Prologue: The Seeker

Long ago, before the world began, darkness was all that there was. There was no form of light or being within the void. But then a shining whiteness burst into the shadows, and from the light came seven beings of color. They were The Seven Lords.
The first lord was Crim, the lord of fiery resolve and the determination that burns within all beings.
The second was Tane, the patient god and lord of the gritty earth.
The third was Sol, a violent being whose strife brought forth golden light and warmth to the land.
The fourth was Vrilore, the calm lord of growth and the green that covers the earth.
The fifth was Az, lord of the ascent and gatekeeper of the heavens.
The sixth was Lune, god of the night sky and watchman of the moon.
But the most powerful of the heavenly band was the lord Kno, god of illusion and mystery, patron of the unknown. No one knew his face, and many said that he had a white countenance, while others said that he was blackened by his allure. Whatever the case, he was the cornerstone of the Light that birthed him and his brothers.

The Seven Lords were delighted at coming into the void, and they shaped it as they pleased. They created a race in their own image and a land for them to inhabit, and so the Aetyrim were born.

The Aetyrim are a fascinating race, distantly related to those of the Fae. They walk on two legs and are covered head to toe in colorful pelts. They don manes that resemble those of sheep’s wool and have the likeness of foxes.
Back in the age of the Seven Lords and the horned Aetyrim, magic was hard to come by and only those chosen by the gods could receive such power. But there was one aetyr who was so blinded by his love for the art that it eventually overcame him.
His name was Dukalis, Aetyria’s greatest mage. He had hazel fur and a long, midnight mane, with spiraling horns the color of oak wood and eyes that gleamed sapphire in the sunlight. He was a mysterious creature, overwhelming in both magic and cunning wit. But his wit failed him the day he came face to face with the Third of the gods, the Lord Sol.

Dukalis had disrespected the gods who created him and his race, and he tried to outpace them in his greed for knowledge and magical prowess. As a result, within the golden god’s fury he was banished from the face of Aetyria.
His book was all that remained of the mage, a testament to what was once the most powerful aetyr, and a warning to those who tried to overthrow the gods. To cast spite upon the mage, the gods enchanted his book to give every newborn aetyr from that point on a form of magic, to make everyone mages and to learn from one another.
However, there is a distinction between Aetyrim regarding the upper and lower classes. Although many variations of pelt colors lie within the acceptable social community of an aetyr, only two remain of the manes: Black and White. Black symbolizes the presence of all hues, and so reflects that of all magical prowess. Meanwhile, white is that of an emptiness, a weakness and void of a truer calling to the status of a lord.
And it just so happened that just as Dukalis had a black mane, so those who received greater magic also had black manes. The gods had unwittingly created a greater divide between their creation, and so while the black maned Aetyrim rose to be kings and queens, lords and magistrates, the white stayed near the bottom and reluctantly accepted their fate as peasants and workers.
Perhaps as the black manes rose to power, the gods grew tired of reasoning with their creation, and due to that, or for some other reason altogether, they disappeared from the face of the earth.
Many believe that the gods died from lack of belief, but those who doubt this say that they left over the East Horizon to seek a new life, and so left their creation on their own.
The doubters have left to seek the gods over the edge of the world, and none have ever returned. Some say that they have met a storm and died that way, while others say that they have fallen off the edge of Aetyria.
But a very select few believe that beyond the East Horizon, where water and sky meet and the moon shines brighter than the sun is where a new world lies. A world of strange, furless beings, of autonomous creation and towers of steel. But only those already there know what they have found: A world of death or life, of light or darkness, of allies or foes.

Perhaps even the Seven Lost Lords they were seeking reside there.

 

 

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“Well!” The aetyr shut the book and rose to his feet, to the dismay of his two pups sitting with him. “It’s time for bed, you two.”

One of the pups groaned. “Can’t we stay up a little longer, Pops?”
“Of course not! It’s nearly moon high,” Abarin laughed. “You’ve stayed up late for the past couple nights. Now it’s time for you to return to your proper sleeping schedule.” He patted Arius on the head and turned to place the book on a nearby shelf.
Arius turned to look at his younger sister, Aven. “You heard him,” He mumbled. “What a party pooper, huh?” Aven nodded somberly.
The two rose to their feet and walked to their rooms, rubbing their eyes as they realized how tired they really were.
“Good night, my pups!” Abarin called playfully. “Sweet dreams!”

Aven shut the door to her room and glanced at her brother. “That’s my bed,” She pouted, her huge ears bent back. “Move, move!”
“No! It’s MINE now!” Arius laughed before getting hit in the face with a pillow. He fell backward and fell off the bed, then sat up to find Aven sitting there with a triumphant grin on her face.
“So THERE!” She crowed boastfully.
Arius shrugged and crawled into his actual bed. “Whatever. Good night, Aven.”
“Good night.”

