Beneath the eternal twilight of the Obsidian Spire, where the stars burned green and the winds whispered forgotten names, Vaelith stood alone. His crimson skin glowed under the eerie light, his emerald eyes gleamed like shattered gems, and his staff pulsed with raw arcane power.

Once, he had been a king, a ruler of shadow and wisdom, a master of forces beyond mortal comprehension. But power breeds fear, and fear breeds betrayal. His people, the very ones who had once knelt before him, cast him out, branding him a tyrant, a sorcerer of doom. They thought exile would break him. They were wrong.

The Betrayal of the Eternal Court

Vaelith was born under a blood moon, a sign of power and prophecy. From childhood, magic flowed through his veins like fire. He rose through the ranks of the Eternal Court, mastering spells that could reshape reality, command the dead, and bend the wills of lesser beings. His power was unrivaled, his intellect unmatched.

Yet the council of elders jealous, weak, and fearful sought to strip him of his gifts. They conspired against him, twisting the minds of the people, turning friend against friend. And on the night of his greatest triumph, when he stood on the verge of unlocking the secrets of immortality, they struck.

His palace burned. His allies were slaughtered. His magic was sealed with ancient runes, and he was cast into the void beyond time. But Vaelith was not so easily erased.

The Return of the Dark Flame

For centuries, he wandered the Nether Realms, learning from forbidden entities, striking pacts with the shadows, and unraveling the very fabric of existence. The runes of exile shattered, and he returned, more powerful than ever before.

The Eternal Court, once so mighty, had fallen into decay and corruption. Their golden halls were crumbling, their laws forgotten. And when Vaelith stepped through the great gates once more, draped in his silver cloak, wielding the staff of the abyss, the people trembled. They had banished a king. They had created a god.

Prophecy of the End

Now, he walks the world again, neither hero nor villain, bound by his own purpose. Some seek him for wisdom, others to end his reign before it begins anew. The whispers say he is searching for something an artifact, a name, a fate yet unwritten.
Perhaps he will reclaim his throne. Perhaps he will burn the world to ash. Or perhaps, in the end, Vaelith will reshape existence itself.

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