Bridging Worlds: Book 1 Celestoria's Time

In the remote corners beyond the boundaries of Arantle, cloaked in an air of mystique, lies the foreboding “Isle of Shadows.” It is a desolate terrain shrouded in perpetual dusk, where the enigmatic figure known as the Shadowmaster traverses with purpose. Clutched in his gloved hand is a bottle, its contents an inky obscurity that seems to swallow the very essence of light.

Amidst the eerie landscape, the Shadowmaster pauses, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly radiance. With an incantation that resonates with the whispers of the wind, he opens a portal to an immense, shapeless entity of pure darkness. Within the confines of his bottle, murmurs of lost souls echo, as if imprisoned and yearning for release.

Kneeling before the amorphous void, the Shadowmaster addresses the darkness, a reverence in his voice. “I have brought you the souls of mages, as promised,” he declares, presenting the bottle as an offering to the entity.

The dark entity acknowledges the gift with a voice that seems to emanate from the very shadows. “You have done well, Shadowmaster. The strength of our dominion grows with each soul delivered to the abyss.” Yet, in the next breath, the entity’s tone shifts, revealing a deeper revelation. “But there is a disturbance—a chosen one marked by the Sigil of Aureria. A threat to our dominion.”

The Shadowmaster’s eyes narrow as he listens intently to the entity’s command. He is entrusted with a grave mission—to seek out and extinguish the Chosen One. “Find this threat and erase it from existence,” the entity commands, its dark tendrils reaching towards the Shadowmaster’s mind.

Determined, the Shadowmaster rises, the weight of the mission heavy upon his shoulders. “I shall carry out your will,” he pledges, his voice tinged with an ominous resolve. The dark entity, satisfied with the assurance, imparts another directive.

“Sow discord among the twelve kings, fracture their unity,” the entity instructs, its voice weaving through the shadows. “In the chaos, our dominion will thrive.” The Shadowmaster nods, committing to the task of sowing seeds of discord among the leaders who safeguarded Arantle.

As the Shadowmaster departs the Isle of Shadows, an unsettling silence settles over the entity. The gravity of his mission lingers in the air, a palpable darkness that mirrors the impending chaos he is destined to unleash. The Shadowmaster is now bound by an oath—to extinguish the light of the Chosen One and to plunge Arantle into discord and shadows. The perilous journey ahead occupies his every step, as he contemplates the impending darkness and the extinguishing of the Chosen One’s light.