Xyo_

The Kingdom of Helloria was once bound by the sacred Orūzh, its power upheld by the three tenets of existence: Zūhren, Kaelth, and Væsh. When the great schism fractured the land, its roots were severed, each brother carving a fragment to forge their dynasties. The purity of the Orūzh’s power was lost to greed, and the land withered under war, famine and ruin.

Yet deep within the untamed wilds of Velloria, the last of the Hellorian Laza endure. The keepers of forgotten wisdom live among the whispering flora, guarding the remnants of the Orūzh. 

A daughter of the Væsh Laza, Xymóra was born in blood and shadow, her arrival marked by the deaths of those sworn to protect her. Yet, when she is told she must never set foot beyond the bridge, she knows she will.

The Last Keeper of the Orūzh

The toll of the bell announcing Emperor Yaxūla's death echoed through the land, and Helloria fell into an eerie, breathless silence. The kingdom, once a symbol of unity, now felt the weight of its uncertainty.

As the courtiers and cardinals gathered, the air was thick with tension. It was customary for the royal family to unite and choose the next ruler, but this time, the decision would not come easily. The kingdom's very foundation seemed to tremble as each son vied for his right to rule.

Læond, the second son, was the first to make his claim. A brute of a man, scarred from wars fought in distant lands, his strength had earned him respect among the generals and warriors of Helloria. "I am the one who knows how to protect this kingdom," Læond declared with unwavering conviction. "The land needs a ruler who understands the harshness of the world. Strength is the only thing that will keep us united."

Yet, Læond was not the only one who believed himself to be the rightful heir. Vel, the eldest, a scholarly and pious man, stood firm in his claim. His devotion to the cardinal values, the very principles that had guided the kingdom for generations, made him believe that only a leader who understood the deep spiritual balance could restore the kingdom's peace. "The Kingdom requires wisdom, not brute strength," Vel proclaimed. "Only I can uphold the legacy of our ancestors."

As these two brothers clashed, the youngest twins, Raymor and Claymor, stepped forward, draped in opulence. Theirs was a vision far beyond the others. They saw a kingdom not in need of strength or wisdom alone but of wealth and indulgence. They envisioned a future of luxury and prosperity, where the land would be moulded for its civilian pleasure. "We will build a future beyond your petty divisions," they argued. "The Kingdom deserves a life of abundance, not one defined by struggle or old traditions. We will lead Helloria into an age of luxury and progress."

The disagreement between the brothers was more than just a matter of words. It was a clash of ideals, and soon it spread across the kingdom. The civilians, once united in their loyalty to the Emperor, now found themselves divided. Some followed the might of Læond, while others rallied to Vel's traditional values. The promise of wealth and indulgence promised by Raymor and Claymor drew many to their side, especially those eager for a brighter future, free of the hardships of the past.

The kingdom fractured. The rivers, once flowing smoothly through the land, now ran in separate directions, carving new paths through the land's changing face. The verdant forests, once revered and untouched, were now scarred by the ambitions of the factions. The hills and valleys, once rich with life and harmony, became battlegrounds for the divided kingdoms. Civilian and militant forces alike chose their sides, some for ideals, others for personal gain. What remained certain was that Helloria, once unified and strong, was now irreparably fractured, its future uncertain as the three new kingdoms, Vellora, Læondale and the Moores began their ascent to power.

The Great Chism