From the Archives of the Lost Kingdoms
Preface: A World of Stories
The planet Vulcan holds secrets within its ancient stones and whispered legends. Before the arrival of Misaki Haruto from distant Earth, countless generations lived, loved, fought, and died beneath its alien stars. This chronicle gathers the fragments of their stories—the legends passed down through spoken word, the histories carved in temple walls, and the myths that shaped the very nations now locked in conflict.
These are the tales that preceded the astronaut's journey to our world. The foundation upon which destiny would build its greatest challenges.
Chapter 1: In the Beginning - The Saint's Legacy
The Dawn of Consciousness
Long before the first cities rose from Vulcan's soil, when the planet itself was young and the two moons hung closer to the surface, there existed only silence. The ancient texts speak of this time as the "Empty Age"—when Vulcan possessed land, water, and sky, but no voice to speak its name.
From this silence came the Saint.
Whether the Saint was divine, mortal, or something between, none can say. The oldest legends, carved in the deepest caves of the Tra'lith mountains, speak of a figure who walked between worlds. The Saint did not create life on Vulcan—they awakened it. Every sentient race on the planet traces their first breath of true consciousness to the Saint's touch.
The elves of Xyi'vana'mir tell of silver light flowing from gentle hands that turned their ancestors from mere forest dwellers into keepers of ancient wisdom. The mountain clans of Seleun'mhir speak of stone tablets appearing overnight, teaching their forebears the secrets of metalwork and engineering. The desert peoples of Val'kaz'ra sing songs of water springing from barren sand wherever the Saint's feet touched ground.
And from the Saint's own essence came Saint's Blood—the crimson-orange liquid that would, thousands of years later, become both salvation and doom for those bold or desperate enough to seek its power.
The Great Dispersal
The Saint did not remain to rule over their awakened children. As suddenly as they had appeared, they vanished, leaving behind only their gifts and their blood. The awakened races found themselves scattered across Vulcan's vast continents, each group carrying fragments of the greater truth.
This dispersal was not random. Ancient maps, when overlaid across the modern geography of Riyeak continent, reveal a pattern. The elves claimed the deep forests where the earth's mana flowed strongest. The mountain clans settled where the planet's chakra lines converged in powerful nodes. The desert peoples followed rivers of liquid starlight—veins of rare metals that would one day fuel their golden age.
Each race developed along the path the Saint had set for them, growing into civilizations that reflected both their nature and their gifts. For three thousand years, they built in isolation, unaware that others like them flourished across the vast distances of their world.
Chapter 2: The Age of Discovery
First Contact Between Races
The isolation ended when Aelindra Silverwind, an elven explorer whose wanderlust exceeded even her people's natural curiosity, followed a merchant's tale of "singing stones" beyond her forest home. This journey, undertaken 2,847 years before Misaki's arrival, brought her to the foothills of what would later become Seleun'mhir territory.
There she encountered Thorin Ironfoot, a dwarven mining engineer investigating reports of strange magical emanations from the lowlands. Their meeting is recorded in both elven song and dwarven stone-script as the "First Recognition"—the moment when two awakened races realized they were not alone.
Aelindra's journal, preserved in the Great Library of Xyi'vana'mir, describes her first sight of Thorin:
"A being like myself, yet carved from mountain stone where I was shaped from flowing water. His eyes held the same spark of understanding that I saw in my own reflection. We spoke no common tongue, yet when he showed me fire dancing in his palm and I answered with wind that sang his name, we both knew the Saint had touched us all."
The Trade Routes Open
First contact led to first trade. Within a century, permanent routes connected the major racial territories. The Elven Road wound through ancient forests, marked by living trees that grew in perfect spirals to guide travelers. The Dwarven Path cut straight through mountain passes, reinforced by engineering marvels that remain intact today. The Desert Winds route followed seasonal currents of air that carried sailing ships across the golden dunes of Val'kaz'ra.
These routes brought more than goods—they carried languages, ideas, and the first stirrings of what would become inter-racial politics. The peaceful nature of these early exchanges established patterns that would shape Vulcan for millennia. Unlike many worlds where first contact breeds conflict, Vulcan's races found common ground in their shared Saint heritage.
