The Discovery of the ChronicleIn the year of our present reckoning, when the scholars of Erythros delved into the ruins of the Blackfang foothills, they unearthed a chamber sealed by rock and time. Within lay clay fragments, bronze tablets, and scrolls so brittle they turned to powder at a breath.
Among these relics was a text, pieced together from scraps of parchment and etched shards of stone. Its language bore the markings of the Old Tongue, half-familiar, half-forgotten. For months, scribes labored by candlelight, matching broken verses, stitching fragments into sense.
What emerged was no dry record of grain or tribute, but a tale—a tale of war, of love, of betrayal and defiance. A tale not of kings remembered, but of a man almost lost. His name was Kaelion, called the Unyielding.
This chronicle, whether wholly true or half-wrought by legend, has the voice of history and the heart of myth. It speaks of a forgotten city, of a warrior beloved by his people, of a tyrant king and a maiden whose beauty sparked envy and doom. It tells how Kaelion was bound in chains, how he escaped, how he raised the banner of the Unbound, and how in the Valley of Sorrow he met his end with Elysera in his arms.
Yet the chronicle does not end in silence. For even now, in the shepherd villages that cling to the southern hills, a song is sung—a song that remembers Kaelion and Elysera when stones and crowns have long crumbled. It is a rough song, a song of the people, carried in tongues for a thousand years.
This book is that chronicle, gathered and translated from the ruins, with the song preserved at its end. Whether Kaelion lived as flesh or only in the dream of the people, his name is carved upon the memory of the land.
May the reader judge: was he man, or myth?