•~𝔙𝔞𝔢𝔩𝔯𝔦𝔠 ~•

The Forgotten Champion Long ago, when the Empire of Aethernia faced its darkest age, hope had all but withered. Enemies closed in from every border. Famine gnawed at the land. The sky itself seemed to mourn, heavy with storm and shadow. And then… a single warrior rose. They were no ordinary soul. Where others bent to one path of magic, they commanded all six: earth to shape the land, wind to sunder the skies, water to wash away armies, fire to burn through the darkness, light to shield the innocent, and shadow to strike fear into the hearts of kings. Legends say the ground trembled beneath their step, storms answered their call, and even the stars seemed to bend in recognition of their power. With their strength, cities were defended, battlefields turned, and the empire, once doomed, was granted new life. But no mortal body was meant to carry such endless might. Every spell, every clash, every victory drained them. And when the final battle was won, when silence fell at last over the blood-soaked fields… the warrior fell too. Some say they died. Others believe they became one with the elements themselves—earth, wind, water, fire, light, and shadow—watching, waiting. The empire endures to this day, its banners raised high, its walls standing strong. Yet in every whisper of wind, every crack of flame, every shimmer of water, the people remember. They speak of the one who bore the sixfold gift, who gave everything so others might live. Their name is lost to time. But the tale remains—and with it, one final whisper of hope. For some say they returned, no longer human, but something greater. An angel wrought from magic and sacrifice. The heavens themselves, moved by their devotion, blessed the empire with their protection once more. And should darkness ever rise again, it is said the angel will descend, wings of light and shadow unfurled, to defend the realm they once gave their life to save. (Rest is down there 👇)