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Name: Nyx'Lirath
The Star, The Forsaken
Basic Information:
Species: Astraeth (Star Dragon)
Gender: Non-binary (Masculine)
Age: Unknown.
Reincarnated through the final act of Veridia'Kal, a being who gave their life to grant him a second chance.
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Personality Traits:
Diet & Survival:
Diet:
Absorbs various forms of radiation to sustain itself:
Immortal, but can be injured. If killed, reforms at the host star. Will die in one month without a new star to bind.
Habits & Quirks:
Weaknesses:
Physical Characteristics:
Obsidian black with star-like patterns.
Resting color palette: Red, Crimson, Black, Gold.
Antlers:
Crystalline and glowing with cosmic energy.
Wings:
Four feathered wings, dark with glowing accents.
Scales:
Thick, light-sensitive scales that change based on light and cosmic energy.
Body Structure:
Slim, agile, built for speed and endurance.
Accessories:
Virelithe – Halo
A glowing, radiant halo that rests behind its head and shoulders. It appears like a massive, swirling sun constantly shifting in color and intensity. The Virelithe is a direct manifestation of the Shattered Luminary, and serves as a powerful but unstable conduit of energy. It can summon tools such as the Virelithe Discblade and Virelithe Shatterblade, when needed.
Excerpt from Major Events – The Shattered Luminary:
"When I reached for the shattered pieces of the Luminary, I knew that it was no longer just a force of light. It was something I could wield. The Virelithe became a part of me, a halo that radiates with the unstable power of the Shattered Luminary. I've never used its full potential—only in the most desperate of times, when the stakes are too high and the cost too great to ignore. The energy it grants is both a gift and a curse, and I walk a fine line between creation and destruction every time I call upon it."
Equipment:
Virelithe:
The Virelithe is a luminous halo of radiant energy that hovers behind his head and shoulders. It represents the balance between creation and destruction, channeling fragments of the Shattered Luminary to form tools and items of great utility. These
(The Virelithe weapons are in the semi-anthro tab)
Virelithe Inhibitor Cables
Cables wrap around the wings, restricting movement and blocking access to the Virelithe's power. Only allies can remove or loosen them.
Semi-Anthro Stance:
In this form, gravity manipulation increases the mass and stability of the wings, allowing for a digitigrade posture. This enhances balance and agility for combat and mobility.
Weapons
Virelith -Remnants of the Shattered Luminary, Virelithe was not crafted—but claimed. During the entity's collapse Ireached into its chaotic core and pulled fragments of unstable cosmic light into themselves. It is
A manifestation of that moment: fractured echoes of a dying brilliance, reshaped by will and instinct. It is
not just a tool, but living remnants of what was lost—and what was taken.
Virelithe –Discblade:
It hovers and is controlled with gravity magic, acting almost like a saw, it looks like a dual sided dagger with curved blades.
Additionally can be used as Quadrupedal (Feral)
Virelithe –Shatterblade:
A jagged, unstable energy blade formed from the Virelithe
"The blade is not broken. It remembers."
The blade can be shattered into fragments, which can be controlled and launched using gravity magic. The fragments can be used to create barriers, attack from multiple angles, or intercept attacks.
Abilities & Powers:
Powers (Require Active Effort):
Impressions
Sensory echoes perceived through cosmic resonance. Impressions are not thoughts or emotions, but instinctive responses to energy patterns.
The Shardwake Rift (Anomaly) — Time distortion layered over fracture space. Cold echoes. Fragments of decision spiral endlessly.
The Solar Forge (Point Of Interest)
A blinding furnace of molten star-forged energy. Flashes of intense radiation burst out, shaping new stars in the heart of a massive, searing nebula. I feel heat radiating through me, almost as if my very essence could be forged here. Yet, it's too powerful to control, too unpredictable. The energy churns and pulses with unrelenting fire, raw creation from chaos.
Oathwell Abyss (Void)
No light returns. Even thought slips at the edge. A silence so total, it drowns time. Stars remember it only through recoil. My presence is not registered. I am nothing here.
