Before men ever saw the skies of Aeridor — before heroes bore names and kings forged crowns —
there was only the Flow.
Not water.
Not a river that could be seen.
A breath.
A pulse.
A presence that lived within every root, every cloud, every thought.
The wise called it Aether — the blood of the world.
It is everywhere.
In the air, the stone, the light… in every heartbeat.
And sometimes… it breathes back.
"All that lives, lives through the Flow."
— Fragment of the Codex Aetheris
The World of Alfaregia
Alfaregia is no quiet land.
The skies shimmer with colors no tongue can name,
and even the wind carries whispers of forgotten ages.
Twelve currents weave through the world — Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Crystal, Life, Shadow, Light, Death, Mind, Time, and Origin.
Together, they form a fragile balance.
When one grows too strong, the others tremble.
Most call it magic.
Scholars call it Aetherium.
But the Aether itself... decides when it wishes to be heard.
The Continent of Aeridor
At the world's heart lies Aeridor — a land of empires, mysteries, and memory.
From the golden spires of Aeridoris to the shimmering Deep Oases beneath the sea, the Flow touches all.
The Theocracy of the Golden Light preaches purity and order.
The Shadow Lodge whispers freedom and chaos beneath the surface.
And below the waves, the people of the Deep guard the secrets of the Hydro-Aether.
But light and shadow share the same current.
And sometimes… the Flow itself chooses.
When the world falls out of balance, the Aether awakens one soul —
not as a god, nor a savior…
but as a human.
A child unaware of its fate,
destined to change the world without even knowing it.
And so, our story does not begin in palaces or temples,
but in a small village barely marked on any map.
A village called Auenfeld.
A place without heroes.
Not yet.