The Great Library Era
As trade flourished, so did learning. The combined knowledge of all races led to unprecedented advancement. The Great Library of Xyi'vana'mir was established as a neutral ground where elven magic, dwarven engineering, and human innovation could be studied together.
Master Thalorin the Wise, an elf-dwarf collaboration project, created the first unified chakra-mana theoretical framework during this era. Their research notes, written in three different scripts on pages of living wood bound with star-forged metal, laid the groundwork for all modern magical understanding.
It was during the Great Library Era that scholars first began to study Saint's Blood. Early experiments were cautious, reverent affairs conducted in specially consecrated chambers. The blood was considered too sacred for casual use, leading to careful documentation of its effects rather than widespread application.
These records speak of "divine communion" rather than the raw power-seeking that would characterize later users. The few brave scholars who underwent the transformation in this era reported visions of the Saint's original journey, glimpses of other worlds beyond Vulcan, and profound understanding of their own racial gifts.
The 10% survival rate was established during these careful studies, though early scholars interpreted the deaths as "those found unworthy by divine judgment" rather than simple biological incompatibility.
Chapter 3: The Rise of Nations
The Founding Wars
Peace, however genuine, could not last forever on a world as vast as Vulcan. As populations grew and resources became strained, the loose confederations of clan and tribe began consolidating into true nation-states. These transformations rarely occurred without conflict.
The Founding Wars, fought sporadically over a 200-year period, were not conflicts between races but between competing visions of governance within each racial group. Elven traditionalists who preferred small forest enclaves clashed with expansionists who dreamed of unified woodland kingdoms. Dwarven isolationists battled their own people who sought surface alliances. Human tribes fractured along lines of magical philosophy—those who embraced chakra versus those who pursued mana mastery.
Birth of Ul'varh'mir
The kingdom of Ul'varh'mir emerged from the greatest of these human conflicts. Three powerful clans—the Ironhand, Goldthroat, and Moonwatch families—had fought a vicious three-way war for control of the central river valleys. Each clan commanded different magical traditions and military strategies.
The war ended not through conquest but through catastrophe. A massive Vro'kora'mir (the six-eyed apex predator of the region) had grown bold during the years of conflict, feeding on battlefield dead until it reached enormous size. The beast's rampage through civilian settlements finally forced the three clans to unite.
Kaelan Ironhand, the war-leader who devised the strategy that brought down the Vro'kora'mir, was elected as the first King of Ul'varh'mir by common acclamation. His crown was forged from the beast's own claws and set with gemstones representing each of the three founding clans.
The early kings of Ul'varh'mir ruled with wisdom and restraint. They established the Code of the Iron Crown—laws that balanced clan autonomy with national unity. Under their governance, Ul'varh'mir became known for its engineering marvels, its fair treatment of non-human races, and its innovative agricultural techniques.
The Golden Years
For eight hundred years, Ul'varh'mir embodied the best of human civilization on Vulcan. The kingdom's engineers carved irrigation systems that turned barren land fertile. Its mages developed healing techniques that extended lifespans and reduced infant mortality. Its military served primarily as disaster relief, responding to floods, monster attacks, and other natural crises throughout the region.
The capital city, Valdris, became a jewel of architecture where humans, elves, dwarves, and other races lived as equals. The Royal Academy trained students in both chakra and mana manipulation, producing graduates who spread knowledge throughout the continent.
King Aldric the Builder, the seventh ruler of Ul'varh'mir, commissioned the Great Observatory—a tower that pierced the clouds and allowed astronomers to study Vulcan's twin moons and distant stars. From this observatory came the first accurate calendar system, the discovery of Vulcan's unique axial tilt, and the mathematical principles that would later guide trade route optimization.
Seeds of Corruption
The kingdom's downfall began with success. As Ul'varh'mir grew prosperous, it attracted attention from ambitious neighboring states and from within its own borders. The discovery of extensive rare metal deposits brought wealth beyond imagination—and with it, the temptations that would eventually destroy everything the early kings had built.