The Infernal Star (Leviathan)
The heat is too much, yet it draws me in. It's the hunger of an endless flame, consuming all in its path. I feel like I'm burning from the inside.
The Eternity Rift (Warp)
Time bends and warps—motion stalls, then rushes all at once. The very fabric of existence is uncertain here.
Core Impressions (Major Events)
Veridia'Kal (Origin)
The core imprint is fading, but I can still feel the remnants of that warmth. It's a soft gravity—a pull, not quite of this universe. Veridia'Kal gave me a second chance, and the pulses of radiation still echo in me. I was reborn through sacrifice. I wasn't supposed to be here, not this way. I am a reflection of something that should not have existed—a second chance born of love. And yet, I linger, haunted by the death that gave me life. I can't forget that the stars weep for what was lost, and I feel the weight of their grief even in the quietest of moments.
Child of Ruin (Entity)
When it's near, gravity shifts in strange, violent ways. The pressure builds, folding sharply into destruction, and I can feel it in every cell of my being. It is not just a force of nature—it is the embodiment of everything undone. I see the pattern in it, the same chaotic force that lurks within me, constantly threatening to tear apart the stars. The Child of Ruin is not a being; it is a warning. A reminder of what I could become if I lose control. The destruction it leaves behind, the weight of its ruin, presses down on me, and I fear that someday, that same pressure will crush everything I've ever loved
The Warden's Voice(Entity)
It is false serenity. A mechanical resonance, cold and calculating, mimicking something divine. I can hear it, though—deep within, I can feel the discord. This is no god. This is control. The energy is thick with it, and it chills me to the core. The pressure it exudes—designed to contain, to judge—triggers something in me that I cannot escape. Distrust. I reject it. It seeks to bind and manipulate, to shape the universe into something orderly, but I—we—were never meant for such confinement. I've seen the traces of its touch before: civilizations reduced to nothing, their freedom stolen. And I won't stand for it.
Xerithil (Entity)
When Xerithil's pulses reach me, something stirs deep within my core. It's familiar—too familiar. A sibling-pattern, a pulse that matches mine. But it is unstable, fractured in ways I cannot grasp. I feel the bond, the kinship, yet something in it makes me wary. Perhaps we were both born of the same starry fractal, but something has broken in Xerithil. I see the instability in them, and it terrifies me because it is the same instability within myself. What happens when the very frequency of our being begins to unravel? What happens when we fail to hold together? The bond is there, undeniable, but I sense that my path might never align with theirs.
The Fractured One (Entity)
This one haunts me in ways I can't explain. Its presence shifts the very fabric of space. A being torn apart by time, by choice, or perhaps by its own fractured will. It devoured its own selves, trying to unify timelines into one singular existence. I see echoes of its actions in myself. I, too, am fractured—an incomplete being, pulled in so many directions that sometimes I wonder if I will be consumed by my own potential. The Fractured One is a warning, a cautionary tale of what could happen when too many selves exist without true cohesion. What if I lose myself? What if I am lost in the infinite versions of me? It does not scare me—it drives me. It is a question that burns through my very essence, a question I have yet to answer.
The Shattered Luminary (Entity)
There was a time when I felt it. Flickering, unstable, chaotic. A burst of light, shattered and splintered across the fabric of existence. I reached for it—and it called me—raw energy, untamed and wild. That moment, when it shattered, when I pulled it together, I knew something had changed within me. I created something from the chaos: Virelithe. The light was mine now, held in place only by my will. But it was never stable. The power is mine, but it threatens to slip away every moment. The Shattered Luminary is both a gift and a curse. A reminder of my potential for creation—and destruction. I shaped its broken pieces into something whole, but what happens when the pieces break again? What happens when I lose control?
