Gone is the Age of Gods.

  Its patrons are dead, its cities are burnt, and its memories long forgotten; tarnished by the petty rumours and hearsay of the graceless. Ragnarok and its ensuing tragedies plunged the lands of Allard into a centuries-long darkness, dooming man to wander a cruel world bent on extinguishing his spirit.

  Spurned by desolate wastelands, stalked by demons and shorn of all hope, the furtive man turned to his roots in a desperate plea for survival. Aeons of tribal warfare and ruthless bloodshed marked his path, turning him blind to the ironic demise of his very humanity. For many years, the lands of Allard lay deprived of benevolence, plagued by beasts and hollow shells parading as mankind.

  However, all was not yet lost, for just like an ember lingering within ash, the fading flame of the gods would find kindling within the hearts of man once more. Brilliantly flickering before his eyes, the flame surged through his blood and burst from his bosom. Vigorous and unrelenting, it raged through the lands, permeating the husks of the soulless, emboldening them with a genesis of a newfound faith.

  Axes were buried, temples were built, and empires were born. It was the first time in millennia that man had once again found his footing, rallying his kin under one banner. United, the armies of mankind scoured the land, reclaiming their thrones and undisputed dominion.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Seven Great Empires ruled as proxies for the gods, ushering in the Golden Age of Man:

  Pan Aegis, birthplace of the faith and land of dignified noblemen.

  Heliopolis, the unwavering beacon of civilisation in the ocean of sand.

  Mokosh, the gauche realm of mists, and land of the free.

  The Jades, the great eastern expanse, mystic and all-rich.

  Oya, the evergreen reserve of Earthly wonder.

  New Asgard, the reborn bastion of mankind’s prowess, and home to the nine tribes of the Aesir.

  Unfortunate for the triumphant man, all great things eventually come at an equal cost. Countless decades later, the peace once coveted by man would cast a shadow of its own ruin, reflecting a graceless past soiled with falsehoods.

  Clawing its way into the light, the immortal truth shattered alliances, fractured nations, and instilled division. As his castles crumbled to mounds and their fields turned to graves, man would soon witness the futility of his ambitions.

  Now, man understands. Chaos is inevitable. A self-sustaining phenomenon that feeds on the very sins committed in an effort to terminate it. Whether you struggle with it or against it, chaos was bound to grow, and all creation was doomed to yield before entropy.

  And yet, the man chose to persevere.