Humans

Humans are a people capable of the worst and the best

People of the Fleeing Times

Humans were born when Time itself began to ebb and flow, wandering remnants of an uncertain age. It was during the Fleeing Times, when Bellyem lay under the implacable yoke of the Chayatiem. Their presence stretched across all the lands, connecting the roots of the world.
But over the centuries, the Humans, frail and ephemeral, settled in the lands of the West. They lived in silence, cowering in fear of these beings whose power defied the laws of time and flesh. For the Chayatiem did not rule by war, but by their mere existence: they were there before, they would be there after. And so the Humans grew up without ever raising their swords, or even their eyes, to those they knew to be invincible. And one day, just one of them dared to step forward, rallying all the humans, their eyes raised to the Light.

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Adam's Children

Adam walked across the land, from south to north, searching for the egg on the broken horizon of the world. On his pilgrimage, he went from clan to clan, exploring the regions and cultures of each, and took a wife elevated to the title of Eva, from each lineage. He told each clan his story and whispered to them the true goal of humanity: to find the Egg of Ascendant Metamorphosis, so that light could reign once again.
Adam entrusted his Evas with the sacred task of engraving the truth on flesh itself. Thus were born the tattoos of the first days, bearing the words of light, inscribed on the skin of his descendants. He had so many children, scattered to the ends of the earth, that it is said that no man walks without carrying a part of Adam within him. He is the first, the invisible patriarch, the one whose blood flows in every human being.

Royal Families

The Royal Families, heirs to the immaculate blood of Adam, rule over the kingdoms of Chrystemis and Klaes, carrying with them the promise of the Egg and the glow of the first oath. Around them gravitate the lesser branches, distant nobles whose blood has weakened over the ages, yet still retaining an echo of their illustrious ancestry. Even further back, in the streets of Tyrinthius, live those whose lineage has been lost to oblivion, sometimes unwittingly bearing the ancient mark in a look or a latent strength. But only pure bloodlines are worthy of the crown, and only kings are the true sons of light.