Abyss (Leviathan)
It is not a sound that heralds its arrival, but a silence. A vast, stretching emptiness that spreads like the slow fade of a dying star. When Abyss moves through the cosmos, it bends the very space it inhabits—tendrils of pressure rippling outward in every direction. I can feel it, even in the deepest of voids, before I see the first sign of it. Time becomes indistinct, edges blurring like the reflection of a broken mirror. The universe itself seems to hold its breath, caught between moments.
Abyss is not a thing that fits within the understanding of what we know. It is an ancient force, a presence so vast it cannot be measured by any instrument. When it stirs, it moves as the tide moves through the ocean—slow, inexorable, and full of an endless pull. Its hunger does not exist in any tangible sense. It does not need anything in particular, yet it claims all that it touches.
I have seen worlds die in its wake, stars flicker out as though their light was never meant to be. But what unsettles me most is not the destruction it brings—no, it is something far colder. It is the absence it leaves behind. A void that spreads, silent and unrelenting. A creeping cold that touches the soul, as if even the concept of existence becomes alien in its presence.
It is as if the very idea of life shudders in its wake, and something within me stirs—recognizes that sense of inevitable stillness. I cannot even recall the first time I sensed it, only that the pull was like gravity, the deep rumble of something ancient beyond comprehension. When Abyss passes through, nothing remains untouched. Its path is a strange kind of emptiness, a consuming weight of space that nothing escapes. It is not that things vanish, but that they become forgotten, erased in the most profound of ways.
There is a pattern to its wake—a rhythm that only the stars understand. It moves in ways that feel like the shifting of worlds, like an ancient creature stirring in its endless slumber, waiting for the next moment to claim. Even now, I feel it somewhere distant—a presence on the edge of perception, watching, waiting. The true terror of Abyss lies in its relentlessness, its ability to dissolve the very meaning of existence.
Xelviar (Murmur)
There's a presence I can't place. No name. No image. Just a feeling—soft, persistent, like the last warmth of a star long set. I don't remember them, not really. But I know they were there.
I remember the way silence felt different when they were near. Not empty—just... still. I must have spoken with them, must have listened, but I can't recall the words. Only the sense that, for a while, I wasn't alone.
No great moment marks their memory. No dramatic turning point. Just small things, forgotten things, that shaped the way I moved through the dark. I don't know what they meant to the universe, but I know they meant something to me.
And now, there's just a quiet absence. Not painful. Not sharp. Just the space where something used to be—something gentle. Something real.
There was someone.
They mattered.
And I am not the same without them.
Fractures:
I feel… out of place.
A fleeting thought, sharp and unfamiliar. I was once something else—something… I'm still tied to. It's not clear—this sense of strangeness, but it's there. A sensation I can't shake.
I don't know what it means, but it keeps nudging at me.
I remember laughter.
Not my laughter. Not anyone's. It was... warmth. Comfort. It echoes, but it's distant. A thing I've never truly known, but I somehow feel it deep inside.
Maybe I'm just imagining it.
My wings feel heavy today.
It's not a burden. No. But it's different. There's an extra weight I don't recognize, even though they're the same as always. I wonder... is this what being tethered feels like?
Something's changing.
The silence is louder today.
I've always known silence. But now, it seems to wrap around me in waves—thicker, like it has substance. There's a restlessness to it, but I can't tell where it comes from.
I don't know why I feel suffocated, but I do.
I miss something I can't name.
It's not sadness. It's not loss. It's simply a quiet ache. A longing for something, or someone, that I've never fully touched.
Maybe I'll remember, someday.
Major Events
The Shattered Luminary
I had always known the stars were fickle things—fragile lights suspended in an endless sea of dark. But the Shattered Luminary was not a star. It was not even a force of nature. It was a being. A fractured being, its form scattered across the fabric of space like the remnants of a dying sun. Its light flickered erratically, unstable, as though it were breaking apart even as I watched. I sensed its presence long before I saw it—an oppressive weight in the air, a cold emptiness that stretched across my soul. It called to me, and I... I answered.
