Primodials: The Lost Legacy
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The candles flickered low, though none dared touch them.
The Seer's voice deepened, soaked now in sorrow and awe—as if each word carried the weight of a world half-remembered.
> "Velunir returned not as a man—but as a calamity incarnate."
Her fingers curled as if remembering the shape of fire itself.
> "He crossed the shattered lands in silence, and the skies wept where he walked. Stars blinked out. Rivers dried to ash. For he no longer breathed the air of men—he exhaled rot, ruin… and hunger."
Asteria stepped closer, eyes wide. The flame at his fingertips pulsed brighter.
> "And Elarion?"
The Seer nodded once.
> "He stood ready. But he knew—power alone would not win the day. Not even the world's voice could silence what the Nether had birthed."
> "So he chose four."
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The Birth of the Primordials
> "From four tribes scattered across the land, he summoned the strongest. But not just in might—in spirit."
A faint hum passed through the chamber. The runes along the walls flared in quiet recognition.
> "To the warrior of the forests, he gave the power of earth—steady, unbreakable."
> "To the child of the rivers, he gave the power of water—fluid, wise, enduring."
> "To the flame-keeper of the southern sands, he gave the power of fire—fierce, untamed."
> "To the wind-dancer of the peaks, he gave the power of air—swift, unseen, free."
She paused then.
> "But not lightning. Not yet. For lightning… is born when all four meet in storm."
Asteria blinked, as if understanding a piece of himself for the first time.
> "They were the first Primordials," the Seer whispered. "Champions not of nations… but of balance."
> "And when they stood with Elarion against Velunir—the earth itself trembled."
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> "Their battle tore through mountains. Turned skies red. Forests withered in its wake, and oceans howled with fury."
> "For every blow Velunir struck, the world screamed."
But the five stood strong.
> "They could not kill him. He was no longer tethered to life as mortals know it."
> "But they could seal him."
> "They struck him down—not to destroy, but to seal. Using magic not seen before or since. Magic carved from the heart of the earth… and sealed with the First Prime's blood."
She touched the center of her palm.
> "Elarion cut his own life's thread into the spell. A binding woven through soul, not words."
> "And over his prison… they built this place."
There was a long silence.
Until—
> "This palace?" Seri asked, voice quiet. "This exact palace?"
The Seer met her eyes. There was no hesitation.
> "Yes, child. This mountain, this throne—everything above us—was raised as a cage. And all who came after… forgot why it stood."
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The Aftermath
> "Elarion became the first Prime and the first King—not to rule, but to watch."
> "The four warriors returned to their tribes. Not as heroes, but as guardians."
> "They all combined their powers and sealed their homeland, this kingdom with magic drawn from the battle—warding the kingdom from the outside world, hiding it in the seams of forgotten realms."
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The candles crackled softly.
The Seer's voice was a stream of memory now—no longer a story, but a river of truth flowing through centuries of silence.
> "As generations passed, the echoes of the great war faded."
> "But not its consequences."
Her fingers traced invisible circles in the air.
> "The elemental gifts… remained."
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> "The warriors who once fought beside the Prime returned to their homelands. Their descendants—marked by that ancient bond—began to awaken the same power."
> "Earth shaped the Stonekin of the West—builders and guardians whose bodies grew as strong as the cliffs they lived upon."
> "Water whispered through the Riverborn—healers, tacticians, and weavers of unseen depths."
> "Flame danced in the hearts of the Emberclans—fierce, proud, and full of spirit."
> "And Air blessed the Skybound—agile, swift, and dreamers by blood."
> "Soon, children were born with the element of their tribe flowing in their veins."
But not all.
> "Some children were born… quiet."
> "No flame. No wave. No wind. No stone."
Seri leaned forward. "Elementless?"
The Seer nodded.
> "No. Not empty. Dormant."
> "Their magic was not of the four. But raw—unchanneled. And as they trained, their bodies absorbed it, forged it."
> "They became warriors whose strength could rival the elemental wielders. Their strikes cracked stone. Their eyes glowed with inner force. Not mages, but conduits."
Asteria murmured, "So even the quiet ones had power."
> "Yes. And then came the royalborns."
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> "From Elarion's bloodline, the First Prime, a line of kings rose—each blessed with power from birth."
> "Unlike the tribes, whose children bore one gift—these royalborns… held two."
Asteria's brow furrowed. "Two?"
> "Yes," the Seer whispered. "Fire and air. Earth and water. Lightning and stone."
> "It was said their souls remembered the unity of the first war—and so the elements listened to them more completely."
> "Each generation, one child from the Prime's bloodline would rise—a new Prime. Meant to guide. To protect. To remind the world what balance meant."
She looked away now, voice tightening.
> "But over time… kings forgot."
> "They turned the throne into a weapon, not a burden. The elements became a symbol of authority, not harmony."
> "And the truth… was buried beneath stone and silence."
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Asteria clenched his fists. "But why me? You said I'm not royalborn. I wasn't raised in a palace."
The Seer looked at him with eyes older than memory.
> "And yet… you are."
He stilled.
Seri's eyes widened.
> "What?"
The Seer inhaled slowly.
> "Long ago, after the last war fractured the kingdom's borders… there was a king. A proud one. Born of the Prime's blood, gifted with storm and fire."
> "But he was cruel."
> "He had many children within the palace—noble, trained, pampered. But outside the golden halls… he had another."
Who was shuned for being a bastard. The boy grew into a man.
And one day on a mission for his father the king, he met a woman of the fire tribe. Innocent and loved to live alongside nature—they fell in love.
The chamber darkened slightly, as if the truth itself cast shadows.
> "A child born to the woman. A warrior and healer with eyes like sunset and a soul strong enough to tame even a king's wrath."
> "They met by accident. By fate. In secret places where war didn't reach. And there, love grew."
Asteria's heart pounded in his chest.
> "But the court could not know. The council feared the mixing of royal and tribe."
> "So the woman was hidden. The boy… raised far away."
> "That boy… was you."
Asteria's knees felt weak.
> "But… I never knew my father. My mother—she died when I was young."
The Seer nodded gently.
> "Your father died not long after—cut down in a border skirmish. The kingdom mourned a Prince. But none wept for his hidden son."
> "Your mother raised you until the sickness took her. But by then, the bond had already formed."
> "The flame within you had awakened."
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The Lost Prime
> "You, Asteria… are the lost heir of the Prime's bloodline. Hidden. Uncrowned. Unclaimed."
Only one born with the memory of all four could awaken lightning. That… is why it chose you."
She stepped closer now, voice almost reverent.
> "You are the next Prime."
Asteria could barely speak. The flame at his hand pulsed brighter than ever—but it did not burn him. It hummed with recognition.
Seri stared at him in awe. "So he… really is the one."
> "Always knew there was something strange about you."
The Seer's voice echoed one last time:
> "The blood that sealed Velunir flows in your veins, Asteria."
> "And only your blood… holds the power to release him from his prison."
Asteria's breath caught.
His entire life—every question, every strange fire that answered his fear—made sense now.
But it also meant he carried the weight of a world forgotten.
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