In the beginning, before the threads of fate twisted into their current forms, the world was a scattered array of fragmented kingdoms. They were not bound by geography, nor history, nor law. Each kingdom stood in isolation, shrouded by time and space. Yet, in the midst of this chaos, a dark force began to take shape—an ancient power that sought to bring all things under its singular control.

  Her name was Kaella, the Seer of Forgotten Paths, and her vision stretched beyond time, beyond the veil of the present world, into the very fabric of existence. She knew that something was coming—a calamity that would swallow the kingdoms whole. And she, who could see the paths of all lives, knew that it was only a matter of time before the world's fate became entwined with her own.

  But Kaella was not alone in her foresight. Her visions were shared by a council of warriors, mages, and rulers from distant lands. They had all seen the same storm brewing on the horizon—a force of untold power, capable of unraveling reality itself.

  One of these warriors was Tyros, a master swordsman from the Kingdom of Eldra, a land where steel was forged in the heart of volcanoes and battle was an art. He was known for his fearlessness in the face of death, his blade never faltering in battle. But even he, with all his strength, could not deny the weight of the future that hung in the air. The vision had come to him one quiet evening in his chambers, as he stared into the mirror. The reflection staring back was not his own, but that of a figure wrapped in shadow, whose eyes burned with a fire that was both beautiful and terrifying.

  "You will fight, Tyros," the figure whispered, "but only if you join them."

  The “them” was a gathering of strange beings who would soon emerge from the cracks between dimensions. These beings hailed from far-off realms, worlds that existed in parallel to their own. Some were gods, others were monsters. Each carried with them the knowledge of the end—an end that could not be averted unless they combined their powers.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  On the other side of the continent, across the Ocean of Souls, there was Azra, the Sorceress of Boundless Sky. She had once been a wandering nomad, speaking with the winds and studying the stars, but the vision she had received was unlike any she had seen before. The stars themselves had aligned to form an eerie constellation, one that pulsed with dark energy. Azra's heart sank as she realized that this was not a simple omen. This was a call to arms.

  The stars spoke to her in a language known only to those who had touched the edge of infinity. And it was a language that no one, not even Azra, could fully comprehend. But the message was clear: the fate of all things lay in the hands of those willing to fight for it, to risk everything in a battle that could shatter the heavens.

  "I will not stand alone," Azra muttered to herself, as she summoned the winds to guide her across the vast oceans.

  Meanwhile, on the distant moon of Valderas, the legendary hunter Lyle waited in silence. He had come to know the darkness that had consumed the hearts of men and gods alike. He had tracked beasts that were born of nightmares and hunted down those who sought to bring ruin. Yet this time, something was different. The creature he had been sent to track was not a mere monster—it was a force of nature, a storm made flesh, and it moved with an intelligence that was beyond his understanding.

  But Lyle knew one thing: He would not rest until he had hunted it down.

  And so, across these scattered kingdoms, the first whispers of a war began to stir. Legends, myth, and prophecy began to blur together. The paths of these individuals, drawn by fate and necessity, would soon cross. Together, they would face the storm—a dark force that sought to tear apart the fabric of existence itself.

  As the sun set on the horizon, casting a blood-red glow across the land, Kaella knew that the time had come. The Gathering Storm was not just a calamity—it was a test. A test for all who would answer the call.

  And though the odds were slim, though the battle was certain to be long and grueling, she knew one thing with certainty: The storm would not win. Not while there were those willing to stand against it.