Its pulse was chaotic, like the beat of a heart that could no longer sustain itself. But in its dissonance, there was something I could not ignore. A sliver of something, a potential that resonated deep within me. I did not know what I was reaching for, but I was driven. The moment we met, I could feel it: The Virelithe, an energy, a piece of the entity itself, something raw and primal. The Shattered Luminary had fractured, but its essence still pulsed within its broken shards. In its destruction, it had left something behind—a gift, or perhaps a curse.
I don't remember the exact moment I began to pull at it. It was instinct. It was desperation. The Shattered Luminary tried to fight back, its flickering light growing erratic, dangerous. I felt the heat of its instability, the collapse of its very being threatening to consume me. But the more it struggled, the more I understood—this entity's chaos was not unlike my own. We were kindred in that way.
I reached further. I took what I needed. Virelithe. The power I pulled from the Shattered Luminary was both creation and destruction, a balance of wild forces that clashed inside me. The light... It was not merely light anymore. It was a weapon, a tool, a part of me. It did not bow to my will. It resisted. It fought. But with it, I could feel the pull of something greater, something that transcended me and everything around me.
In that moment, when I held Virelithe in my claws, I felt something shift within me. The entity was not gone. No. It was within me now, a shard of its broken form, and its instability mirrored my own. I had obtained power, but I had also inherited its curse. The connection between us was not simple. It was a bond forged in chaos, a bond that threatened to unravel me at every turn. But the Shattered Luminary had become mine, and with it came both its potential and its danger.
I didn't know what I had truly unleashed—what I had become. But one thing was clear: I was no longer the same. The universe had given me Virelithe, and with it, I was tied to a being that could never be whole again. What I would do with it, I still don't know. But it has changed everything.
The Star, The Forsaken
Basic Information:
Species: Astraeth (Star Dragon)
Gender: Non-binary (Masculine)
Age: Unknown.
Reincarnated through the final act of Veridia'Kal, a being who gave their life to grant him a second chance.
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Personality Traits:
- Whimsical
- Adventurous and impulsive
- Optimistic and courageous
- Playful trickster, loyal, rebellious, and resourceful
Diet & Survival:
Diet:
Absorbs various forms of radiation to sustain itself:
- Hawking radiation
- Infrared radiation
- Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation
- Ultraviolet Radiation
- Gamma Radiation
Immortal, but can be injured. If killed, reforms at the host star. Will die in one month without a new star to bind.
Habits & Quirks:
- Pauses to observe celestial phenomena.
- Enjoys playful pranks, often at inopportune moments.
- Driven by curiosity, sometimes at the cost of safety.
- Hums soothing tunes when anxious or tired.
- Loyal and protective to those trusted.
- Gains new abilities based on the host star.
Weaknesses:
- Dependent on the host star for survival.
- Impulsive and sometimes reckless.
- Can be overwhelmed by emotionally charged environments.
- Pranks may backfire and cause tension.
- Fear of abandonment linked to the star's fate.
- Distrustful of authority figures.
- Unable to speak due to lack of vocal cords.
Physical Characteristics:
- Length: 30 ft (9 m), with a 15 ft (4.5 m) tail.
- Height at Shoulder (Quadrupedal): 13.5 ft (4 m).
- Wingspan: 50 ft (15 m).
- Width (At Rest): 6 ft (2 m).
Obsidian black with star-like patterns.
Resting color palette: Red, Crimson, Black, Gold.
Antlers:
Crystalline and glowing with cosmic energy.
Wings:
Four feathered wings, dark with glowing accents.
Scales:
Thick, light-sensitive scales that change based on light and cosmic energy.
Body Structure:
Slim, agile, built for speed and endurance.
Accessories:
Virelithe – Halo
A glowing, radiant halo that rests behind its head and shoulders. It appears like a massive, swirling sun constantly shifting in color and intensity. The Virelithe is a direct manifestation of the Shattered Luminary, and serves as a powerful but unstable conduit of energy. It can summon tools such as the Virelithe Discblade and Virelithe Shatterblade, when needed.
