Welcome to Solvoryn – The World of Five Kingdoms
Solvoryn is a world born of balance and conflict, where nature breathes with ancient will and civilizations rise beneath the watchful silence of forgotten gods. It is a realm shaped not merely by land and sea, but by belief, blood, and destiny. Five great continents stand apart yet bound by fate, each ruled by a kingdom whose nature mirrors the soul of its people. Together, they form the World of Five Kingdoms—beautiful, brutal, and eternally restless.
Solvoryn is vast, its skies stretching endlessly over lands of striking contrast. From wild, untamed territories where civilization dares not linger, to golden empires forged by human ambition, every continent carries its own rhythm of life.
The world turns beneath a celestial calendar known to all races, its passage of time measured not just by days, but by meaning.
The year begins with Solmar, the Month of the First Sun, when the world awakens from winter's silence and new journeys are blessed by light. Florentis, the Month of Blooming Earth, follows—fields blossom, forests sing, and life surges through soil and root. Auravar, the Month of Balance, marks harmony between day and night, light and shadow.
As the sun climbs higher, Helior, the Month of High Sun, brings heat and strength, while Verdane, the Month of Green Fields, rewards those who sowed with patience. Then comes Aserin, the Month of Burning Wind, when tempests rage and trials test both body and will.
Harvest arrives with Ceralis, the Month of First Harvest, and wealth follows during Amberfall, the Month of Falling Gold. As the light fades, Duskwane, the Month of Shortening Light, reminds all beings of mortality. The year ends in Noctyra, the Month of the Starless Sky, a time feared and revered, when the veil between the world and the unknown grows thin.
Each week moves through seven sacred days: Solis, Lunara, Terris, Aeris, Ignis, Aquaen, and Umbra—each aligned with cosmic forces that subtly influence fate, emotion, and magic.
Vaelthar – The Untamed Wilds
Vaelthar is not ruled—it endures.
Known as the continent of Draft, Vaelthar is a land where nature reigns supreme. Endless plains of razor grass stretch beneath storm-heavy skies, broken by colossal mountains and deep, ancient forests untouched by time. Beasts of legend roam freely here, and the land itself seems alive, hostile to those who seek to tame it.
Tribes and scattered clans survive through strength and instinct rather than law. Religion in Vaelthar is primal, centered around spirits of earth, storm, and flame. The people believe the world itself is their god, and to defy nature is the gravest sin.
Few outsiders survive long in Vaelthar. Those who do return changed—or never return at all.
Syltheria – Forest of Eternal Wisdom
Syltheria is a living dream, a continent shaped by harmony and ancient magic. Towering trees pierce the heavens, their roots glowing faintly with arcane energy. Rivers flow like silver veins through emerald land, and the air hums with quiet power.
This is the realm of the Elves, beings of grace and longevity who see time as a slow river rather than a rushing tide. Their cities are grown, not built—woven into branches and stone with magic passed down through millennia.
Elven religion is deeply spiritual, centered on the belief that knowledge itself is sacred. They worship no singular god, but the eternal cycle of wisdom, memory, and nature. Syltheria rarely involves itself in the wars of other continents, yet when it does, the world trembles.
Nyssara – The Shadowed Dominion
Hidden beneath eternal twilight lies Nyssara, the realm of the Dark Elves. It is a land of obsidian cities, subterranean kingdoms, and skies forever cloaked in shadow. Bioluminescent flora provides ghostly light, casting long, haunting silhouettes across stone and steel.
Nyssara is ruled by strict hierarchy and ruthless law. Power is earned through cunning, strength, and sacrifice. Betrayal is common, loyalty rare—but deeply valued when proven.
Dark Elves worship forgotten gods of night, silence, and ambition. To them, shadow is not evil, but truth stripped bare. Nyssara's armies are feared across Solvoryn, for they strike without warning and vanish like smoke.
Aurelia – The Golden Realm
Aurelia stands as the shining heart of human civilization. Vast farmlands, marble cities, and radiant palaces define the Golden Realm. Roads connect every major settlement, trade flourishes, and banners of gold and white fly proudly above fortified walls.
Aurelian humans believe deeply in order, law, and divine right. Their religion centers on a pantheon of light-aligned gods who represent justice, prosperity, and unity. Temples dominate city centers, and priests wield influence equal to nobles.
Yet beneath Aurelia's brilliance lies corruption, ambition, and the quiet hunger for conquest. Gold may shine, but it also blinds.
