation.
Even then… they lost.
Amidst the chaos, two mages stood against the tide. Zex Shion and Marie Shion. Their magic burned with light no demon could match. Together with the power of five DoRs, they faced Darcon himself.
The battle scarred the sky. Spells like stars collided above the mountains. The ground cracked open. The ocean boiled.
Darcon laughed. "You burn your lives for dust and dreams?"
Zex raised his DoR, veins glowing. "We burn them to bury you."
With one final, blinding surge of power, they sealed Darcon into the Hollow Realm once more—banishing him to the darkness between time. But the price…
Zex and Marie collapsed. Empty. Their bodies turned to ash, carried by the wind.
And their eldest son, Eren Shion, vanished in the chaos. No one saw where. No one knew how. Only a baby remained—Ciren.
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4th Part — The Burden of Inheritance
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The five surviving DoRs were given to the nations—each entrusted to guard one with their lives. Hidden. Watched. Feared.
And the child? The orphan of heroes? He vanished from memory.
Until now.
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5th Part — Present Day: Ciren
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Twelve years later, the streets of Nexon buzzed with heat and light. Lanterns floated midair, casting gold over cobblestone. And through it ran a boy—barefoot, laughing, hair wild in the wind.
Ciren Shion
"I'm gonna be the strongest mage in Eridor!" he shouted to no one in particular, arms outstretched like wings.
People turned to look. Not with smiles… but with whispers.
"That's him…"
"The cursed boy…"
"His brother died, didn't he? Or maybe he killed him…"
Ciren slowed. The joy slipped from his face like melting wax. He lowered his arms, curling his fingers into fists.
A little girl pointed. Her mother pulled her away.
He whispered under his breath, "I didn't…"
Then—footsteps. Calm. Solid.
A tall man in violet robes approached. Silver hair, tired eyes, and a presence that made the street hold its breath.
Kai Zephion, Nexon's Special Mage, Ciren's guardian.
Kai crouched beside the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"They still talk?" he asked gently.
Ciren didn't answer. Just nodded, lip trembling.
"They used to say the same about me," Kai said, smiling faintly. "Back when I had nothing but a spell and a stubborn heart. Now they call me 'Master.'"
"But they hate me," Ciren said. "They think I'm a monster."
"They fear you," Kai corrected. "There's a difference."
Ciren looked up, his eyes round with frustration. "I don't want to be feared. I want to be strong! I want to make things better!"
Kai ruffled his hair. "Then become strong. Become the kind of mage who changes the world. Not by being feared—but by being undeniable."
Ciren blinked. Then smiled. Not wide. Not loud. Just enough.
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End Part — Toward the Sunset
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The two walked side by side, their silhouettes stretching across the warm cobblestones. The sun dipped low, casting the whole of Nexon in crimson and gold.
Ahead, the Academy awaited.
And beyond that—destiny.
Behind them, whispers followed.
Before them, the world opened like a wound waiting to be healed.
The boy with the DoR inside him was ready to begin his story.
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To Be Continued…
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