Arcána Mundí - The royal treasure

Prologue

Welcome to the world of ArcánaMundí. A world full of magic and creatures of all kinds. A world where nothing seemed impossible, full of colors and creatures, people and animals.This is where our story began thousands of years ago, the story of a huge treasure, the story of a royal family, the story of how one should succeed in making the impossible come true. But one after the other.

Let's start with a small village called Murík, located in the south of ArcánaMundí. Here lived simple craftsmen and peasants who had to work hard every day to keep themselves alive. It was a beautiful village, numerous rivers, hilly landscapes, small wooden huts and in the distance a huge magnificent castle, a palace; the royal palace! The royal palace was not only highly respected by the inhabitants of the village, no, it was highly respected by all the beings of ArcánaMundí. The great, powerful King Grucíus-Lontacíus Prince supported the common people as much as he could, was kind-hearted and provided for the inhabitants. Every being in the world bowed to him, submitted to him, had respect for the ruler.

If someone wondered what the king looked like, he could be described as follows. He was a bit older, about 70 years, a bit thicker, had eyes as black as the night, a full beard and five golden rings on the fingers of his right hand. The rings created by magicians, precious, extremely powerful and beautiful. In the palace the king had a treasury, bigger than any other in all ArcánaMundí, at that time well filled with gold, silver, diamonds and other precious objects. It was the largest treasure anyone ever owned. No one had so much that sparkles and shines. Every inhabitant, every being envied the king for the treasure. Who would not want to own such magnificent gold, drink from a chalice of sapphires, wear a ring with the most beautiful gems or have a festive dinner every day.One fateful day, however, all that was about to change. A one hundred and eighty degree turnaround ensued. The royal house would descend into chaos. But here, too, one after the other.The day came when the old ruler summoned his two sons to his room. Outside it was raining, storming. A thunderstorm, more violent than it had been for a long time. Grucíus was aware that he had grown old and weak and that he would not remain among the living forever. Thus, he had to decide which of his two sons would become the new heir to the throne and thus also inherit the kingdom. As chance would have it, however, the two were twins. Accordingly, it had to be decided according to the time of day which of the two was the elder. When the two entered the room, there was a short silence and he eyed the two, before he said to them in a croaking voice something in the language of the time:Thanduri kareza es pardendrio ka schefor arrío destóbedo erachor de achundrí. Es tempo zor seyjen ques de futuro pardendrio. SeparecéjuGregóar-WingsozjuScroutch-Rául. Tristanice twinagos maracé welaje de la jlock. El firs bojar nucar se pardendrio. (Translated into today's language, this would mean something like, "I am old and weak and my days as king are coming to an end. Now it is time to see which of you two will be the future king and replace me. Either you Gregóar-Wings or you Scroutch-Rául. Since you are twins, it will be decided by the time of your birth. The firstborn shall replace me as the new king.")

And so it came about that Gregóar, who was only a little older, but more delicate, frailer and smaller than his twin brother, was to become the future ruler of ArcánaMundí. What such a few minutes of age difference can cause, was to turn out shortly thereafter. For Scroutch-Rául had become angry about the king's decision and would not accept it so easily. He started shouting, getting upset and objecting. He was the greater of the two and the stronger, the more worthy and the better. His brother could not be a true king. Grucíus, however, stuck to his decision and thus caused chaos. Enraged by the decision, Scroutch pounced on his rejoicing blond brother Gregóar, who was destined to rule over the village and all of ArcánaMundí. It didn't take too long for the scuffle to develop, and it led to violent and dark consequences. In the wild slaughter, the taller, the stronger, slew his brother, who would actually have been his future king. One blow after the other, until the boy lay on the ground and did not move. For the old man, there was not enough time to intervene in time. Before it could be prevented, death had come upon the royal family and Gregóar lay motionless. At that very moment it was heard. A thunder as loud as never before. The storm reflected the event that had just occurred. It was a tragedy.