The winds carried a scent unlike anything recorded in the Grand Archives. It began subtly, a floral fragrance overlaid with the metallic tang of volcanic ash. Then, it intensified, bringing with it the appearance of the Obsidian Bloom – a single, colossal flower that erupted from the heart of the Volcanic Peaks. This bloom, according to the fragmented records recovered from the nomadic Sky-Dancers, was a manifestation of the slumbering Titan, Vorlag, whose dreams shaped the very weather patterns of the region. The Sky-Dancers, a people known for their unsettlingly accurate predictions, warned of a "Shimmering Fracture" – a destabilization of reality itself, linked to Vorlag’s restless sleep. “The Weaver's Thread unravels,” Elder Lyra of the Sky-Dancers reportedly declared, before disappearing in a flash of chromatic light.
Centuries later, the scholars of the Silver Citadel discovered a second, more insidious chronicle. This one originated from the submerged city of Veridia, a metropolis built within a colossal geode beneath the Azure Sea. Veridia, it turned out, wasn't merely a city; it was a living conduit, a node in a network of temporal echoes. The inhabitants, the Luminians, had attempted to harness these echoes to achieve immortality, but instead, they shattered the fabric of time, creating “Residual Harmonies” – pockets of distorted reality where the past bled into the present. These harmonies manifested as fleeting glimpses of bygone eras and individuals, often accompanied by an overwhelming sense of melancholy. “We sought to extend our lives, but we only amplified the sorrow of what was lost,” the transcribed words of the last Luminian, Kai’el, revealed. The Citadel’s Grand Chronomaester, Silas Blackwood, theorized that Veridia’s collapse was a direct consequence of this temporal tampering.
The final and most unsettling chronicle details the “Convergence” – a catastrophic event where the echoes of Vorlag and the remnants of Veridia’s temporal network collided. It happened in the Silent Valley, a place untouched by time, where the boundaries between realities became impossibly thin. The Bloom reappeared, larger and more vibrant than ever before, and the echoes of Veridia manifested as a legion of spectral warriors, clad in shimmering armor and wielding weapons of solidified time. The ensuing battle reshaped the valley, creating a region of perpetual twilight and fractured memories. “The past is not a museum, but a predator,” a final, desperate transmission from the Chronomaester, Theron, was intercepted before the valley was consumed entirely. Theron vanished, leaving behind only a single, perfectly formed obsidian flower.