Before Valeria's towers pierced the skies...
Before the Source crowned mortals with flame, stone, and sky...
Before power defined worth—
There were Threads.
Seven Primordial Forces wove the fabric of existence:
Flame, who birthed fury — Crimson
Tide, who remembered sorrow — Deep Blue
Gale, who stirred breath — Silver-White
Stone, who bore the weight of time — Obsidian
Light, who blinded with glory — Radiant Gold
Shadow, who whispered secrets — Violet-Black
Spark, who lit the stars — Electric Azure
Together, they shaped the Thread of All Things—a vast weave connecting every soul to an Affinity. From the poorest servant to the loftiest king, power was not earned. It was inherited. Granted by the Source. Chosen by the world.
To be born was to be bound.
To awaken was destiny.
To wield power was life itself.
But not all threads were meant to be woven.
There was an Eighth.
Unnamed. Uncelebrated.
Void.
Where the Seven governed form and element, Void was the seam between. Not absence—but potential. Not silence—but the echo before sound.
Void was not loved.
Void was not feared.
Void was simply… forgotten.
It offered no crest. No comfort. No rule.
Only choice. And choice is chaos.
So the Seven cast it out.
Sealed it. Buried it.
And rewrote the story without it.
For centuries, every child born touched the Source and was given a thread.
Every child… but one.
A boy born threadless.
A flaw in the weave.
An error in a perfect world.
But the weave is fraying.
The system trembles.
And in the silence between thunder and flame—
Lightning falls.
And the Void answers.
"They erased the Void because they could not bind it.
They feared the boy because he would not need to be."