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The rain came pouring from the sky as if the heavens wept for the loss. So many had fallen here, and yet it had all been for nothing. No one would learn from this mistake, there were no victors in this field of battle. This field held only lost lives, lost lives, and one boy who'd been hidden through it all with his father's sword in his hand, a sword with a crack in it from cross guard to tip. The boy held the blade as if it was a life line. He stumbled away toward the end of the field seeing figures with cloaks covering their bodies, his own friends in armor, and the beasts that had caused so much destruction that were smarter and larger than normal animals.

It was because of them that the enemy was called beasts. When in reality they were anthorians. A group who'd evolved from the beasts. They'd started a treaty with the civil countries five years ago and with the destruction of Maloria, the ancient gemstone that actually grew like a rose, had been carved down into several ring settings and been given to the five kings of Almoth, Naria, Sendian, Braxia, and Northalt. The five kings then destroyed the rest of the stone so no more would grow. It was a cutting from a special plant that had offshoots once every thousand years, and as such it was very rare. No two cuttings were the same. This had led to the Anthorian war as it would come to be called.

A wind picked up from the storm and started carrying the scent of blood and rain far away from the boy. It travelled far and fast, first across the paths the merchant's traveled then through Moria the land of farms and ranches, past Krotia the land of mines and smiths, through Entaria the home of magic and the mages enclave. All across the land the wind travelled until finally it lost sustenance in Kamia the great woodlands where rangers made their home. As the wind blew itself out a young girl walked away from the camp she'd made for her mentor and herself. The girl knew nothing of the war, as the rangers had chosen to abstain from spilling blood for either side. However the paths of fate are fickle, and this young woman's life would be torn asunder in a mere year, as the rangers were decimated and only three of the masters survived going into hiding and taking their young apprentices with them. The girl would be left on her own to continue the craft she'd trained in. But for now, the girl's knew nothing of the perils she would face, just as she knew nothing of the boy who had just fought in a war and survived defending only.

She walked into the woods to collect firewood and set up a pot of morning coffee for her mentor, this was her last year of apprenticeship so her tasks weren't nearly as menial as when she started learning from the youthful ranger Melanie. As she worked on gathering the wood for the fire and preparing breakfast for her mentor and herself the girl noticed the wind pick up yet again and start to fade off into the lands beyond the forest. Lands the beasts and Anthorians were believed to have come from.

The wind carried the smell of smoke as the girl lit her fire deep into Anthorian territory. It carried it across the Copathian Mountains, and through the dens of the Draconis, over the plains of the Palethians, through the scrub brush and desert of the Norani, into the cities of the Kentori. Throughout the streets to a brothel where a young girl was being sold into a life of servitude, little did anyone know the girl had saved enough to buy her freedom. She quickly did so and ran off to find respectable work, her feline traits blending in well with the Kitran the Kentori prided on having as palace workers and coveted for their blend of human and feline since so many were more like domestic cats than wild beasts. This particular girl wasn't a Kitran she was a Kitori. The Kitori were cousins to the Kitran but unlike their more docile cousins they were fighters and had wild traits rather than domestic.

The girl ran through the streets until she came to a caravan hiring traders and bartered her way aboard, never knowing the city would be raised to the ground within days and she'd saved herself from rape, slavery, or death. The destruction of this city, the Kentori city of Narekesh, would lead to a breaking of the alliance between the Kentori and Canorians. The Canorians would be blamed because it would be a Canorian noble who led the army that sacked the city. None realizing he was an exile that was being hunted from one end of the Canorian valley to the other. Alas this is just yet another step on the journey this wind would take, this time coated in the perfume of the brothel as it headed back to the north where the Riveran and Cantori lived. Both peoples the only humans accepted on this side of the mountains. All of them miners and smiths who built intricate machines that they sent back across the border.

The wind traveled to the small town of Ken Atesh. Ken Atesh was in the provinces of Riveran and as such was more mine town than technological hub like the Cantori cities and states. The wind blew through the streets of Ken Atesh picking up ash and dust along the road. Eventually it blew into a simple smithy where a young boy worked. He was only ten years old but large for his age, his muscles slightly bulging, his hammer pounding away, and his eyes bright with the idea of creating a new masterpiece. He knew nothing of the coming troubles that his master would save him from by naming him his apprentice. For he'd already avoided being in one war by being in his master's apprenticeship, though he hated making weapons he knew they were a necessity.

However our tail neither begins here, nor ends here. This is just a stop on the path of destiny that we're following. The wind is guiding us to our final resting place where our story will begin. It flows out from the shop and into the streets then back to the border where a young noblewoman who would be queen were it not for circumstances beyond her control and a prophecy that may mean the life or death of this world. Leaving a woman she sees as a sister who she loves, and a man she doesn't making each step harder than the last, until finally she gets a ride on a caravan headed into the land of beasts and their kin.

Our story starts with this woman's path. However it is her as of yet unseeded womb that truly holds our story. Her child will be the catalyst; he will either unite the world or feed it to the darkness. However that is years in the woman's future, and as such known only to the prophets who have seen a boy with dirty blonde hair and black tips, black wolf ears, a black fox tail with a red tip, and red tribal tattoos that blend with his black draconic wing, each of these traits given to him by his fathers, each father dead before his birth, each father's family denying him and his mother.

However our story does not revolve solely around the boy but also around several young women yet to be born, the soldier who has sworn to protect, the smith who has known so much work, the merchant girl who has a gift like no other, and a few beasts who will see the boy one of their own. These are the pathways of Destiny that control the strings of fate, and from the pathways will the world's end rise. The wind from before ripples around the women then fades off into nonentity as she falls asleep with a feed sack thrown over her for warmth. Never knowing that from her loins would spill the prophesied champion of beast and man alike.

Meanwhile even as the forces of light went about their days and built things preparing for the future the forces of darkness gathered on their own cursed isles. They were stocking up on cursed blades formed by draining the lifeblood from a body and using it to coat the blade as it was forged. The blades caused death with a single touch, a slow and progressive death, but death nonetheless. The true beasts lived here, twisted and warped by spells and dark magic.

Some of these creatures included winged serpents as tall as a man that sucked the life force out of their victim and had siren's song come spewing from there lipless faces. Minotaurs with wings of bats some too small to support their own weight, others large enough to easily carry the weight of their owner and a passenger. There were also twisted creatures that looked like someone had sewn together dogs, cats, deer, cattle, equines, and even aquatic creatures together. There were a few humans here and there, but it was rare for any of the creatures to be a single creature. Many of the humans had animal heads attached to their arms, or animal limbs. This was an island of evil and chaos.

It was also the tamest of the five islands in this archipelago. It was where prisoners were held. The other four islands were much worse, and it was from one of these islands that another wind was blowing. The wind carried the scent of Carrion, decay, and even a small bit of blood. This wind was leading the paths of the creatures meant to hunt those chosen by the gods and destroy them. This wind originated on Milek Isle. This was the home of Darkus Fang, lord of rot and destruction, Sealer of the gods. However, he himself was sealed to his throne by a hero long ago. Sadly doing so had corrupted magic. The hero stated one day magic would cleanse itself, however with the help of the true hero who would end Darkus' reign once and for all. So he waited for his adversary, planning to corrupt or destroy him whatever the cost. Since this had been a battle throughout time, and would continue until the end of time.