You have uncovered a page from the book “Musings of the Era of Change Philosophers”. Listen carefully, warrior, to my every word. The silver threads fluttered softly in the open breeze, as if each lived its own separate life. Then some unexpectedly broke loose, others became entangled, knotting themselves tightly together, whilst yet more began sprouting offshoots, branching out like a tree, continuing the infinite life cycle of this poorly understood, shimmering mass. Somewhere in the distance, in the twilight of dancing shadows, a woman, whose age no one knew, was standing. The great Sheara, brought into being by the Creator himself, was the very embodiment of perfection. Her beautiful face was not touched by wrinkles, her eyes sparkled with wisdom and had the serene composure that one might expect to find only in a venerable monk. She looked thoughtfully at her needle work and every now-and-then she would make some precise adjustment to the fine threads, and at other times she would softly touch her masterpiece with the tips of her fingers, caressing it. The web of Fate had been restless for many eras and it was awful for her, understanding what lay ahead, knowing that all she saw would happen with unswerving certainty. Sheara glanced briefly at the girl sitting by the fireplace. The young Magmaress cuddled a fluffy Pkhadd Bear as she looked deeply, passionately, into the fire. She spent every day sitting by the fire, peering into the crimson flames with only the sound of her breathing breaking the silence. But was she really a Magmar? No one knows for sure. A Heavenly haze has obscured forever the scene on which her tenacious gaze fell. Normal Magmars could never do that. Aeons ago, since the beginning of Time itself, souls and spirits, the sinful and the pious, the cursed and the blessed, came here or to the Ridge of Darkness to gather their strength and, once more, after centuries, to enter the World of the Dragons, to conquer the virgin land... To conquer or to surrender once more, and allow themselves to be crushed and dragged back into the revolving Wheel of Time, to disappear forever. Sheara pulled out one of the silver threads and began to read the past... Long, long ago, when the world was inhabited by Chaos, Humans and Magmars were expected to join forces with other races that inhabited the continents of Ogriy and Khair in order to destroy the army of evil spirits encroaching upon their world. But neither Sheara, nor the Creator saw in the web of Time the eternal war that was destined to break out between the two races. Bloody battles, thousands of them, scarred Age after Age, Era after Era, and nobody could remember what started the enmity. Magmars and Humans were born and died; they fought ever more violently, maiming children who were simply collecting flowers in the meadows, retaking portals, and what was all the slaughter for? They sacrificed all that was dear to them for glory, for Pyrrhic victories, for pointless battles... It continued like this until the Great Battle, the day that death and destruction reached its blood-soaked apogee, the day that the Creator's children ceased to yield to his will. He could no longer control their hatred, an uncontrollable hatred borne of the living soul. It seemed that life as anyone knew it was heading into obscurity, leaving the cycle of Time to continue forever its slow revolutions: the Dragons lost their Powers, the cities were filled with ghosts, the mountain tops became strewn with the skeletons of long-lost warriors, the once peaceful waters raged and foamed, crashing onto the shores. Everyone understood that the day was nigh when the Prophecy would be realised and the New Time would begin: the Legend would cease to be. The web shuddered and filled with a scarlet light. Sheara glanced back at the child... The small, fluffy Pkhadd, which the girl was clutching in her fingers as she stared inquisitively into the fire, melted from the heat. It was not the first toy that the girl had accidentally destroyed. She cast a guilty look at Sheara, but Sheara turned away and continued to read the web... A wise Elder, who called himself A'Aron the Just, began to search for a way to return peace to the lands of Faeo. He spent many long and tormented years studying the problem, gradually losing his Powers when all of a sudden it came to him. Love, stronger than time, stronger than evil, more durable than steel was the sword that could smite down this evil...and all with a kiss! One day, when watching a well-matched battle between a young Magmar and a young Human, the Creator entangled them with invisible threads which tangled together, getting tighter and tighter as the young warriors fought to free themselves, created a new permanent reality, unswerving, inescapable, unshakable. It was just as the Prophecy had foretold, the Creator had given them Love. Exactly a year later, the young warriors, banished by their people, despised and derided, fled into the Cave of Darkness, taking refuge among the souls of the Mad, where the wars of Chaos were born, and the lowest of the low arrived to try and find some peace. Days and nights soon became eternity... They closed their eyes, held each other's hands for comfort and listened to the chilling howls and loud whispers of the souls within the cave, echoing off the damp walls. Another year passed, among the living rocks and the Spirit of Fire, among the shouts and the cries, the screams and the wails when, one day, Kara appeared, a young Magmo-Human. The incarnation of a fearful Power and unbridled energy, she absorbed everything the survivors had remembered and accumulated. She absorbed the black soul and, saturated with blinding light, she became something that both Humans and Magmars had negated since the day the Great War had come to be. She was harmony: love and hatred, peace and chaos, light and darkness. She was the Great... Treading quietly, Sheara approached the girl. She had already seen the final Battle, sensed the loss of the Dragons, the end of herself, she knew that both races would disappear, Humans and Magmars would vanish into obscurity...and a new Era would begin, the world would submit to the new Magmo-Human power, a new Cycle would begin, the Wheel of Time would weave a new web of Fate... For that is what the Prophecy orders.
lol666 [9]
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等哥我上7级把你劈了 
but i will try my best 
windclick [10]
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You're in right place, just make them sell it, cuz they like to hide it .gif)
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orrin [12]
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... 
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patpat [20]
its1715 [5]
