Lore

## 1AV |   FROM THE ASHES

### 2000 Aetum Vitae

Iastrimel was a continent that flourished on its unique fauna and flora. There was nothing quite like it to the denizens of that world. It was a haven of their own where they were free to do what they wish. It was a world considered young in the cosmos but even so, it held great potential.

Eight deities watched over this land, looking on from the heavens at the world they called home.

Stellaria, deity of Dryad; mother of the living. A gentle spirit of nature.

Penjim, deity of Gnome; whisperer of the earth. A tough man carved by the years.

Merellia, deity of Undine; giver of longevity. A boisterous woman of flowing water.

Nahmus, deity of Slyph; lord of prosperity. A man of time.

Gliddo, deity of Salamander; keeper of knowledge. A person of very little words.

Faldir, deity of Wisp; watcher of rebirth. A child of times gone by.

Selena, deity of Luna; mistress of the moonlight. A sibling of the moon's calling.

Kyim, deity of Shade; minstrel of the damned. Another half of the moon's beauty.

Together, they watched over the tiny organisms of life in Iastrimel. The land flourished with nature...but nothing more. They have lived for several millennia with only nothing but themselves and the land to sustain them. One day, Gliddo had proposed to the other deities the idea;

 “What if we fill this land with creations in our own likeness?”

And they did.

One by one, they began to fill the land of beings they created. Beings they could call their children.

Stellaria created the Talaens, a race of creatures that were once animals that now possess the intelligence and likeness of a man.

Merellia created the Naturas, a race that spoke of the ancient tongue and were born of the land of Iastrimel.

Gliddo created the Mortals, a nomadic race that roamed the land. Mankind.

But that was not enough, for soon, the races began to mingle among the others not of their kind and began to give life to new hybrids, much to the deities' surprise.

Nahmus took charge of the Nicaens, a race of Mortals with animal-like features.

Penjim took charge of the Essencias, beings of the Natura and Mortal lineage,  a rare race.

The other three deities were content to simply watch over and bless the creations with their own gifts.

Kyim with the ability of communicating in unfamiliar and unique tongues.

Selena with the whispers of ideas and interests that spurred creativity.

Faldir with blessings of fertility and marriages amongst themselves.

All was great and wonderful in their now occupied lands. The land was no longer just the deities but now their children were among them. There was peace…

But fragile ideas such as peace never lasted.

Because soon the races began a dispute amongst themselves. Fighting on who were the most deserving of the deities’ blessings, who were the supreme race, who were allowed to occupy the lands… Things were no longer as they seemed in their land. Conflict had risen among the races and the once peaceful land was now bathed in strife. Soon, a war was waged that would last a long era of millennia.

## 2AV |   FALLING FROM GRACE

### 2990 Aetum Vitae

The deities have weaved Iastrimel as a land of dreamlike wonder:  a realm that blossomed with chattering woodlands, vines of crystal-like rivers and rolling lush green fields, all embraced by a vast expanse of ocean that teemed with all kinds of life. Its new dwellers, as created by the deities, thrived in their own ways, soon yielding scores of civilization that grew smoothly overtime with their own cultures and ideologies…

All this while, the races lived harmoniously in and out their circles—mingling and intermingling, trading and adapting—that it soon became inevitable for the races to see lands beyond their own, and to inwardly yearn for something more. Trades and exploration, upspringing from the creatures’ need for resources, eventually turned into a conquest for lands and riches.

Now, the Mortals, in their short life spans and relatively impulsive behavior, deemed it best to expand their territory on account of their ever-growing population, an act that was taken negatively by the Talaens, the innately fierce and proud race, who were at the time similarly driven by the mortals’ land-claiming argument. The two races’ rivalry for land subjugation soon rose into a rampant competition for resources, and eventually, an unspoken criterion on who could be claimed as the mightiest race of them all.

The strife between the two races grew, overstepping the boundaries of the other Astrians in due course, that even the Naturas, who pledged neutrality, were forced to isolate themselves in order to defend their ancestral lands. They chose to merge with nature, secluding themselves in their own self-made paradise: a series of floating islands that hovered over the tainted earth filled with their own uncontrollable rage.

