Remove these ads. Join the Worldbuilders Guild

Silvarus

Created by

aganike

Far below the rocky abyss of Vivioda Imbren, deep in the halls of the Archiving Chambers, a large metallic contraption whirs relentlessly. On a desk next to it, in the pale blue light of busy screens, is a scattering of brittle papyrus. A magnifying device hovers over the collection, silently clicking and scanning every leaf of the old text. In the shadows sits a figure, hunched over a tablet of alphabets, typing:

From the Scribe's Archives: the Undaunted Knights of Duskfall
In the early years, much time had passed in the peace and mundanity of ordinary life for the humble folk of Silvarus. That is, until an event occurred; one that was etched into the annals of history by the name: the Colliding. The year was 1532. No one alive at that point of time had ever seen the red rock that appeared in the sky. It looked like their own silver moon, and it confounded scholars and leaders for months. But it didn’t spook the common folk for the longest time—until it came to be known that somewhere on their land, a door to all kinds of oblivion and terror had been unlocked. The panic then started to spread; every time this red moon rose, it unleashed a fear of darkness that seized the hearts of the commoners. The seeds of a certain danger, beyond a mortal’s imagination, began to be sowed—we now know this was the start of the end times. There were but some brave souls that dared to fight and bring back light in those dark times. A few whose names are still remembered, a few whose aren’t. The Undaunted Knights of Duskfall. I have chronicled their deeds in this book, to exemplify their lives and record their sacrifices. To remind ourselves, once again, of our indomitable strength, in unity. To attest to why we must extend our call for help across the ocean of time; to save the last of our civilization from our impendi—

The figure stops typing, interrupted by the contraption beeping excitedly. He hobbles over to its screen. "1 possible match found. Establish connection?" A flicker of hesitation later, he taps a button and returns to his desk, thoughts racing between hope and uncertainty. Behind him, the machine begins transmitting a message to a distant past.