Eldrya is a vast, ancient world where mortals, gods, and magic coexist in a fragile balance. Its lands are diverse and alive with mystery, danger, and wonder. From lush forests to desolate plains, from towering mountains to storm-lashed coasts, Eldrya is a realm of endless adventure and hidden power.
The Lands of Eldrya
Spartacus: Known for its proud warriors and harsh training grounds, Spartacus is a land where strength and strategy determine survival. Its people honor courage, cunning, and resilience.
Atheorion: A land of rugged mountains and sacred forges, producing unmatched warriors and legendary weapons. Its people value discipline and skill, and many relics of immense power lie hidden here.
Noctura: A shadowed, corrupted land where dark magic thrives. Noctura's armies are cruel and cunning, and it serves as a source of terror to neighboring territories.
Lumaria: A land of mystical streams and glowing flora, home to powerful magic and rare artifacts. Scholars and mages flock here to study its secrets.
Zephyros: Towering cliffs and wind-swept valleys, where skilled artisans and elemental mages craft tools of war and wonder.
The Gods of Eldrya
Ares, God of War: Proud and cunning, he sees potential in mortals and sometimes grants them great power—but his motives are never entirely pure.
Sylvara, Goddess of Life: Protector of mortals, she blesses armor, shields, and other relics, granting resilience and life-enhancing magic.
Other divine beings govern wisdom, fate, nature, and storms, often intervening subtly or offering guidance through cryptic whispers.
Magic and Artifacts
Doran's Shield: A perfect balance of defense and offense, it can nullify any attack and turn the force back as a devastating counterstrike. It can also protect multiple allies and adapt to new threats over time.
The Primordial Spear: Tied to the raw power of the world, capable of piercing any defense, channeling magical energy, and amplifying the wielder's spirit. It adapts to opponents' strengths.
Helm of Whispered Resolve: Protects from mental attacks, enhances perception, and reveals hidden paths in chaos.
Breastplate of Atheorion: Grants extraordinary resilience, absorbs minor magical attacks, and is nearly unbreakable.
Sword of Silence: Silent and deadly, it pierces magical defenses and strikes unseen.
Uncommon Relics: Luminara's Tear, Stormsong Bracelet, Obsidian Fang.
Birth and Early Loss
The land of Spartacus was jagged, wild, and unforgiving. Cliffs tore into the sky like broken spears, rivers carved merciless paths through stone, and forests hid predators and wonders in equal measure. Here, only the strong endured—and the cunning survived.
Atreus' first cry was drowned by tragedy. His mother, Lyra, perished giving him life, her final breath fading as the infant wailed in his father's arms.
Damon, a once-proud warrior, stared at the fragile child with hollow eyes. His grief curdled into rage.
"You… you took her from me," Damon whispered, voice trembling, torn between despair and fury. His hand clenched the swaddling cloth as if it might crush the boy. "Do you hear me, boy? You are nothing but a curse."
From that day forward, Atreus was not nurtured but endured, growing beneath the shadow of a father who could not forgive the son for living where the mother had died.
---
The Hidden Grove
Ten years later even as a child, Atreus was different. Small, quiet, and unassuming, he often stood in the background while other boys brawled or raced through the streets. Where they built their strength on contests of pride, Atreus built his in patience and silence.
He found refuge in a grove outside the village, a pocket of stillness untouched by scorn. There, he baked bread with herbs he had gathered, shaped figures in the dirt with sticks, and tended small plants he coaxed to grow in broken pots.
One evening, he discovered a fox caught in an iron trap, its fur shimmering faintly as though it carried the glow of embers within it.
"Easy now," Atreus murmured, hands trembling as he forced the trap open. The fox whimpered, then limped free, circling him once before brushing its glowing tail against his leg. From that night, the creature—Luminara—remained near the grove.
The boy who had no family found in it a companion that asked nothing of him.
---
The First Encounter
The sun barely touched the horizon when Atreus pressed dough in the grove, the smell of bread mixing with the damp perfume of the forest. His hands worked carefully, each fold neat, each motion calm.
A voice startled him—bright, curious, unexpected.
"Hello? Who's there?"
Atreus froze. From the brush stepped a girl with hair silver as moonlight. Her eyes studied him with disarming boldness.
"I… I didn't see you," Atreus stammered. His cheeks flushed under her gaze.
"I'm Selene," she said simply. "I was exploring." She glanced at the bread, her lips curving in a small smile. "You… bake?"
"Yes," Atreus admitted softly. "Sometimes. I watch animals too. And… care for them."
Selene tilted her head, intrigued. "Most boys chase swords or glory. But you notice the small things."
Before he could reply, laughter and heavy steps broke the quiet. Cassian emerged—his cousin, taller, broader, already brimming with the pride of a young warrior.
"Baking again, Atreus?" Cassian mocked, snatching up a stick and twirling it like a spear. "Do you even know how to hold a real weapon?"
Atreus kept calm. "A loaf feeds longer than a blade," he said, though his voice wavered.
Cassian smirked. "You'll starve long before you fight."
Behind him came Taren and Marcellus, shadows at his shoulder.
Taren sneered. "He'll never survive Spartacus like this."
Marcellus grinned. "Always hiding. Always quiet. Pathetic."
Their taunts echoed cruelly in the grove.
But Selene stepped closer to Atreus, her silver hair catching the light. "Enough," she said firmly. "Strength isn't just muscle. He's stronger than you think."
Cassian scowled. "Stay out of it, Selene. He's weak. Always will be."
Atreus didn't rise to the bait. He stood silent, jaw tight, eyes steady. That quiet defiance unsettled Cassian more than words could have.
When the three boys finally retreated, their laughter fading, Selene turned to Atreus.
"You don't have to fight them with fists," she whispered. "There are other kinds of strength."
Atreus looked at her, something sparking in his chest—a rare warmth. In that moment, he understood: he might not have the size or the pride of others, but he could endure. He could think. He could wait.
And sometimes, that was enough.
---
From those days forward, Atreus grew differently than the rest. While Cassian hardened his body, Atreus sharpened his patience. While Taren learned to mock, Atreus learned to listen. While Marcellus schemed for mischief, Atreus studied every small thing in silence.
The grove, the fox, the bread, and the silver-haired girl became his foundation. What seemed fragile to others became his quiet strength.
And though the world saw only weakness, within the quiet boy stirred the beginnings of a path that would one day shake gods.