Chronicles of Crowns and Chaos

"Pillars and the Storm Below"

From fertile dark and sovereign seed,

Rose those who dared to claim and lead.

They scaled the paths, defied the gods,

And left behind the soil and sod.

Qi danced like fire in their veins,

Through sky-born halls and soul-scarred plains.

Some shaped the body, flesh to star,

Others walked the soul afar.

Some whispered words and time obeyed,

While others fought with truth as blade.

Sects arose like forest fire—

Built on dream, on blood, on ire.

Empires bloomed, then cracked and bled.

Legacies formed the path ahead.

But when ambition's tide grew deep,

And lesser stars were left to weep—

Four giants strode from myth and flame,

Each bearing law, each bearing name:

The Gu of East, with soul-bound rite.

The Ebonridge, who ruled through might.

The Crest of South, where life still sang.

The Voidspire North, where silence rang.

They split the sky, they claimed the road,

They bore the realm on balanced load.

And though rebellion carved the land,

They ruled with strength—but not by hand.

Their reign would not be cruel or kind,

But shaped by will and ancient mind.

A peace was forged not through delight—

But through the cost of endless fight.

So ends the third and brightest age,

Still burning on in scroll and sage.

But flame that stills can one day burn—

And even pillars crack, in turn.