Prologue
-----------
"The Essence's magic has no sole master; it bonds with those who respect its will, yet eludes those who seek to dominate it."
~ Excerpt from the Genesic Arcana of the Quadrant Academy.
------------
PROLOGUE:
At the edges of the galactic realms, a cataclysmic war once roared ferociously.
Under the impact of belligerent forces aiming to rewrite the very laws of the universe, the stars trembled powerlessly. Long whispered among the stars and stubbornly concealed by those who feared its revelation, the legend refused to die.
Persistent and eternal, it waited like a phoenix, biding its time to rise from its ashes.
* THE ODE OF THE PHOENIX *
From glittering portals emerged metallic monoliths, gliding with strange grace through a graveyard of celestial debris. Atop each vessel, banners from various fleets united under a single emblem—a symbol of worlds allied against an imminent threat. The wake of these ships tore through the cosmos, their cannons releasing violent bursts of energy that shattered the dark void, all while crashing against an unyielding barrier protecting a structure nestled in the cradle of a small meteorite.
The fortress, once a colonial outpost during yet another space conquest, was now surrounded by a powerful magical barrier that seemed impenetrable.
At the heart of this celestial fortress stood a being, the Oxænï, enveloped in a pulsating aura so radiant it rivaled the sum of the stars. Her reputation preceded her: the dreadful Shadow Phoenix, scourge of celestial bodies, the enemy of the allied worlds who brazenly defied the known laws of matter and energy.
Few images of this entity had survived; those that did captured the fierce gaze of amethyst eyes and ash-colored hair, projecting the savage ferocity of a predator lurking in the shadows.
Around her, the very fabric of space seemed to bend, yielding to her indomitable will. With a motion of her arms, she erected magical barriers, wielded ethereal shields, and with a mere gesture, annihilated her enemies in a dazzling display of power.
The Essence, the primordial whisper of the cosmos, flowed through her, its arcane pulse manifesting in every movement.
Flanking the Oxænï stood six figures, high mages forming a perfect hexagon. Each extended their arms into the void, their energies impeccably synchronized with their leader.
Complex glyphs encircled their palms, reinforcing the formidable barrier that defied all understanding. Raw, untamed Essence burst forth, tearing through the void, creating waves that devoured everything in their path, transforming what was once a sanctuary of planets into a vision of infernal desolation.
The battle stretched into eternity, a relentless passage marked by the weight of countless lost lives—a toll borne by one side alone. Yet, the magnitude of what was at stake rendered these details trivial: the destruction of the Oxænï was paramount for the continued survival of many worlds.
Her cataclysmic force, an affront to the cosmic balance, demanded intervention. In the besieged vessels, mages, gripped by despair and panic, drew upon every fragment of their magic, battling the relentless assault. Their efforts seemed futile against the ceaseless tide of Oxænï's power.
Death swept through their ranks by the thousands as the allied forces faltered, their coordination collapsing as ships lost contact amid the chaos. In a defining moment, the Oxænï raised her hands to the sky, gathering a whirlwind of light that formed a dazzling halo.
Her cry, piercing the clamor of battle, heralded the release of a concentrated magic effusion. Beams of luminous energy sprang forth, reducing her assailants to dust.
As the dust settled and the echoes of destruction faded, a subtle smile touched Oxænï's lips—a smile of inevitable triumph. Had her enemies witnessed this feat from afar, captivated by their screens? They had no choice but to submit if they wished to avoid her relentless domination. Henceforth, no one would dare challenge her.
However, in her moment of triumph, an insidious unease took hold of her, unnoticed until it was too late. A shiver ran down her spine as her gaze fell on her six allies. A fleeting doubt crossed her mind before being confirmed by their shifting shadows, desynchronized and moving with cryptic intent.
Suddenly, the symphony of their unity broke into discord. A chilling rhythm of betrayal emerged, a blade stealthily slipping into her back. She sensed its presence, inevitable and profound. Almost in unison, the six figures lowered their hands, their glyphs transforming into chains of energy that surged towards their leader.
The Oxænï barely had time to register her astonishment before the chains tightened, binding her power and silencing her commands. A collective incantation rose from her traitors, each word weaving a deadly verdict.
Their combined magics struck with lethal force, their spell a death blow to the phoenix. A poignant cry tore through the battlefield, a melody of despair. Consumed by the very magic that had once protected her, the Oxænï fell, surrounded by the traitors tightening like a vise.
Her last breath, a mix of agony and disbelief, whispered a solitary question into the silent cosmos: "Why...?" As she disintegrated into a luminous cascade, her form consumed by betrayal, the silent stars above bore witness to the tragedy.
Although the drama ended, its echoes would resonate through time as an immortal saga. Yet, on the cosmic winds, a faint whisper promised, "From the ashes, I shall rise..."
The wait began. The rebirth of the Oxænï was only a matter of time.