Dravanya – Land of Rising Blood
Where Aurelia builds, Dravanya conquers.
This harsh human continent is forged in warfare and survival. Volcanic lands, crimson rivers, and iron-rich soil stain the land red. Cities are built like fortresses, and every citizen learns to fight from childhood.
Dravanya's people worship war-aspect deities—gods of blood, strength, and destiny. Honor is measured not by mercy, but by victory. Though often branded as savages by other kingdoms, Dravanya's warriors are disciplined, loyal, and terrifyingly effective.
Many of Solvoryn's greatest wars were born in Dravanya—and many legends as well.
A World Bound by Fate
Though separated by sea and belief, the Five Kingdoms are bound by ancient prophecy and shared history. Trade, war, betrayal, and fragile alliances weave an ever-shifting balance. Magic flows unevenly across Solvoryn, stronger in some lands, forbidden in others.
Above all, Solvoryn is a world where destiny watches silently. Heroes are not chosen—they are forged by suffering, choice, and consequence.
Prologue
Year 250 A.D.
History would later argue about when the new era truly began. Some would mark it by wars. Others by crowns rising and falling. But those who understood Solvoryn knew the truth was far quieter.
It began with two children.
They were born under the same sky, beneath the same turning stars, yet the world welcomed them very differently. One opened their eyes surrounded by gold and stone, the other by soil and wind. One was given a crown before they could speak. The other was given nothing—except strength.
The old prophecies did not name them. They never did. Solvoryn had learned long ago that destiny speaks only after blood has been spilled.
Aurelia — The Golden Realm
The capital city of Aurelia rose like a hymn carved in stone.
Aurelia Swansea, named after the Goddess of Sun and Justice, stood radiant beneath the high sky. Marble towers caught the morning light, reflecting gold across wide avenues and sacred halls. Royal banners moved gently in the warm air, and the scent of incense drifted from temple to palace alike.
At the heart of the city stood the royal mansion—vast, ancient, and heavy with history.
Inside one of its chambers, a child trained.
Only three years old, the child's golden hair caught the sunlight pouring through tall windows. Golden eyes—clear, unafraid—reflected not innocence, but focus. Small hands gripped a wooden sword, its edges worn smooth by endless practice.
The room was too grand for someone so young. Stone pillars. Carved emblems of kings long dead. A presence that pressed down like unseen weight.
And yet the child stood straight.
Each swing was clumsy, unbalanced, but determined. The blade cut through the air again and again, as if the child understood something no one had yet spoken aloud—that crowns are not inherited by blood alone.
The aura in the room was unmistakable. Not power, not yet. But authority waiting to awaken.
The world would one day call this child Kaelen Solthar.
A king, born into light.
Dravanya — The Land of Rising Blood
Far to the south, beyond borders of law and comfort, Dravanya breathed differently.
In the Bibury Village, tucked between a quiet forest and a wide riverbank, life moved without ceremony. Homes were built from wood and stone, shaped by hands that knew hardship. The river carried stories downstream, and the forest watched without judgment.
Near the riverbank, in the dirt behind a modest home, another child trained.
Three years old.
Black hair damp with sweat clung to the child's forehead. Black eyes burned with fierce concentration, sharp beyond their age. In both hands was a simple stick—no more than a broken branch—held like a spear.
The child lunged forward, feet unsteady but aggressive. The stick struck air, then soil. Again. Again. There was no instructor. No watching crowd. Only instinct.
The child fell once, scraped skin, rose without a sound.
The posture was wrong. The form imperfect. But the intent was pure.
This was not play.
This was preparation.
The forest stood silent, the river flowing steadily, as if the land itself recognized what was being shaped there.
The world would one day know this child as Ryven Thalor.
A warrior, born into struggle.
The World Watches
The narrator sees them both
One beneath a ceiling of gold, surrounded by legacy and expectation.
One beneath open sky, shaped by earth and resolve.
Neither understands what they are yet. Neither knows the weight their names will carry. But Solvoryn already feels the shift.
Two paths begin to form.
One leads to the throne.
The other to the battlefield.
And somewhere in the turning of years, those paths will cross.
This is not the story of good and evil.
It is not the story of light and darkness.
This is the story of Solvoryn.
The story of two kings.
Kaelen Solthar.
Ryven Thalor.
And the world will bleed before it decides which one it deserves.