However, not everyone was as privileged as the Naturas in terms of escaping the bloodshed. The halflings, the fruit of interbreeding among the warring races, were tossed about throughout the inflicted lands of Iastrimel, known to have existed but not quite acknowledged. The Nicaens and the Essencias lived for the sake of surviving, be it in the form of hiding in the shadows away from the frontiers of war, or emerging from their guarded lives in order to pledge allegiance to either the Mortals or the Talaens —everything they did was generally done in accordance to some sense of security.

Like a ticking time bomb that has been waiting forever to explode, wars broke out in several parts of Iastrimel, in time devouring the lives even of innocent Astrians into darkness.

The once tranquil glades and quiet shores became witnesses to bloodshed propelled by hate and greed.  The war had continued to leave upon an undesirable mark on the hearts of all the people. With no place to relinquish the hatred so deeply rooted in their veins, the Mortals and Talaens continued their feud from long millennia passed. Food ran scarce and hearts grew cold, and for centuries, the identity of an ‘Astrian’ is no more…

...for the people of Iastrimel lived clinging to their races’ names and identity, holding onto the prideful imaginations that blinded them from remembering that long before everything else, they were all once a family.

## 3AV |  THE AFTERMATH

### 5000 Aetum Vitae

Three millenniums later,  the era of war came to a standstill. What awaited were peaceful times… or what was believed to have been a false sense of peace amongst them.

A treaty, made in dedication to those who were lost in the previous wars in their long running history, was consigned for the purpose of respecting and acknowledging each of the races’ worth and existence.

But the pain and suffering would never truly be forgotten. Only swept under the rug until another day comes when it resurfaces once more.

One such soul never forgot the pain and suffering he had gone through but chose instead to use those feelings to start himself unto a new path, believing in the idea that if he could do it for himself,  it wouldn't be hard for others to follow suit.

## 4AV|   THE NAMELESS RESTHOUSE

### 500x Aetum Vitae

[ x ]

The miracle came in the form of a resthouse that went by no name. There was no sign to indicate someone of its nature but only if one goes through the doors does one understand its purpose.

It was the story of a man who had survived the war. A veteran who wanted a place to call his own when home was nowhere to be found in the battlefield. A place where he deemed it safe for anybody to feel like they belong regardless of their race and ethnicity.

In his own words,

> *“I wanted a place where anybody would feel safe and secure. Feel the comfort that rightfully belongs to them. To make themselves feel like they truly belong in this world. ”*
>
>

He wanted somewhere to call home.

For the outcasts, the desperate or even the damned, that resthouse was seen as a beacon of hope in the flourishing arms of nature. Whatever their reasons were for entering, it mattered not. As long as he knew there was still good in them, guests were never turned away from the front doors, no matter who it was… it still didn’t matter.

Anybody is and was always welcomed with open arms.

Yet, not everyone wanted for such a thing to exist. For if there was peace, where would all their hatred and fear be placed?�

## 5AV|  WHAT COMES KNOCKING

### 500x Aetum Vitae

[ x ]

To some, it may be nothing but another hopeless endeavor, a forlorn dream that will soon crumble in the face of reality. But just as tongues of fire can be ignited from a spark even on a cold, cold night, the old man pursued what he thought was best for all of Iastrimel.

He started.

He started with what he thought he could in that moment: to bury the distant yet painful memory of the war in heaps of a newfound ambition that, though small, had a great longing for establishing the haven everyone can call their own.

But where else could he start, except from his own home?

In his home started the foundation of a nameless resthouse. Be it the trick of time or the blessing of the deities, the resthouse overtime garnered a reputation that preceded his own expectations.

The people who were lost and longing for the right way, those who had been damned by the system, ones who have lost their will to live… All of them ended up on the inn’s doorsteps and were welcomed warmly. Never had they been turned away for their differences.

But even the strongest of foundations can tremble when confronted by a destructive wave. What seemed like the resthouse's noble intentions became its fatal flaw in the end.

> *“Dreams fade away and are replaced with the cruel reality.”*
>
>

And that's what the nameless resthouse faced in its own trying times. A reality that only proved how ugly someone's heart can truly be when backed into a dire corner.