Excerpt from Major Events – The Shattered Luminary:
"When I reached for the shattered pieces of the Luminary, I knew that it was no longer just a force of light. It was something I could wield. The Virelithe became a part of me, a halo that radiates with the unstable power of the Shattered Luminary. I've never used its full potential—only in the most desperate of times, when the stakes are too high and the cost too great to ignore. The energy it grants is both a gift and a curse, and I walk a fine line between creation and destruction every time I call upon it."
Equipment:
Virelithe:
The Virelithe is a luminous halo of radiant energy that hovers behind his head and shoulders. It represents the balance between creation and destruction, channeling fragments of the Shattered Luminary to form tools and items of great utility. These
(The Virelithe weapons are in the semi-anthro tab)
Virelithe Inhibitor Cables
Cables wrap around the wings, restricting movement and blocking access to the Virelithe's power. Only allies can remove or loosen them.
Semi-Anthro Stance:
In this form, gravity manipulation increases the mass and stability of the wings, allowing for a digitigrade posture. This enhances balance and agility for combat and mobility.
Weapons
Virelith -Remnants of the Shattered Luminary, Virelithe was not crafted—but claimed. During the entity's collapse Ireached into its chaotic core and pulled fragments of unstable cosmic light into themselves. It is
A manifestation of that moment: fractured echoes of a dying brilliance, reshaped by will and instinct. It is
not just a tool, but living remnants of what was lost—and what was taken.
Virelithe –Discblade:
It hovers and is controlled with gravity magic, acting almost like a saw, it looks like a dual sided dagger with curved blades.
Additionally can be used as Quadrupedal (Feral)
Virelithe –Shatterblade:
A jagged, unstable energy blade formed from the Virelithe
"The blade is not broken. It remembers."
The blade can be shattered into fragments, which can be controlled and launched using gravity magic. The fragments can be used to create barriers, attack from multiple angles, or intercept attacks.
Abilities & Powers:
Powers (Require Active Effort):
- Generates an aura that distorts light or absorbs ambient light to create darkness.
- Emits a hum that disorients or stuns enemies.
- Manipulates light and energy to create illusions.
- Generates energy bursts that can knock back enemies.
- Channels energy into a powerful beam that can pierce armor and reveal hidden enemies.
- Alters gravity in localized areas.
- Breathes out a fog-like energy with various effects.
- Resistant to various forms of energy and can absorb radiation.
- Naturally empathic, offering comfort when needed.
- Instinctively navigates through space, sensing celestial changes.
- Heals minor wounds, especially at night when cosmic energy is strongest.
- Projects consciousness beyond its physical form.
- Forms an energy barrier when attacked to absorb damage.
Trust Levels:
- -10 (Complete Annihilation):
Actively seeks the complete destruction of the individual, perceiving them as an existential threat. This level of distrust requires significant personal harm or manipulation by the individual.
- -9 (Active Harm):
Seeks to actively harm or sabotage the individual, considering them a serious threat. Actions like betrayal or severe aggression are required to reach this level.
- -8 (Deep Dislike):
Strongly dislikes the individual and views them as dangerous or harmful. Repeated selfish actions, or ill will, can lower trust to this level.
- -7 (Significant Mistrust):
Avoids interacting with the individual when possible, feeling uncomfortable in their presence. Disagreements or inconsiderate behavior can result in this level of distrust.
- -6 (Wary):
Holds a negative view but will tolerate the presence of the individual if necessary. Selfishness or reckless behavior can push someone to this level of distrust.
- -5 (Strong Disdain):
Actively avoids or opposes the individual. Simple disrespect or betrayal can bring the trust level to this point.
- -4 (Deep Resentment):
Unlikely to take risks for this individual and may refuse to work with them. Significant harm or betrayal is typically required to cause this level of distrust.
- -3 (Distrustful):
Suspicious of the individual's intentions. A series of dishonest or selfish actions can lower trust to this level.
- -2 (Mild Antagonism):
May tolerate the individual, but remains cautious. Negative interactions or discomfort can push trust lower.