The room became quiet, with only the soft sea breeze rustling the palm leaves giving ambience to the sleeping Aetyrim. But after a while Aven rose, eyes wide and ears pricked.
“Arius!” She leaned over and shook him. “Wake up!”
“Huh? What?” Arius sleepily replied.
“I just heard the front door open!” Aven glanced out the window worriedly. “I think someone just left the hut! Look!”
“Aven, you’re just seeing things,” Arius mumbled. “Go back to sleep.”
Aven looked out for a moment longer. “…I’m going out to see who’s leaving.”
“Aven, no! We’re supposed to be sleeping, not exploring.”
The albino aetyr turned to her gray brother. “Try and stop me,” She grinned, before hauling herself out the window.
She didn’t turn to see if her brother was following her and raced through the dense undergrowth of the tropical jungle. She could hear the sea waves washing up on the shore and could see the moonlight casting her silver glow through the trees. Finally she saw who had left the hut: It was a hooded figure, walking briskly on a dark dirt path.
Apprehensive, Aven climbed a nearby tree and began to stealthily leap from branch to branch, following the figure and keeping them in her sights.
Now the ferns began to lessen, and Aven could hear the crunching of sand beneath the figure’s feet as she raced overhead. The trees were sparser and she could see the pale ocean in the distance. But there was something odd… there was a small fishing boat on the shore, with nobody inside.
Aven slowed her pace and perched nervously on a branch in the treetops, gazing down at the figure below. She then noticed that they were carrying a large sack, full of who knows what. Belongings? Stolen goods?
The figure placed the sack in the boat, then stopped and glanced behind them, as if they had heard something. Aven began to sweat. But then she heard the tiniest rustle behind her and whipped around. Her brother, Arius, was there, eyes widened as he sat perched.
“Where’d you come from?” Aven whispered, startled.
“WHO’S THERE?”
“AHHHHH!” The sudden yell frightened Aven, and she lost her balance and fell from her branch, down, down, down, to the slate sands below. Before she hit the ground, however, the mysterious figure caught her.
“…Can I… open my eyes now?” Aven whimpered. The figure laughed.
“Yes, my dear little cloud.”
Aven gasped and gazed into the figure’s face. “Daddy? What are you doing out here?”
Behind her, Arius jumped to the ground and raced over to them. “Dad? What’s going on?”
Abarin stared at them, his blue eyes gleaming under his hood. “I’m afraid I have to ask what you two are doing out here, first.”
Aven shrugged sheepishly. “I heard the door to our hut open and shut, then I saw someone leaving. I was… just curious.”
“Where are you going, Dad?” Arius asked.
Abarin glanced at the boat, then sighed. “All right, you two. I suppose I didn’t give either of you a proper goodbye.” “…What do you mean?” Aven asked.
In response, Abarin kneeled down and sat in the sand and motioned his children to follow suit. He then sighed once again. “…Listen. Remember those stories I read to you?” The two young Aetyrim nodded. “Well, daddy is going to… go on an adventure. He’ll be gone for a very, very long time.”
“Can we come with you?” Aven chirped.
Abarin shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, my dear. You are far too young to make such a quest.” He then turned to his son. “Same for you.”
Before he could say any further, however, Arius exclaimed, “Why are you leaving us here alone, then? Why are you going out to sea?”
Abarin gazed at his children warmly, then lifted his head to the East Horizon. “I know you two will be mistreated greatly,” He murmured softly. “You both have white manes like I, and dear Aven is an albino with no magic. You will face discrimination from your own kind and those higher than us, and I believe if I can find the lost gods, then equality will be restored to Aetyria.” He smiled and ruffled both Aven and Arius’ manes. “This will be so that you two do not face any more hate, my dear children.”

“…Daddy, why can’t I help save the world, too?” Aven whispered somberly.
Abarin blinked softly. “But you will, my dear,” He said. “In due time, you will. I promise.”
He rose to his feet and hugged his children, then stepped into the boat. “The housemaid will take care of you for a few years,” He said, “But then you will have to face the masses on your own.” He stared into Arius’ disbelieving eyes. “Arius, my dear son. I expect you to watch out for your sister, and protect her from harm. She has no magic to defend herself and will therefore need to rely on you.”
Arius nodded, tears welling in his eyes.
Abarin waved, then pushed the boat into the waters. As the sea waves carried him away, to the edge of the world, the last words Aven heard him say were:

“I believe in you.”