The first signs of corruption appeared during the reign of King Aldric's grandson, Valdron the Magnificent. Unlike his ancestors who had ruled from duty, Valdron ruled from desire. He commissioned increasingly elaborate palaces, maintained a court of sycophants, and began viewing the kingdom's resources as his personal treasury.
More dangerously, Valdron was the first king to actively seek out Saint's Blood. Where previous rulers had respected its sacred nature, Valdron saw only power. He funded expeditions to recover ancient caches of the crimson-orange liquid, justifying the risk by claiming he needed "divine strength to rule effectively."
Valdron survived the transformation. His Motion—the exact nature of which remains unknown—seemed to amplify his natural charisma and political instincts. What had been mere arrogance became an almost supernatural ability to manipulate others. Court records from his later reign show a pattern of increasingly erratic behavior as nobles who opposed him either changed their minds or disappeared entirely.
Chapter 4: The Clan Histories
The Ironhand Legacy
Of the three founding clans of Ul'varh'mir, none left a deeper mark on the kingdom's character than Clan Ironhand. Their family motto, "Strength Serves All," reflected a philosophy that would guide the realm's golden age and later make its corruption all the more tragic.
Marcus Ironhand, brother to the founding king, established the tradition of the Royal Guard—elite warriors sworn to protect not just the monarchy but the people themselves. These guardsmen took oaths that bound them to intervene if any ruler, even their king, threatened the innocent. For centuries, this tradition remained a crucial check on royal power.
The Ironhand clan produced seven of Ul'varh'mir's sixteen kings, each inheriting not only the throne but the clan's emphasis on duty over privilege. Under Ironhand rule, the kingdom's military never launched a war of conquest. Instead, the Royal Army specialized in defensive operations and disaster relief.
Clan Ironhand's engineering traditions rivaled those of the dwarves. Their innovations included the Great Bridge of Valdris (a span that crossed the Silverflow River without a single supporting pillar), the Royal Road system (magically reinforced pathways that self-repaired minor damage), and the Crown Fortress (a palace designed to house refugees in times of crisis rather than simply display wealth).
The clan's downfall came during the reign of King Theron Ironhand, great-great-grandson of the founder. Unlike his ancestors, Theron had been born into luxury and raised by tutors who emphasized his divine right to rule rather than his responsibility to serve. When faced with the first serious rebellion in Ul'varh'mir's history—a tax revolt by mining communities—Theron chose force over negotiation.
The Battle of Copper Hills marked the end of Ironhand moral authority. Royal Guards, for the first time in their history, found themselves ordered to suppress peaceful protests. Some units refused; others obeyed reluctantly. The resulting chaos saw the Royal Guard split into factions, the mining communities driven into open revolt, and Theron himself killed when his own bodyguard captain chose to honor his oath to the people over his loyalty to the crown.
The Goldthroat Chronicles
Where Clan Ironhand provided warrior-kings, Clan Goldthroat produced the merchant princes and diplomats who built Ul'varh'mir's prosperity. Their name came not from greed but from their founder's legendary voice—Lyanna Goldthroat could sing magical contracts into binding force, making her negotiations literally impossible to break.
The Goldthroats established Ul'varh'mir's trade networks with neighboring kingdoms and distant lands. Under their influence, the realm became a hub of international commerce. Elven silverwork, dwarven metalcraft, and exotic goods from across the continent flowed through Ul'varh'mir's markets.
More importantly, the Goldthroats pioneered the concept of magical commerce—trade agreements sealed with binding spells that made cheating impossible and ensured fair dealing. These contracts, known as "Goldthroat Bonds," became the standard for international trade throughout the region.
The clan produced three kings, each ruling during periods of economic expansion. King Roderick Goldthroat oversaw the construction of the Grand Bazaar, a marketplace complex where representatives from every known nation could trade under magical protections that prevented violence or fraud. Queen Helena Goldthroat (one of only two female rulers in Ul'varh'mir's history) negotiated the Treaty of Flowing Gold with Val'kaz'ra, establishing the trade routes that would bring desert wealth to the mountain kingdoms.
