[center][b][h1][color=a187be]Qael'Naath[/color][/h1][/b][/center][hr]Qael’Naath had been resting upon one of the smaller floating islands of Xal-Zastarha. The glade gently flowed across the cloudy sky. Sun was beaming down upon him. Offering warmth and light. It felt pleasant, and much needed. Most of the work, for now, had been finished. All sapience that should have received his blessing, did so. So now he could rest a few centuries until the time came for the next steps of his plan. He closed his eyes and imagined how it would feel for a mortal to rest. They called it sleeping if he remembered correctly. But when he opened his eyes, something was off. The world had gone dark. Things were blurring around him. Worst of all, he could barely feel the touch of mana. It felt like he was losing his elsewise strong grip upon the substance.

He reached out to get a hold of it. For a moment it worked but then he could feel that force on the other side. It pulled his creation away from him. [color=a187be][b]“No!”[/b][/color] He screamed but the mana was slipping him. He attempted to create spells with what he could hold on to, to attack the force on the other side. Nothing happened, the divine spells just fluttered out of existence the moment they were cast. He was fighting a losing battle, yet he pushed on. Holding on to the barest bits of it. Until it had all fled him. Only then did he realize, it was more than mana that had vanished. Everything around him was gone. The god of magic had found himself alone in an endless, black void. Without the mana around him, he felt cold.

Despite his clear absence from Galbar, he could feel sapience pray to him. Some prayers were severely misguided but they still came to him. As they lit the flames in their hands or levitated rocks and begged for more. He floated through the void, searching for something, anything! The whispers of prayers never got louder or quieter. Nor did the void ever get warmer. After some time, it was impossible to say how long, Qael’Naath resigned to his fate. For the moment, he was chained to this realm. With that acceptance, his burden eased. Prayer whispers faded away. With that clarity came another realization. This place gave him much more power. It was better than Galbar! There were no meddling siblings or foolish mortals. Then he touched his chest. The wound, it had healed! A scar remained, surely. But the wound itself was finally gone! His excitement exploded from him. Mana was suddenly everywhere around him again. The cold was banished away as his realm began to glitter and feel warm again.

Then he got to work. That’s what he had to do. He had to make the realm perfect. First, he concentrated the mana and created the blue sun. It would form the very center of his domain. Then he began to coalesce mana into large, stone rocks floating in various orbits around the blue sun. Each place would become a masterpiece. For many Galbaric years, he slaved away at each garden or glade. Making sure each leaf hung exactly where it should. Offering just the right amount of shade and would move just enough in the wind. Streams of sapphire, emerald, and ruby flowed across these floating islands. Giving them even more splendor. Everything was adhering to some natural patterns. Even if it was impossible for mortals to see it.

This took time. A lot of time. All the while life on Galbar continued. Qael did not register this time. How could he? He was far too busy tending to his realm. Placing every bit of green or stone took time. Vast amounts of time. Yet after what at the end of it felt like thousands of years, Qael sat upon his first glade and marveled at the perfection he created. A realm, born and completely shaped by him. It reminded him of Xal-Zastarha. Then he felt a strange feeling. He felt hollow. Despite the millennia of effort, he suddenly felt as if his whole realm meant nothing. Yet he knew it was everything. Everything he ever wanted. No, not everything he wanted. There were two things missing. Two things that would make it all worth. As if summoned, a tear in his realm formed before him. The god felt strangely drawn to it. Could it be? A way back? Slowly he approached it. There was no way of knowing where it would lead. Perhaps it didn’t lead to Galbar? What did it matter!? It was a chance! With newfound determination, he jumped into the portal.

It led him to a barren field. For a moment he stumbled and nearly fell, but managed to use his staff to regain balance.

[hider=Summary]Qael was resting and wondering what it felt like to sleep. When he opens his eyes again, the world is a blur and mana is fleeing him. He tries to fight it and even tries to cast spells. To no avail. He finds himself in a large, empty void. After trying to find a way out (and failing), he realizes there is no way out and accepts it. He then realizes that he actually has much more power in this void than on Galbar. And his wound is healed! This realization explodes into the creation of mana in his realm. Which he then uses to build it up from scratch.

To Qael, if he had been paying attention, it would've felt like thousands of years had passed. As he meticulously crafted every floating island with extremem care. Once he was entirely done he rested upon his first island. Only to realize that his perfect creation is far from perfect. It is missing two things. As if summoned by that thought, a tear forms and takes him to Antiquity.[/hider]