The Primordial Record

Staff squeezed her fists in exasperation, "So, it's true, with how massive Reality is, I doubt I will be able to see all the dimensions inside of it before I die, even if I live forever, and you are telling me there are multiple Realities outside this one. How can something like that even work?"

"Well, have you ever wondered where Primordials come from and how they are able to do the things they can do?" Rowan replied, "There has always been a higher mountain; it is just that the sight of most is usually too weak to find them."

Staff shook her head, her eyes glowing, "Rowan, don't you see, this changes everything. If there are other Realities out there, we do not need to dance to the tunes of the Primordial; no matter how powerful they are, we all can leave for another place and leave all the chaos behind."

"I wish this were to be the case, even I wish for this to be the change," Rowan's Incarnation chuckled sadly, "but there are many reasons why fleeing from this problem is not possible, and it will take too long for me to list them all out for you."

Staff went silent for a while before making a self-deprecating chuckle, "Well, I don't need to worry myself too much about the future, no matter what I experience and fight in my lifetime, it will be nothing to the challenges you need to conquer. I am too small to see the entire scale of Reality, and I no longer envy your power, Rowan."

"You are not too small Staff," Rowan replied with a bit of sadness in his voice, "No one is, we all are just born in an Era where there are too many powerful predators roaming existence, and we have to make do with what we have, fight with all we are, and die knowing we have made a difference, no matter how slight it is."

"If you say so, Rowan, then I will choose to believe you. But promise me something: If I can make a wave with my limited abilities, I expect you to raise a storm."

She sensed the Incarnation smiling,

"You have no idea what is coming."

®

The Elythrii had been on the path towards their next destination, gathering countless valuable data along the way, and they had seen so much that blew their minds away, because of the simple fact that there was such a diverse number of life in a Reality that smelled decayed.

Kaelen had likened this realm to a decaying corpse filled with countless vermin who were busy devouring its flesh, and this sentiment was echoed by a lot of the Elythrii, although this did not stop them from being amazed at what they were finding along their journey.

The most prevalent finding was the sort of Essence and Energy that powered this realm. They knew its name to be Aether, and a more complex form of it was Aetherium.

This Energy was far less powerful and complex than what was available inside the realm of the Elythrii, but this advantage meant nothing when they realized how ancient this realm was and the countless powerhouses within that could wipe out their entire civilization in the blink of an eye.

They quickly realized that this realm had an advantage over their own, and that was they had the time to develop to this point while having the backing of several supreme places of power called Primordial Domains, of which there were several, and all of them had rulers that may equal or even exceed the power of their Creator.

The only consolation they had was that the flow of time inside this realm was dead. Its essence was shattered piecemeal, and its flow was excessively rapid yet still stagnant with no overall will presiding over it.

A single day in this realm could be decades on Elython, even centuries, as powerful Elythrii could commune with the Ether and bring forth changes with the flow of time, but this was not applicable here.

The Elythrii knew that this was the chance for them to be able to one day stand on equal footing with this realm, which was necessary because the Elythrii had come to realize that while they were largely unaware of this realm, the same thing could not be said of the inhabitants of this realm who were catching glimpses of Elython through multiple weird wormholes in the fabrics of space and time.

They were calling Elython, the Land of Origin, and the inhabitants of this entire realm were searching for the passage into their realm!

The Elythrii treasured their realm and wanted to defend it, especially when they saw the state of this reality and the dangers that could be found within. Nowhere in this realm was safe!

They had not been in this realm for long, but the Aether in the air reeked of death and desolation, of countless pervasity and suffering on a scale that nearly drove some of the more empathetic members of the Elythrii to madness.

If they allowed the inhabitants of this realm to find their way into Elython, they would bring the endless waves of madness and destruction into their realm. All that was good would be lost, and the Elythrii would be no more.

It did not take long for them to crunch the numbers involving timelines and dimensional barriers, and they came up with a frightening conclusion: This realm had been looking for a way to enter theirs long before the Elythrii even existed.

Time was incredibly stagnant in this realm, so it was easy to calculate that these wormholes into their realm were present long before Elython existed, which was an extremely troubling matter.

This journey instantly transformed from one of exploration to a plan for their defense. What they needed to do was to find a way to close these portals linking to their realm, but to do that a more robust understanding of the power system of this realm was needed and with this goal at the forefront the Elythrii began to gather data at a furious rate, no longer wasting any single moment in their attempt to enjoy the experience of entering a new realm.

However, for the past few months, there has been a constant call sweeping across this reality. On the map of the Creator, a waypoint had appeared that vibrated with a frequency of immense, destructive potential.

As always, there was no urge to follow this signal; this Reality was theirs to explore at their wish, but whatever it was they were sensing, it was powerful enough that its influence could be felt across the entire realm.

When they recognized that this call was so potent that it drove the countless inhabitants of this realm who had long been looking for ways to enter their own towards it, it became crucial that they needed to check whatever was causing this commotion.

Lyra led six of her people with her to journey towards this call, while the rest were tasked with finding the roots of these wormholes and figuring out how to close them.

Lyra and the six transformed their bodies into tall, slender, elf-like bodies, adorned with intricate, living wood-and-bone armor, copying one of the races from the Primordial Domain of the Land of Miracles.

Journeying across Reality, they came to a dimension filled with jagged crystalline landscape, and they were about to bypass it when a tremor, not through the ground but through the fabric of reality itself, made them all freeze.

It was a deep, subsonic thrum that vibrated in their teeth and set the crystalline spires around them ringing with a discordant, mournful choir.

Something in the depths of this dimension had caught sight of the Elythrii, and this sound was an acknowledgment that they had been seen.

Lyra did not back down. If they had been seen, then they had no choice but to proceed and see what lay ahead on this path. They did not fear death and had resigned themselves to perishing along the way; there were many who would take their place behind them.

Heading deeper into the dimension, they came across a path that led them down from the high spires into a treacherous pass that resembled a graveyard of gods, because this place was filled with the bones of fallen deities that were petrified into mountains.

It was here that the air changed again. The ozone sharpened, crackling with raw power, and the cold became an aggressive, life-sucking force.

A shadow, vast and impossible, fell over them. They looked up, weapons rising as one.

Coiling around the highest peak was a serpentine form of purest white, its scales like polished alabaster, each the size of a small mountain. Wings of ragged, frost-rimed membrane folded against its body. Its eyes were orbs of scarlet desolation, holding an ancient hunger that knew no limit.

It was a bone white dragon.

"I smell something familiar," the voice of the dragon rumbled.