The Goldthroats' weakness lay in their assumption that everyone else shared their faith in the power of contracts and mutual benefit. When dealing with neighboring states that valued military might over economic partnership, their diplomatic approaches often failed catastrophically.
This weakness became fatal during the reign of King Marcus Goldthroat the Younger. Faced with increasing pressure from Vel'koda'mir's expansionist military, Marcus attempted to negotiate a comprehensive trade agreement that would make war economically impossible. His assumption that rational self-interest would prevent conflict proved tragically wrong when Vel'koda'mir's armies ignored their treaty obligations and launched a surprise attack that devastated three border provinces before Marcus could mobilize a military response.
The Moonwatch Mysteries
The most enigmatic of the founding clans, Moonwatch specialized in magical research and the preservation of ancient knowledge. Unlike their more politically involved cousins, the Moonwatch rarely sought the throne directly—but their influence over royal policy through their roles as advisors and court mages shaped every reign.
Clan Moonwatch maintained the Royal Archive, a vast library that collected not just books but magical artifacts, crystallized memories, and preserved specimens from across Vulcan. Their researchers made breakthrough discoveries in chakra-mana theory, astronomical observation, and historical preservation techniques.
The clan's name derived from their hereditary role as Vulcan's timekeepers. Using a combination of magical observation and mathematical calculation, Moonwatch astronomers tracked the movements of the twin moons with perfect accuracy. Their calculations enabled farmers to plant by optimal lunar phases, helped sailors navigate by celestial positions, and warned of the rare eclipses that could disrupt magical energies across the continent.
When Moonwatch members did rule—which happened twice in Ul'varh'mir's history—their reigns were marked by unprecedented magical and technological advancement. Queen Celestine Moonwatch commissioned the Great Observatory and funded the research that led to the first flying machines. King Aldwin Moonwatch established the Royal Academy's advanced research division and opened the kingdom's libraries to scholars from all nations.
The clan's obsession with knowledge ultimately led to their downfall. When Vel'koda'mir's armies approached the capital during the final war, the last Lord Moonwatch, Erasmus the Wise, chose to remain in the Royal Archive rather than flee. His final act was to trigger a magical preservation spell that sealed the most valuable books and artifacts in temporal stasis, protecting them from destruction at the cost of his own life.
These sealed chambers remain hidden somewhere in the ruins of Valdris, their treasures waiting for someone worthy to claim them.
Chapter 5: The Neighboring Powers
Seleun'mhir: The Mountain Confederation
Long before the refugee crisis that would define its modern character, Seleun'mhir existed as a loose confederation of mining clans and mountain communities. The harsh environment of the Tra'lith mountains demanded cooperation for survival, creating a culture that valued collective decision-making over individual authority.
The confederation's governing structure, known as the "Circle of Peaks," brought together representatives from each major settlement. Unlike kingdoms with hereditary rulers, Seleun'mhir's leaders earned their positions through demonstrated competence in mining, engineering, or monster hunting. The system proved remarkably stable—in two thousand years, the confederation never experienced a civil war or succession crisis.
Seleun'mhir's prosperity came from their mastery of mythri metal extraction and refinement. Mythri, a magical alloy that enhanced non-mages' physical capabilities, could only be mined from the deepest mountain veins where traditional tools failed. The mountain clans developed specialized techniques using controlled explosions of chakra energy to crack mythri veins without damaging the precious metal.
The confederation's military traditions focused on defensive warfare and monster hunting rather than conquest. The legendary Stone Guard—elite units equipped with mythri weapons and armor—specialized in hunting the massive Vro'bax'ul that threatened mining operations. These hunters developed tactics that would later prove crucial when Vel'koda'mir's armies reached the mountain passes.
Val'kaz'ra: The Desert Empire
The golden sands of Val'kaz'ra concealed the wealthiest nation on the continent. Built around vast oases and underground river systems, the desert empire controlled trade routes that connected the eastern and western portions of Riyeak continent. Their cities rose like jeweled mirages from the endless dunes, powered by solar magic and irrigated by engineering marvels that channeled water from hidden aquifers.