The ghost of a war strengthened by millenia of resentment cannot easily be eradicated among the factions, as prejudice instilled on the people's hearts grew roots that reached great depths through the generations.

The Fall from Grace was already a nightmare enough on its own that it became something people would want to forget, but as it was part of the people's common history, its horrors were passed down from one mouth to another, its episodes marked on paper and engraved on gold; the Astrians, as a whole, refused to forget about it. But even its story, one of the few things the Astrians had in common, became an object of separation. For most voices that breathed the war’s tale told a slightly different version, biased and prejudiced depending on the blood flowing within their veins... twisted as to favor one’s own ethnicity.

The Mortals' commemorative statues, the Talaens' festivals, the Naturas' scrolls, the Essencias' whispers, even the Nicaens' running tales... each told a history glorifying their own and dismissing what faults each may have.

Perhaps this was the reason why not everyone viewed the resthouse, even at its purest intentions, as a beacon of light.  Blinded and brainwashed by a closed and consanguine mindset, races of different origins treated the place with disgust and loathing.

But it was people’s nature to protect what they treasure the most… even in the face of chaos,  they'd fight harder than they thought.

And so, he fought. He fought for honor and his beliefs, he fought to protect the home he'd finally been able to have… the dream that had eluded him for the better part of his life.

Nonetheless, it was as though fate did not have that in store for him; as like sand between his fingers,  they once again fell away into the vast desert, lost.

What could an old man do when even fate does not give him what he feels truly belongs to him? One could only dream of the things yet to come and that's all he could ever continue to do in the face of this invisible adversary: dream.

## 6AV|   FANNING THE EMBERS

### 50xx Aetum Vitae

[ x ]

With the war long since left behind in the past,  one person finds himself stuck in that cycle of remembering the forgotten.

Often he found himself thinking, “Would it have been better if things turned out differently than before?” even before he knew what it was he wanted in the end. But he knew better. What happened in the past should remain in the past and that they should be looking forward to the future that was laid upon for them.

Packing his things without further notice, he prepares himself to go on a journey. With a single letter neatly written and sealed with his initials, he leaves the establishment to his only grandson.

They weren’t something important for leaving nor were they noble reasons…

It was simply a journey to the beautiful world that awaits them all.

And so he left.

## 7AV|   DO WHAT YOU WILL

### 50xx Aetum Vitae

With his grandfather gone on an indefinite journey, having left him with only the ambiguous words of farewell and a letter by his bedside, the grandson simply finds his grandfather’s letter and the land’s deed all written in his name now. He was now the owner of the  nameless inn that used to be filled with memories of long time pass.

It was too much of a difficult task for a child barely into his teens, but he wasn’t alone. He still had people who believed in the dream of keeping the inn alive and they continued to do their best to survive the economy.

But word soon gets out that the previous owner was no longer around to watch the place and people with self-centered goals began to appear at their doorstep with intentions of closing down the place permanently. It was a losing battle, he knew, yet he wanted to keep the dream alive even if it meant he had to ask for loans.

To do that, he would have to make sacrifices.

With that mindset now firm in his heart, the grandson sells off parts of the inn as they refurbish it into a cafe business instead. Although that solved the problem temporarily, it was by no means the perfect solution to clearing up their debts.

It was only a temporary solution to a much bigger problem.

## 8AV|   NEW AND HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

### 50xx Aetum Vitae

[ x ]

Keeping a place open required a lot of things. People,  time and money… None of which were left after the inn had long since closed down due to reasons and decaying dreams. Having no footholds for him to use in his quest to make the shared dream into reality, Lucas had no other choice but to sell off portions of the old inn and the land,  leaving him with nothing else but an ample area to use as the cafe’s main hall.

It was a tough decision but it was just a sacrifice that he would have to make in order to pursue the dream. There will come a time when he'll get those places back again because for now,  he's going to start from a much more humble beginning than ever before.

But with only enough people to count in one hand,  there was work to be done and it would be impossible for just them,  even if he so likely didn't want to believe it.

They needed help. Not just any help, but the kind that didn't require large paychecks or sweet words to be swayed.

Just simple sincerity and maybe a bit of hope in their eyes would be more than enough. So they set into town with their stacks of flyers in hand,  holding unto their small light of hope.

And this is where our new story starts.