Before Earth breathed, before stars blinked awake, the void was still.
Within it stirred two ancient forces: Good and Evil.
To test their strength, they each shaped a champion.
Good forged Shiruba U'windo, the silver dragon of storm, balance, and justice—his breath like wind through crystal flame.
Evil, unwilling to be outdone, tore a shard from its own shadow and shaped Drako, a monstrous twin of decay, crowned with ten writhing tails.
Their battle shattered stars and cracked new worlds. But it could not end.
To halt the ruin, the Almighty, eternal and unseen, forged a sacred box. Into it, He sealed Shiruba and Drako—light and shadow locked as one.
Then, He proceeded with creation.
He shaped Earth—lush, vibrant, alive—and placed the sealed box atop its highest mountain. From it, Ether flowed gently into the land, nourishing rivers, awakening forests, and preparing the world for life.
But peace is fragile.
One day, a mortal woman found the box. Drawn by whispers not her own, she opened it. Ether flooded the world. Chaos returned.
Still carrying the darkness within him, Shiruba rose.
He tore a piece of Earth into the heavens, shaping Skyland—a realm suspended between stars and soil.
At its heart, he planted the Ether Tree, radiant and vast, to restore harmony and guide life.
To each species, he gave purpose.
For a time, Skyland thrived.
But something broke.
Not all at once. Not with flame or thunder.
It began, as it always does—with silence.
Shiruba U'windo vanished. Without warning. Without farewell.
And in his absence, a great catastrophe struck the land.
Mountains split. Cities fell quiet. The Ether trembled.
From the broken places, creatures of horror emerged—Shadows, crawling out of corrupted Ether, whispering fear into every corner of the realm.
Many lost their homes. Many more lost their hope.
And now, across the fractured skies, the people of Skyland struggle to survive—haunted by what was lost, hunted by what now lurks.
And though the Ether still flows…
Skyland waits—for those brave enough to rise.