Val'kaz'ra's power came not from military conquest but from economic dominance. They controlled the production and trade of rare earth elements essential for advanced magical engineering. Their merchant houses operated trading posts in every major city, their ships sailed every navigable sea, and their caravans followed routes that spanned continents.
The empire's social structure reflected its commercial origins. Unlike kingdoms with hereditary nobility, Val'kaz'ra's ruling class consisted of merchant houses that gained power through successful trading ventures. The Council of Golden Scales (named for the magical artifacts used to ensure honest dealings) included representatives from each major trading house, with voting power proportional to their economic contributions to the empire.
This meritocratic system produced remarkably competent leadership but also created intense competition between merchant houses. The empire's history is filled with "Trade Wars"—economic conflicts where rival houses attempted to sabotage each other's business ventures through market manipulation, route blocking, and occasionally direct action by hired mercenaries.
Xyi'vana'mir: The Forest Kingdom
The elven realm of Xyi'vana'mir represented the oldest continuous civilization on the continent. Their cities grew from living trees shaped by centuries of patient magic, creating organic architecture that blended seamlessly with the ancient forests. Unlike human settlements that imposed their will upon the landscape, elven communities became part of the ecosystem they inhabited.
Xyi'vana'mir's governance followed principles of consensus and long-term thinking that reflected elven lifespans. Major decisions required agreement from the Council of Roots—elders who had lived through multiple centuries and could speak from direct experience of past consequences. This system produced wise but slow governance that frustrated the shorter-lived races during times of crisis.
The kingdom's military philosophy emphasized mobility and magical warfare over direct confrontation. Elven rangers could move through forest terrain without leaving tracks, communicate over vast distances through tree-song magic, and strike enemies with precisely targeted spells before melting back into the woodlands. Their defensive strategy relied on making invasion too costly to sustain rather than stopping enemies at the borders.
Culturally, Xyi'vana'mir served as the continent's keeper of ancient lore. Their Great Library preserved not just books but the living memories of elders who had witnessed historical events firsthand. This oral tradition, combined with their natural magical affinity, made elven scholars the final arbiters of historical disputes and the guardians of forgotten knowledge.
Chapter 6: The Time of Shadows
The Corruption Spreads
The transformation of Ul'varh'mir from a beacon of hope to a source of continental dread did not happen overnight. Like a poison slowly working through a healthy body, corruption spread through the kingdom's institutions over the course of three generations.
It began with the noble houses. Inspired by King Valdron's apparent success with Saint's Blood, wealthy families began seeking the crimson-orange liquid for their own purposes. Unlike Valdron, who had at least claimed divine mandate for his transformation, these nobles pursued power for purely selfish reasons.
Lord Cassius Blackwater was the first noble to successfully undergo the transformation. His Motion allowed him to literally drain the life force from his enemies, leaving them as withered husks while strengthening his own body. Within a year of his transformation, Lord Cassius had eliminated three rival noble families and seized their lands under questionable legal pretexts.
Lady Seraphina Thornfield followed six months later. Her Motion granted her the ability to implant false memories in those she touched, allowing her to rewrite the past to suit her current needs. Court records from this period become increasingly unreliable as witness testimonies contradict each other in impossible ways.
The pattern continued as more nobles gained access to Saint's Blood through secret networks and hidden caches. Each transformation created another predator in the kingdom's highest circles. The common people, lacking both resources and protection, found themselves increasingly prey to the whims of monsters wearing noble faces.
The Resistance Forms
Not all of Ul'varh'mir's people accepted their kingdom's transformation into a den of predators. Resistance began in the countryside, where farming communities organized mutual defense pacts against noble extortion. These early groups, known as "Grain Circles," used traditional clan structures and agricultural cooperation networks to shield their members from the worst abuses.
In the cities, resistance took more subtle forms. Master craftsmen began producing inferior goods for noble patrons while reserving their finest work for common customers. Merchants developed coded languages for warning each other about dangerous nobles. Scholars in the Royal Academy quietly preserved accurate historical records while publicly supporting revised versions that portrayed the corrupted nobles as heroes.
