In the endless void between stars drifts a world named Avara—
a realm where magic breathes life, and monsters sing beneath the blood-red moon.
It was a world of wonder and myth.
Dragons soared above the clouds, phoenixes blazed with immortal fire, and mermaids danced within the crystal seas.
Demons, devils, elves, griffins, humans, and countless other races walked its lands in uneasy peace.
For centuries, the balance held.
But peace, no matter how divine, always has an end.
One night, without warning, a dark smoke seeped into the heavens.
It swallowed the stars, devoured the moonlight, and spread across every horizon.
From that abyss came mysterious beings—creatures without form, names, or mercy.
They whispered through shadows, consumed magic, and fed upon life itself.
One by one, the proud races of Avara began to vanish.
Forests withered. Oceans turned silent. The air itself began to rot.
Terror and despair devoured the hearts of even the strongest.
In the face of annihilation, the rulers of every race gathered at the center of the world—
beneath the shattered branches of the Tree of Origin, the first source of all magic.
There, bound by fear and hope, they forged a single vow:
"If this world is destined to fall into darkness… then let our souls stand against it."
From that vow were born the Eight Guardians—
beings chosen to protect Avara from the eight directions of creation:
The Northern Guardian — a High-Class Elf, wielder of eternal frost.
The Northeastern Guardian — a King-Level Demon, forged in hellfire.
The Eastern Guardian — the Thunder King Dragon, storm incarnate.
The Southeastern Guardian — the Phoenix Lord, reborn through flame.
The Southern Guardian — a High-Class Devil, ruler of the abyss.
The Southwestern Guardian — the Griffin of Dawn, born of light and valor.
The Western Guardian — a God-Level Wind Magician, whose breath shapes the skies.
The Northwestern Guardian — a Mermaid Queen, sovereign of tide and despair.
And so, the Eight Guardians of Avara were born—
the final wall between creation and oblivion.
Yet, even as their power awakened, the darkness laughed.
For it had already chosen its vessel...
and the age of despair had only just begun.
---