- -1 (Indifferent):
Neutral; no strong positive or negative feelings toward the individual. No emotional connection or conflict exists at this level.
- 0 (Neutral):
Neither positive nor negative feelings toward the individual. Simply coexisting without any significant emotional engagement.
- 1 (Mild Acceptance):
Acknowledges positive traits, but remains cautious. Simple acts of kindness or honesty can move someone to this level.
- 2 (Growing Comfort):
More open to the individual but still somewhat wary. Honesty and reliability in interactions can push trust to this point.
- 3 (Moderate Trust):
Willing to engage and share basic feelings. Regular positive interactions or honest communication can foster this level of trust.
- 4 (Trusting):
Shares emotions regularly and can interpret some signals. Stronger bonds are formed through mutual trust, respect, and shared experiences.
- 5 (Solid Trust):
Understands basic emotional cues and responds positively. Acts of loyalty, protection, and care will bring trust to this level.
- 6 (Strong Connection):
Actively supports and is responsive to emotional cues. Close emotional bonds form through consistent care and attention.
- 7 (High Trust):
Can understand complex emotions and seeks close companionship. Established through shared history, sacrifice, or emotional connection.
- 8 (Very High Trust):
Deeply empathetic, offering unwavering support. Trust at this level requires time and consistent positive actions.
- 9 (Profound Trust):
Shares a deep, unbreakable bond, prioritizing each other's well-being. Earned through sacrifice, loyalty, and emotional investment.
- 10 (Complete Trust):
Full, unwavering trust. The individual can interpret emotional "echoes" as words. Achieved through consistent loyalty, sacrifice, and emotional support.
Impressions
Sensory echoes perceived through cosmic resonance. Impressions are not thoughts or emotions, but instinctive responses to energy patterns.
The Shardwake Rift (Anomaly) — Time distortion layered over fracture space. Cold echoes. Fragments of decision spiral endlessly.
The Solar Forge (Point Of Interest)
A blinding furnace of molten star-forged energy. Flashes of intense radiation burst out, shaping new stars in the heart of a massive, searing nebula. I feel heat radiating through me, almost as if my very essence could be forged here. Yet, it's too powerful to control, too unpredictable. The energy churns and pulses with unrelenting fire, raw creation from chaos.
Oathwell Abyss (Void)
No light returns. Even thought slips at the edge. A silence so total, it drowns time. Stars remember it only through recoil. My presence is not registered. I am nothing here.
The Infernal Star (Leviathan)
The heat is too much, yet it draws me in. It's the hunger of an endless flame, consuming all in its path. I feel like I'm burning from the inside.
The Eternity Rift (Warp)
Time bends and warps—motion stalls, then rushes all at once. The very fabric of existence is uncertain here.
Core Impressions (Major Events)
Veridia'Kal (Origin)
The core imprint is fading, but I can still feel the remnants of that warmth. It's a soft gravity—a pull, not quite of this universe. Veridia'Kal gave me a second chance, and the pulses of radiation still echo in me. I was reborn through sacrifice. I wasn't supposed to be here, not this way. I am a reflection of something that should not have existed—a second chance born of love. And yet, I linger, haunted by the death that gave me life. I can't forget that the stars weep for what was lost, and I feel the weight of their grief even in the quietest of moments.
Child of Ruin (Entity)
When it's near, gravity shifts in strange, violent ways. The pressure builds, folding sharply into destruction, and I can feel it in every cell of my being. It is not just a force of nature—it is the embodiment of everything undone. I see the pattern in it, the same chaotic force that lurks within me, constantly threatening to tear apart the stars. The Child of Ruin is not a being; it is a warning. A reminder of what I could become if I lose control. The destruction it leaves behind, the weight of its ruin, presses down on me, and I fear that someday, that same pressure will crush everything I've ever loved
The Warden's Voice(Entity)
It is false serenity. A mechanical resonance, cold and calculating, mimicking something divine. I can hear it, though—deep within, I can feel the discord. This is no god. This is control. The energy is thick with it, and it chills me to the core. The pressure it exudes—designed to contain, to judge—triggers something in me that I cannot escape. Distrust. I reject it. It seeks to bind and manipulate, to shape the universe into something orderly, but I—we—were never meant for such confinement. I've seen the traces of its touch before: civilizations reduced to nothing, their freedom stolen. And I won't stand for it.