The resistance gained a powerful ally when Captain Elena Brightshield, commander of the Royal Guard's Third Company, witnessed Lady Thornfield using her Motion to force a shopkeeper to "remember" owing her a massive debt. Elena's investigation revealed similar abuses throughout the capital, leading her to organize a secret network within the military to protect civilians from their own nobility.
The Brightshield Network, as it came to be known, operated for three years before discovery. Using their positions and training, loyal guardsmen documented noble crimes, spirited victims to safety, and occasionally arranged "accidents" for the worst predators. Their careful work saved hundreds of lives and preserved evidence that would later prove crucial for historians attempting to understand this dark period.
The Final Kings
The last two rulers of Ul'varh'mir represented the absolute nadir of the kingdom's moral collapse. King Mordred the Cruel inherited the throne after his father died in suspicious circumstances—specifically, after refusing to grant his son access to the royal cache of Saint's Blood. Mordred's Motion remains a subject of scholarly debate, but survivors of his reign described an ability to inflict precise, excruciating pain at a distance while keeping his victims conscious and aware.
Under Mordred's rule, the kingdom became a hunting ground where nobles competed to devise the most creative torments for their subjects. The king himself established "taxation through suffering"—a system where communities could pay their levies either in gold or by providing volunteers for his experimental torture sessions. Most chose poverty over participation, leading to widespread famine as productive communities fled to neighboring kingdoms.
King Ashtherion'vaur, Mordred's son and Ul'varh'mir's final ruler, somehow managed to be worse than his father. Where Mordred had been creatively cruel, Ashtherion was systematically genocidal. His Motion granted him the ability to mark individuals for death—anyone bearing his mark would eventually be found and killed by loyal minions regardless of how far they fled or how well they hid.
Ashtherion's reign lasted only two years, but during that time he managed to reduce Ul'varh'mir's population by nearly half. Entire bloodlines vanished overnight as the king systematically eliminated anyone who might pose a threat to his rule. The kingdom's economy collapsed as productive citizens fled or died, leaving only predators and their victims.
Chapter 7: The Beast Awakens - Vel'koda'mir
Origins of Aggression
The military state of Vel'koda'mir had not always been the continent's primary threat. In earlier centuries, they had been known as skilled defensive fighters who protected their mountain passes from monster incursions while maintaining peaceful relations with their neighbors. The transformation from protectors to conquerors began with a single catastrophic event: the Night of Screaming Stone.
Seven decades before their invasion of Ul'varh'mir, Vel'koda'mir experienced the worst monster attack in recorded history. A migration of Vro'bax'ul—normally solitary creatures—brought dozens of the massive beasts into populated valleys simultaneously. The standard defensive strategies failed catastrophically as the creatures' coordinated rampage overwhelmed traditional fortifications.
General Kresh'var's grandfather, Marcus Kresh'var the Elder, led the defense during that terrible night. His tactical brilliance saved the kingdom, but at a horrific cost. Nearly a quarter of Vel'koda'mir's population died in the fighting, including Marcus's wife, children, and everyone he had considered family outside his military brotherhood.
The trauma of that night transformed Vel'koda'mir's military philosophy. Marcus concluded that reactive defense was insufficient—true security required eliminating threats before they could organize. This doctrine, known as "Forward Security," became the foundation of Vel'koda'mir's increasingly aggressive foreign policy.
The Military Reforms
Under Marcus Kresh'var's leadership, Vel'koda'mir rebuilt itself as a professional military state. Every citizen received combat training, with the most talented entering the career officer track while others served in auxiliary roles. The kingdom's entire economy restructured around military needs, with civilian industries serving primarily to supply the armed forces.
These reforms produced the most effective military force on the continent. Vel'koda'mir's soldiers trained year-round in terrain-specific warfare, their officers studied historical battles from every known civilization, and their logistical systems could sustain extended campaigns far from friendly territory.
More importantly, the military developed new techniques for large-scale chakra and mana warfare. Traditional magical combat relied on individual practitioners casting spells or manipulating energy through personal skill. Vel'koda'mir's mage-engineers created formation techniques that allowed groups of less skilled practitioners to combine their power into devastating collective effects.
