This is the 1st half of the EVERMORE Prequels. Check out the 2nd half EVERMORE: Talindra's Chronicles, on my profile now!
In the ancient realm of Evermore, a land steeped in magic and marred by conflict, an age-old war rages between two mighty races...
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The aftermath of the battle still lingered in the air as Eadric Lightbringer, weary but resolute, made his way through the war-torn lands of Evermore. His journey to Ironhaven, the northernmost city and capital of the humans, was fraught with danger and uncertainty. Eadric knew that his report to King Gideon was of utmost importance—a recounting of the recent victory at Ravenhold and the desperate need for reinforcements in the face of the encroaching elven forces.
As Eadric rode through the scarred countryside, the landscape bore witness to the ravages of war. Fields once lush with crops lay barren, their once vibrant colors replaced by a desolate palette of ash and ruin. Charred remnants of homes stood as solemn monuments, their foundations testifying to the lives shattered by the conflict. The weight of the world's suffering pressed upon Eadric's shoulders, fueling his determination to seek aid and turn the tide of the war.
Days turned into nights as Eadric traversed through forests and across treacherous plains, his path illuminated only by the pale light of the moon and the twinkling stars above. The whispering wind carried with it a sense of foreboding, and Eadric's instincts sharpened, attuned to the lurking dangers that awaited him.
Amidst the daunting journey, Eadric encountered remnants of villages that had fallen victim to the elven onslaught. The survivors, their faces etched with grief and desperation, looked to him with flickering hope. Eadric offered what solace he could, his words a balm to their wounded spirits. Promises of aid and unity fell from his lips, giving them a glimmer of optimism to cling to in the face of adversity.
As Eadric continued northward, he found himself traversing through ancient forests teeming with magic. The gnarled branches of towering trees reached out like skeletal fingers, casting eerie shadows upon the forest floor. The forest whispered secrets, tales of forgotten enchantments and the presence of mythical creatures that roamed its depths. Eadric's senses sharpened, attuned to the subtle disturbances in the magical weave that surrounded him.
One evening, Eadric set up camp by a tranquil river, its gentle flow soothing his weary soul. As he tended to his horse and prepared a meager meal, a haunting melody drifted through the air, capturing his attention. Mesmerized, he followed the ethereal strains until he came upon a clearing bathed in moonlight. There, standing amidst a ring of toadstools, was a graceful elven bard, her long silver hair cascading down her back.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them—a shared recognition of the tragedy that befell their peoples. The elven bard's voice wove a melancholic tale of loss and longing, her song resonating with Eadric's soul. When the final note faded into the night, Eadric whispered his gratitude and bid her farewell, carrying the weight of their encounter as a reminder of the delicate balance between their warring races.
Days turned into weeks, and the landscape transformed once again as Eadric ventured alongside the frigid reaches of the Northern Mountains. Towering peaks loomed above him, their snow-capped summits glistening like crowns of ice. The biting wind cut through his cloak, penetrating his bones with its icy breath. Yet, despite the harshness of the terrain, Eadric pressed on, driven by the urgency of his mission.