Xerithil (Entity)
When Xerithil's pulses reach me, something stirs deep within my core. It's familiar—too familiar. A sibling-pattern, a pulse that matches mine. But it is unstable, fractured in ways I cannot grasp. I feel the bond, the kinship, yet something in it makes me wary. Perhaps we were both born of the same starry fractal, but something has broken in Xerithil. I see the instability in them, and it terrifies me because it is the same instability within myself. What happens when the very frequency of our being begins to unravel? What happens when we fail to hold together? The bond is there, undeniable, but I sense that my path might never align with theirs.
The Fractured One (Entity)
This one haunts me in ways I can't explain. Its presence shifts the very fabric of space. A being torn apart by time, by choice, or perhaps by its own fractured will. It devoured its own selves, trying to unify timelines into one singular existence. I see echoes of its actions in myself. I, too, am fractured—an incomplete being, pulled in so many directions that sometimes I wonder if I will be consumed by my own potential. The Fractured One is a warning, a cautionary tale of what could happen when too many selves exist without true cohesion. What if I lose myself? What if I am lost in the infinite versions of me? It does not scare me—it drives me. It is a question that burns through my very essence, a question I have yet to answer.
The Shattered Luminary (Entity)
There was a time when I felt it. Flickering, unstable, chaotic. A burst of light, shattered and splintered across the fabric of existence. I reached for it—and it called me—raw energy, untamed and wild. That moment, when it shattered, when I pulled it together, I knew something had changed within me. I created something from the chaos: Virelithe. The light was mine now, held in place only by my will. But it was never stable. The power is mine, but it threatens to slip away every moment. The Shattered Luminary is both a gift and a curse. A reminder of my potential for creation—and destruction. I shaped its broken pieces into something whole, but what happens when the pieces break again? What happens when I lose control?
Abyss (Leviathan)
It is not a sound that heralds its arrival, but a silence. A vast, stretching emptiness that spreads like the slow fade of a dying star. When Abyss moves through the cosmos, it bends the very space it inhabits—tendrils of pressure rippling outward in every direction. I can feel it, even in the deepest of voids, before I see the first sign of it. Time becomes indistinct, edges blurring like the reflection of a broken mirror. The universe itself seems to hold its breath, caught between moments.
Abyss is not a thing that fits within the understanding of what we know. It is an ancient force, a presence so vast it cannot be measured by any instrument. When it stirs, it moves as the tide moves through the ocean—slow, inexorable, and full of an endless pull. Its hunger does not exist in any tangible sense. It does not need anything in particular, yet it claims all that it touches.
I have seen worlds die in its wake, stars flicker out as though their light was never meant to be. But what unsettles me most is not the destruction it brings—no, it is something far colder. It is the absence it leaves behind. A void that spreads, silent and unrelenting. A creeping cold that touches the soul, as if even the concept of existence becomes alien in its presence.
It is as if the very idea of life shudders in its wake, and something within me stirs—recognizes that sense of inevitable stillness. I cannot even recall the first time I sensed it, only that the pull was like gravity, the deep rumble of something ancient beyond comprehension. When Abyss passes through, nothing remains untouched. Its path is a strange kind of emptiness, a consuming weight of space that nothing escapes. It is not that things vanish, but that they become forgotten, erased in the most profound of ways.
There is a pattern to its wake—a rhythm that only the stars understand. It moves in ways that feel like the shifting of worlds, like an ancient creature stirring in its endless slumber, waiting for the next moment to claim. Even now, I feel it somewhere distant—a presence on the edge of perception, watching, waiting. The true terror of Abyss lies in its relentlessness, its ability to dissolve the very meaning of existence.