The "Steel Storm Formation" became their signature tactic—a coordinated barrage where hundreds of soldiers channeled chakra-enhanced projectiles into a single target area. Individual arrows or spears might be blocked by magical defenses, but no shield could withstand thousands of simultaneous impacts enhanced by collective military discipline.
The Artifact Collection
Vel'koda'mir's expansion campaigns served a dual purpose: conquest and collection. Intelligence reports suggested that General Kresh'var's true goal was not simply territorial expansion but the gathering of ancient artifacts for some larger purpose. Every conquered city had its temples and treasure houses thoroughly searched, with particular attention paid to any items dating from the Saint's original journey.
The general's private collection, housed in the depths of Vel'koda'mir's military headquarters, reportedly included artifacts from dozens of fallen civilizations. Elven memory crystals, dwarven soulforge weapons, human-crafted chakra amplifiers, and stranger items from less well-known cultures all found their way into his carefully organized vaults.
Some scholars theorized that Kresh'var sought to reassemble components of some greater artifact—perhaps something the Saint had scattered deliberately to prevent its misuse. Others suggested he was building an arsenal for a conflict far larger than mere continental conquest. The truth remained hidden in the general's closely guarded archives, accessible only to his most trusted subordinates.
Chapter 8: The Refugee Roads
The Great Flight
When Vel'koda'mir's armies finally broke Ul'varh'mir's last defenses, the kingdom's collapse happened with shocking speed. Cities that had stood for centuries fell within days as corrupted nobles either fled or switched sides rather than face the consequences of their cruelties. The common people, lacking protection or leadership, found themselves trapped between advancing armies and the monsters that emerged from abandoned territories.
The refugee exodus that followed became the largest population movement in continental history. Nearly two million people fled Ul'varh'mir's borders in less than six months, following whatever routes they could find to neighboring kingdoms. Most traveled on foot, carrying only what they could bear, leaving behind the accumulated wealth and culture of generations.
The journey proved almost as deadly as the war itself. Refugee columns stretched for miles along dangerous roads, moving too slowly to avoid pursuit and too large to feed adequately. Monsters attacked the weakest groups, bandits preyed on those carrying valuables, and disease spread rapidly through overcrowded temporary camps.
The "Children's March" became the most tragic chapter of the exodus. When adult refugees could no longer keep pace with the advancing armies, many families made the desperate decision to send their children ahead with whatever protection they could arrange. Thousands of children, some as young as five or six years old, joined groups of strangers and older children in hopes of reaching safety.
Most of these makeshift family groups never reached their destinations. Some fell to monsters, others to exposure and starvation. A fortunate few found adults willing to adopt them, creating new family bonds forged in shared trauma and mutual dependence.
The Mountain Welcome
Of all the neighboring kingdoms, Seleun'mhir proved most welcoming to Ul'varh'mir's refugees. The mountain confederation's culture of collective survival translated naturally into refugee assistance, as clan traditions emphasized helping those in desperate need regardless of their origins.
The decision to accept refugees was not unanimous. Some mining communities worried about resource depletion and cultural contamination. However, the Circle of Peaks voted overwhelmingly to open Seleun'mhir's borders after reports reached them of children dying in mountain passes that could have been made safe with proper preparation.
Thane Borin Ironforge, the confederation's military leader, organized the largest rescue operation in Seleun'mhir's history. Stone Guard units abandoned their usual monster-hunting duties to establish safe corridors through the mountain passes. Engineers worked around the clock to build temporary bridges, shelters, and water stations. Miners donated food, tools, and equipment to help refugees survive the journey.
The refugee camps that formed around Seleun'mhir's major settlements created new communities that blended mountain confederation traditions with Ul'varh'mir customs. These hybrid cultures would eventually produce innovations in both practical survival techniques and cultural expression that enriched the confederation far beyond any economic costs of refugee assistance.
