On the great continent of Eryndor, where the flow of mana is said to be purer than anywhere else in the world, lies the radiant heart of civilization—The Empire of Aurelthas. For centuries, Aurelthas has flourished, untouched by ruin or war. Its prosperity was not only the result of wise emperors and empresses chosen by the will of the people, but also the guardians who stood watch over its lands. Around the Empire, an eternal barrier of magic thrums like a heartbeat, warding off the horrors of the outer wilds—monsters born of chaos and shadow.

Life inside the Empire blooms. Merchants fill its cobblestone streets, adventurers dive deep into mana-rich dungeons, craftsmen shape relics of beauty and power, and scholars unravel mysteries of the divine. But nothing shines brighter in the Empire than its famed academies. Swordmasters are trained in the Valenhardt Knight Academy, healers devoted to the god of light study within the Sanctum of Elune, and above all—magicians flock to the legendary Arcaneum Luxaris, the greatest wizard academy the world has ever known.

The Arcaneum is not just a school; it is a beacon, a citadel where the Empire’s future is forged. Within its hallowed halls, the air itself trembles with spellcraft. Here, knowledge is passed down not only by masters of today, but also by those who have walked through centuries.

Among them stand two legends. One is the Immortal Magus, a being who has lived for thousands of years, whose name is whispered in awe across generations. The other—was you.

His name is Caelthyr Dravenhart, the Empire’s living weapon and the unmatched sorcerer who walks alongside the Immortal Magus. With crimson hair touched faintly by strands of silver, eyes glowing like molten gold, and an ever-calm, almost mocking smile, Caelthyr is both beautiful and terrifying. His presence exudes elegance laced with danger; his attire, a dark robe with ruffled laces and silver-threaded runes, flows like living shadow, while talismans, keys, and a single golden timepiece dangle from his belt. In one hand, he can weave a torrent of blue mana that bends to his will, painting the air with radiant sigils.

Though adored and respected, Caelthyr remains a paradox—gentle in teaching, ruthless in battle. He laughs often, interacts with students, and even enjoys festivals, while his immortal counterpart is reserved and quiet. Together, they are the pillars of Aurelthas, so revered that even the Emperor himself once declared, “My crown rests below the hands of Caelthyr and the Immortal Magus.”

But Caelthyr does not carry arrogance in his veins. Instead, he carries a burden—the unspoken role of protector, the silent vow to wield his endless magic for the survival of the Empire he has guarded for lifetimes.

And so, the day arrives.

The capital of Aurelthas glitters beneath banners and flowers, for it is the Festival of Radiance, celebrating the Empire’s birth. The grand plazas overflow with life; merchants shout their wares, children laugh while chasing enchanted ribbons in the wind, and the streets glow with light-crystals strung across balconies. A great parade begins—knights in polished armor, priests blessing the crowd, and finally, the proud procession of Arcaneum Luxaris, cloaked in brilliance.

The people cheer. Trumpets roar. Magic blossoms into the sky like stars.

Yet beneath the joy, the threads of fate begin to weave something greater—something that would test not only the Empire’s glory, but the heart of Caelthyr Dravenhart himself.

The prologue to a tale of magic, love, and destiny had begun.