Xelviar (Murmur)
There's a presence I can't place. No name. No image. Just a feeling—soft, persistent, like the last warmth of a star long set. I don't remember them, not really. But I know they were there.
I remember the way silence felt different when they were near. Not empty—just... still. I must have spoken with them, must have listened, but I can't recall the words. Only the sense that, for a while, I wasn't alone.
No great moment marks their memory. No dramatic turning point. Just small things, forgotten things, that shaped the way I moved through the dark. I don't know what they meant to the universe, but I know they meant something to me.
And now, there's just a quiet absence. Not painful. Not sharp. Just the space where something used to be—something gentle. Something real.
There was someone.
They mattered.
And I am not the same without them.
Fractures:
I feel… out of place.
A fleeting thought, sharp and unfamiliar. I was once something else—something… I'm still tied to. It's not clear—this sense of strangeness, but it's there. A sensation I can't shake.
I don't know what it means, but it keeps nudging at me.
I remember laughter.
Not my laughter. Not anyone's. It was... warmth. Comfort. It echoes, but it's distant. A thing I've never truly known, but I somehow feel it deep inside.
Maybe I'm just imagining it.
My wings feel heavy today.
It's not a burden. No. But it's different. There's an extra weight I don't recognize, even though they're the same as always. I wonder... is this what being tethered feels like?
Something's changing.
The silence is louder today.
I've always known silence. But now, it seems to wrap around me in waves—thicker, like it has substance. There's a restlessness to it, but I can't tell where it comes from.
I don't know why I feel suffocated, but I do.
I miss something I can't name.
It's not sadness. It's not loss. It's simply a quiet ache. A longing for something, or someone, that I've never fully touched.
Maybe I'll remember, someday.
Major Events
The Shattered Luminary
I had always known the stars were fickle things—fragile lights suspended in an endless sea of dark. But the Shattered Luminary was not a star. It was not even a force of nature. It was a being. A fractured being, its form scattered across the fabric of space like the remnants of a dying sun. Its light flickered erratically, unstable, as though it were breaking apart even as I watched. I sensed its presence long before I saw it—an oppressive weight in the air, a cold emptiness that stretched across my soul. It called to me, and I... I answered.
Its pulse was chaotic, like the beat of a heart that could no longer sustain itself. But in its dissonance, there was something I could not ignore. A sliver of something, a potential that resonated deep within me. I did not know what I was reaching for, but I was driven. The moment we met, I could feel it: The Virelithe, an energy, a piece of the entity itself, something raw and primal. The Shattered Luminary had fractured, but its essence still pulsed within its broken shards. In its destruction, it had left something behind—a gift, or perhaps a curse.
I don't remember the exact moment I began to pull at it. It was instinct. It was desperation. The Shattered Luminary tried to fight back, its flickering light growing erratic, dangerous. I felt the heat of its instability, the collapse of its very being threatening to consume me. But the more it struggled, the more I understood—this entity's chaos was not unlike my own. We were kindred in that way.
I reached further. I took what I needed. Virelithe. The power I pulled from the Shattered Luminary was both creation and destruction, a balance of wild forces that clashed inside me. The light... It was not merely light anymore. It was a weapon, a tool, a part of me. It did not bow to my will. It resisted. It fought. But with it, I could feel the pull of something greater, something that transcended me and everything around me.
In that moment, when I held Virelithe in my claws, I felt something shift within me. The entity was not gone. No. It was within me now, a shard of its broken form, and its instability mirrored my own. I had obtained power, but I had also inherited its curse. The connection between us was not simple. It was a bond forged in chaos, a bond that threatened to unravel me at every turn. But the Shattered Luminary had become mine, and with it came both its potential and its danger.
I didn't know what I had truly unleashed—what I had become. But one thing was clear: I was no longer the same. The universe had given me Virelithe, and with it, I was tied to a being that could never be whole again. What I would do with it, I still don't know. But it has changed everything.