Slops

In the world of Aera, the sky no longer exists. It vanished centuries ago, taking with it the warmth of the sun and the light of the moon. What remains are floating islands, drifting above an endless chasm, surrounded by a mist that devours everything that falls into it. The world beneath is forgotten—only the inhabitants of the islands survive, clinging to what little they can.

The fall of the sky brought a cataclysm that shattered the world, leaving only fragments of the past. No one truly understands what caused it, but the legends speak of an ancient power, long lost to time. Some say it was a war between gods, others claim it was a mistake made by the people themselves. All that remains are the broken pieces, scattered across the world in the form of mysterious relics, each holding untold power.

The survivors live in the shadow of the sky’s absence, their lives shaped by the struggle to survive in a world that no longer makes sense. And in the midst of it all, a young girl named Lira is about to discover that the past is not as far behind as it seems. The secrets of the sky still linger, and the forces that seek to control it will stop at nothing to claim the power it holds.

The Skyless World

The trembling of the ground grew stronger as Lira and Cael exchanged tense glances. Dust rained down from the fractured ceiling of the old library, and faint murmurs filled the air, as if the very stones around them remembered a time when Velmora had been alive.

"We need to move," Cael urged, stepping closer to Lira, who was still clutching the glowing book.

Reluctantly, Lira closed the ancient tome, wrapping it in a piece of cloth she pulled from her pack. As soon as she did, the vibrations lessened, but the feeling of being watched only grew stronger.

They slipped out of the crumbling structure and back into the mist-laden streets. Shapes loomed in the fog—ruined statues, broken wells—but now they seemed almost… aware.

"It's like the whole village is breathing," Lira whispered, her hand resting lightly on her dagger.

Following instinct more than reason, they made their way toward the center of Velmora again, where the sigil on the ground had first drawn Lira's attention. To their shock, the sigil was no longer dormant. It pulsed with a soft, blue light, and from it, ghostly figures began to emerge—transparent forms dressed in the garb of a long-lost civilization.

The figures did not notice Lira and Cael. Instead, they seemed to replay scenes from a time long ago: laughter, trading goods, children running through the streets. But then, the vision shifted. Black shadows fell over the village, and screams tore through the illusion as unseen forces destroyed everything.

"What is this?" Lira breathed, unable to tear her eyes away.

Cael shook his head. "A memory. Or a warning."

Among the swirling ghosts, one figure turned—an old woman with piercing eyes that seemed to look directly at Lira. In a voice barely more than a whisper, she spoke:

Then the vision shattered, leaving only silence and the dying pulse of the sigil behind.

Lira stood frozen, the warning echoing in her mind.

They had to move faster. Whatever was coming, it was closer than they thought.

Echoes Beneath the Stone