Chapter 1: The Start
The world was known as Elyndor.
It was a land shaped not by gods or fate, but by forces far older—the elements. From the birth of the mountains to the carving of the seas, from the breath of the wind to the fury of lightning, the elements defined existence itself. Magic was not a gift in Elyndor. It was a law of nature.
Six elements governed the world: Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Lightning, and Void.
From the beginning, the elements made one truth clear:
One being could command only one element.
Those who followed this law were allowed to live in balance. Those who broke it were erased.
🌍 The Kingdoms of Elyndor
At the center of the world stood the Kingdom of Valerion, the capital kingdom of Elyndor. Its capital city, Aurethrone, was a marvel of white stone and golden towers, where kings were crowned and laws were written. The High Throne ruled from there, alongside the feared Elemental Council, which regulated magic across all lands.
Beyond Valerion lay the racial kingdoms.
To the silver forests rose Lunareth, the Elven Kingdom, ruled from the radiant city of Moonspire. The elves were ancient, long-lived, and deeply connected to magic itself. They believed the elements were living beings, not tools.
In the great mountains stood Dravaryn, the Dwarven Kingdom. Its capital, Stonefall Keep, was carved directly into the heart of the mountains. Dwarves valued strength, endurance, and craftsmanship. Their armies were unmatched, and their loyalty was earned through power alone.
Across the open plains and skybound lands stretched Caelwyn, home of the Beastfolk. Their capital, Skylorn, was a city of high towers, bridges, and floating platforms. Freedom defined them. They bowed to no throne willingly.
And beyond the eastern rift, separated from Elyndor by ancient seals, existed a realm that did not belong to this world.
The Demon Realm of Infernyx.
Its capital citadel, Hellspire Dominion, loomed above seas of flame and broken skies. Demons did not respect the elements—they consumed them. Bound by ancient pacts and powerful seals, Infernyx remained isolated… but never silent.
There was also one kingdom that no longer existed.
Eryndraal.
Its name had been scraped from stone, burned from books, and forbidden by the Council. The Void-Touched race that lived there vanished centuries ago, leaving behind nothing but blank spaces on maps and fear in whispered conversations.
Balance was maintained through control.
And Elyndor endured.
Akira Kuroya learned the truth of that balance when he was six years old.
It was not prophecy.
It was not destiny.
It was instinct.
A sudden storm had rolled over the hills near his home, the wind screaming louder than thunder. As rain fell and lightning split the sky, fear should have taken him.
Instead, the fire answered.
Flames bloomed softly in his small hand, warm but harmless. The wind wrapped around him next, shielding his body like an invisible cloak. Akira stood still, eyes calm, heart steady.
Then the world responded.
The earth shifted beneath his feet. Water rose from the river behind him. Lightning froze in the clouds above.
All elements.
Waiting.
Akira reached out—and they obeyed.
In that moment, he understood something no one had ever taught him: the elements were not divided by nature. They were divided by fear.
When the storm passed, Akira stood alone. No destruction. No witnesses. Only silence.
And so, he chose silence in return.
Years passed.
Akira never spoke of that day. He trained himself to suppress what he was, to bury five elements deep within his core. When tested, he revealed only Wind—light, precise, ordinary. When forced, he showed Fire—controlled, disciplined, acceptable.
Two elements were rare.
But they were not forbidden.
So the world did not look closer.
At the academy in Caelwyn, Akira became known as quiet, distant, unremarkable. Instructors praised his control but questioned his ambition. Students passed him by without notice.
That was exactly how he wanted it.
Because Akira knew the truth better than anyone else:
If Valerion discovered what he truly was, the Council would call him a threat.
If Lunareth learned of him, they would bind him to prophecy.
If Dravaryn tested him, they would challenge him.
And if Infernyx sensed him—
The seals would break.
Standing alone on a high tower as the sun set over Elyndor, Akira watched the world he pretended to belong to. Wind whispered at his side. Fire flickered quietly in his palm.
Deep within him, the other elements waited—silent, patient, absolute.
Akira closed his hand, extinguishing the flame.
The world believed in its laws.
But laws were meant to be broken.
And in Elyndor, the beginning had already begun.