The skies of Noctis stretched like a canvas of light and shadow, speckled with ethereal glimmers. The Rift of Varamir, a bottomless chasm where the air seemed to pulse with a life of its own, cast shifting hues across the surrounding plains. The light danced, at times gentle as a whisper, at others harsh like a scream.

Around the chasm, a small scientific expedition bustled, scarcely aware of the enormity of what they sought to understand. The air was thick with tension, an invisible weight pressing on their souls like a silent omen.

Professor Halrix, an elderly man with parchment-like skin, stood apart from the group. His gaze was fixed on the oscillations of the Éthéra around the Rift.

He was a survivor, a witness to the devastation brought by the Primordial Fracture, though it had occurred centuries, ago.

“Professor, the readings indicate increased instability. The Éthéra is intensifying” a young scientist said, his voice trembling slightly.

Halrix nodded slowly. “The Éthéra doesn’t intensify. It remembers.”

The young man frowned, but before he could respond, Halrix placed his gnarled hand on a stone tablet etched with ancient symbols.

“Listen to me, all of you. You think you are studying a natural anomaly. But what you see here is the memory of a broken world.”

He paused, sweeping his gaze over the group with solemn gravity.

“Long ago, before the Luminous City of Soléa was built, before the Ethereal Forests of Dravyn breathed alongside the Awakened, the Scholars of Dawn reigned.

Their knowledge was unmatched, but their ambition doomed them.

They sought to imprison the Éthéra, this living energy, in machines and artifacts.

It was their fatal mistake.”

The scientists listened, caught between fascination and skepticism.

“They shattered the balance. And the Primordial Fracture followed, a cataclysm that reduced their civilization to ashes.”

A faint tremor rippled through the ground. The measuring instruments emitted a sharp whine.

The Éthéra, as if awakened by the old man’s words, pulsed through the air in undulating waves.

Halrix turned slowly toward the Rift. “This chasm is not merely a scar. It is a warning.”

----

Miles away, across the vast expanse of the Lystral Plains, a young man gazed at the sky.

He didn’t know why he felt drawn to the empty stretch of land, nor why his heart beat to the rhythm of a silent melody.

The air seemed charged, like the moments before a storm, yet no clouds darkened the horizon.

For weeks now, strange phenomena had been happening around him. The emotions of others seemed to influence the surrounding nature. Anger brought violent winds. Joy filled the air with a soft, comforting warmth.

But he spoke of it to no one.

Sitting in the grass, his gaze wandered across the hills. Something stirred deep within him, a force he didn’t understand but could no longer ignore.

A rustle behind him snapped him out of his thoughts.

“You feel it, don’t you?”

He turned sharply to see a hooded figure standing motionless. The man’s dark silhouette contrasted sharply with the soft light of the plains.

“Who are you?” he asked warily.

The man gave the faintest hint of a smile. “An observer. And you, Éléon Vahelis—are you aware of  who … i mean, what you are?”

The question sent a shiver through him. “How do you know my name?”

The man stepped closer. His eyes, shining and inscrutable, seemed to pierce directly into Éléon’s soul.

“You bear a name that will echo across Noctis.

But you have not yet awakened your true potential.”

Before Éléon could respond, the air around the man wavered. Tendrils of Éthéra coiled around him, and then he vanished, leaving only a faint metallic scent in his wake.

----

In the Ethereal Forests of Dravyn, another event was unfolding.

A silver-haired woman, draped in a cloak of living foliage, rested her hand against the bark of a tree. The wood shifted beneath her touch, changing texture as luminous patterns pulsed softly.

“The Absolute is stirring,” she murmured.

Behind her, a young Awakened boy with glowing green eyes stepped forward. “Should we seek him out?”

The woman shook her head.

“No. Not yet. The Éthéra will guide him to where he needs to be. But the shadows are searching for him as well.”

She closed her eyes, listening to the whispers of the wind and the leaves.

----

And deep within the Canyons of Ferror, the shadows stirred.

A man in black armor, his face hidden behind an onyx mask, stood before a council of men and women clad in austere robes.

“We have identified a potential bearer of the Absolute,” he announced.

Silence fell like a stone.

“Capture him. By any means necessary. We cannot allow him to slip beyond our grasp.”

The council nodded in unison. The order was given.

----

The skies of Noctis remained calm, but the fragile balance of the continent wavered.

Thus begins the story of Éléon Vahelis—and of a power that would either redeem Noctis… or unravel it