The Closed Doors
Not every kingdom proved as welcoming. Val'kaz'ra, despite its vast wealth, declared that refugee assistance would disrupt critical trade routes and declined to accept any significant numbers of Ul'varh'mir survivors. Their border guards turned back refugee columns with warnings about "economic stability" and "cultural preservation."
Xyi'vana'mir faced internal divisions over refugee policy. The elven Council of Roots spent months debating the wisdom of accepting large numbers of shorter-lived humans into their carefully balanced forest communities. By the time they reached a decision to offer limited assistance, most refugee groups had already moved on to other destinations or died in the wilderness.
The smaller kingdoms and city-states generally lacked the resources to help even when they possessed the will. Their token assistance—a few days' food, basic medical care, directions to better-equipped neighbors—saved some lives but could not address the scale of the crisis.
This pattern of selective assistance created lasting political tensions that would influence continental relations for generations. Refugee survivors remembered both the kingdoms that had helped and those that had turned them away, passing these memories to their children as both gratitude and grudges that would shape future diplomatic relations.
Epilogue: The End of an Age
Legacy of Loss
By the time Vel'koda'mir's armies consolidated their control over former Ul'varh'mir territories, an entire civilization had effectively vanished. The kingdom that had once stood as a beacon of human achievement became a cautionary tale about the corrupting influence of power and the fragility of even the most stable institutions.
The survivors carried with them fragments of what had been lost. Refugee craftsmen preserved traditional techniques in their new homes. Scholars smuggled books and documents to safety, maintaining libraries in exile. Former soldiers of the Royal Guard found service with other armies, spreading Ul'varh'mir's military traditions to new defenders.
But much was lost forever. The Great Observatory fell dark, its astronomical equipment scattered or destroyed. The Royal Academy's advanced research programs ended as faculty fled or died. Most tragically, the kingdom's oral traditions—songs, stories, and cultural practices passed down through generations—began dying with their elderly carriers in refugee camps far from home.
Seeds of the Future
Yet from this devastation came the conditions that would eventually bring a lost astronaut to Vulcan. The refugee crisis destabilized traditional power balances, creating opportunities for new forms of cooperation and conflict. The mountain confederation of Seleun'mhir, strengthened by its refugee integration, would become a crucial ally in future struggles. The scattered survivors of Ul'varh'mir would provide knowledge and motivation for eventual resistance against Vel'koda'mir's expansion.
Most importantly, the collapse of traditional order created spaces where the unexpected could take root. In a world where ancient certainties had proven false, the arrival of someone from another world entirely might seem less impossible and more like the next chapter in an already unprecedented story.
The Chronicles End
This concludes the recorded history of Vulcan's continent of Riyeak in the age before Misaki Haruto's arrival. The world he would enter was one shaped by loss, transformation, and the endless resilience of those who survive catastrophe through hope and mutual aid.
The ancient Chinese had a curse: "May you live in interesting times." Vulcan, in the year of Misaki's arrival, was about to discover just how interesting times could become when destiny chose to write new chapters in the chronicles of a wounded world.
From the Archives of M'lod Village
Preserved by those who remember
Written for those who will carry the story forward
Appendix: Timeline Reference
~ 3,000 years before Misaki's arrival: The Saint's awakening of consciousness
~ 2,847 years before: First contact between races (Aelindra and Thorin)
~ 2,700-2,500 years before: Age of Discovery and trade route establishment
~ 2,400-2,200 years before: Great Library Era
~ 2,000-1,800 years before: The Founding Wars
~ 1,800 years before: Establishment of Ul'varh'mir under King Kaelan Ironhand
~ 1,800-1,000 years before: Golden Age of Ul'varh'mir
~ 800 years before: Beginning of corruption under King Valdron the Magnificent
~ 200-100 years before: Rapid moral collapse of Ul'varh'mir
~ 70 years before: Night of Screaming Stone (transformation of Vel'koda'mir)
~ 50-20 years before: Vel'koda'mir military reforms and expansion campaigns
~ 5 years before: Final collapse of Ul'varh'mir and the Great Refugee Crisis
Year 0: Misaki Haruto arrives on Vulcan
End of Chronicle