The world of Aurion did not begin with gods, nations, or borders.
It began with bloodlines.
The clans.
Eight great civilizations, each carrying the diluted spark of the Aether Kings—unaware that they were living on the shattered spine of a forgotten age.
Kairo knew none of this until Sensi led them into the old stone library beneath the valley.
The air smelled of dust and ancient storms.
Shelves towered like fossilized trees, packed with scrolls the world had abandoned.
The torchlight flickered, and suddenly, the history of the world itself stepped out of the shadows.
THE YORUBA CLAN — The Children of the Stormfire King
Their section of the library was carved with bronze masks and spirals of lightning.
Ruel stood in front of a mural of a man holding fire in one hand and thunder in the other.
"That's Sàngó," Ruel whispered.
Sensi nodded.
"Sàngó was not merely a god. He was the first Yoruba to awaken after the Shattering. His bloodline inherited his fury, his passion, and his storms."
The Yoruba clan's domains stretched across southwest Aurion—dense forests, red clay earth, and sky-hung fortresses that trapped lightning like arrows.
Their warriors were known as Thunderbearers: fast, ferocious, fearless.
Lani leaned closer to the mural.
"So they're really this powerful?"
Sensi answered, "You've met Ruel. What do you think?"
Ruel grinned.
Golden eyes, sharp jaw, hair twisted into short locs that glowed faintly when he summoned flame.
A walking wildfire with a laugh too big for his body.
THE KEMETIC CLAN — Pharaohs of Sun and Shadow
This section of the library was colder.
Darker.
Hieroglyphs branded the walls like glowing scars.
Isha moved silently beside Kairo, her dark braids swinging like ink.
Her eyes—gold with a slit of amber—reflected the murals perfectly.
"These are my ancestors," she said quietly.
Carvings showed Ra leading a solar army.
Anubis standing over jackal-spirits.
Isis weaving Aether like silk.
"The Kemetic clan," Sensi explained, "stands between the living and the dead. Half their warriors command light… the other half command the Underworld."
Isha ran her fingers over a depiction of a woman crowned with stars.
"Isis taught our clan the first Aether seals. We guard the gates of the spirit realms."
Her posture was flawless—elegant yet deadly.
Isha was the only one who could stand beside Kairo without being overpowered by his presence.
And the only one he couldn't read.
THE GREEK BLOODLINES — Children of Olympus
These murals were brutal.
Warriors locked in combat.
Lightning spears.
Snakes twisting around human arms.
Athena's crest.
Ares' wolf banner.
Poseidon's trident carved into obsidian.
Kairo's chest tightened.
His father had once spoken of Olympus like it was legend—abstract, distant.
But these carvings… they weren't myths.
They were history.
"The Greeks," Sensi said, "are divided into Twelve High Houses. Zeus' line rules the most. Athena's the smartest. Ares' the strongest. But the rarest of all—"
He touched a panel showing twin serpents.
"—is Apollo's line. The Seers of Light. And the Healers of Fate."
Kairo said nothing, but he felt something shift in his blood.
A pulse.
A memory he shouldn't have.
His eyes flickered gold before he calmed it.
The others didn't notice.
But Sensi noticed everything.
THE NORDIC CLAN — The Frostborn
Carved in blue ice that refused to melt, the Frostborn murals showed giants, wolves, and runes burning with cold fire.
Damis, the calm one, stepped forward.
His silver hair glowed under the torchlight.
His eyes were pale blue—almost white.
Kairo had always thought he looked like winter shaped into a boy.
Now he understood why.
"The Nordic clan was forged in the age of Ragnarok," Sensi said.
"Odin's blood runs deep in them. They feel cold not as a sensation, but as a command."
Damis traced a runestone with reverence.
"I always knew why my skin never burns. Why ice bends toward me."
He looked over his shoulder at the others.
"Now I know where it comes from."
THE SHINTO CLAN — Spiritwalkers
This was the quietest part of the library.
The torches dimmed, as though bowing.
Foxes, spirits, cherry blossoms, nine-tailed beasts—this section was alive.
Lani smiled softly, her delicate fox-like eyes glowing pink.
Her white hair shimmered like moonlight, always soft, always dancing with invisible wind.
"My clan… They served Amaterasu," she whispered. "We're not warriors. We're guides. Messengers between spirits and mortals."
Sensi corrected her.
"You are the deadliest trackers on the continent."