Braznychia - Forging a Nation through War (HISTORICAL ACCOUNT)

Zaltava-Braznychia

AUTUMN, 917AR

The sun rose over the city of Baraguzhin, hundreds of kilometers from the city of Zaltava, the capital of the ruling Zaltava Dynasty of Braznychia. It was a day like any other, welcomed by the cockling of the roosters, the sun low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the orange landscape that marks the peak of autumn. The central market was already bustling with activity at this early hour, for a shipment of fresh goods had just arrived to the city. People were rushing to buy their share of the goods, for the long and brutal winter is rapidly approaching, and along with it, the scarcity of food shipments.

Among the crowd was a young man, with straight black hair, grey eyes, and a small mustache beginning to grow on his upper lip. He wore a thick brown coat to help insulate his body in the cold Zaltavan Weather. He was Sergey Timoshenko, a young man in his early twenties, and one of the members of the city’s civilian government. Timoshenko was known by his peers as an extremely pro-monarchist and pro-Zaltavan person, especially odd given Baraguzhin’s distance to the nation’s capital, as well as the common anti-monarchist and pro-autonomy sentiment shared by many of the city’s residents. But this did not stop Sergey from expressing his support for the monarchist system, and for the regime that had long ruled the nation.

However, the system of monarchist rule had radically changed years ago, with the early death of Emperor Katukov from cardiac arrest, with none of his children old enough to rule the nation. With the Zaltavan Throne empty, a new man stepped into the scene to fill the power vacuum left behind. His name? Martin Zhigunov. Zhigunov was no stranger to politics, serving as the head of the civilian government of Braznychia. And with no one on the throne, Zhigunov ascended to become the nation’s ruler, marking the first time in centuries that a person not from the Zaltava bloodline ruled the nation.

Sergey was not a fan of the new Zhigunov administration. He viewed it as foreign, alien, and a mockery of Braznych culture. His friend, who serves within the Imperial Court, Marcus Savrasov shared the same sentiment as Sergey. The two had been friends since childhood, with Savrasov leaving their tiny village when he was 16 for the capital, and managed to rise the ranks of the Imperial Court.

As Zhigunov’s administration went on, he went on to become more despised by the conservatives of the nation, like Sergey. He was seen as corrupt, who focused on keeping his inner circle happy, but many believed it was also because Zhigunov pushed for radical reforms to the Braznych system, including the separation of religion and state, the granting of rights to other sapient species, embracing technology and turning backs to the old tradition of magic, and legally permitting same-sex activity within the country. These reforms — seen by many people like Sergey, destroyed the nation. For them, Zhigunov destroyed the authenticity of Braznych culture. Zhigunov sold the nation to foreign ideals. Zhigunov destroyed the Zaltava Dynasty, and by extension, the idea of Braznychia as a nation.

And so, many people would make attempts on Zhigunov’s life. One of them was Savrasov himself, taking part in a massive plot to assassinate Zhigunov while he was visiting the city of Kreszov. Unfortunately, a government spy had infiltrated their ranks, foiling their plan and he along with all of his comrades involved in the plot was soon executed.

The death of Savrasov deeply affected Timoshenko. He viewed Marcus as his only true friend, who had been there for him all these years, and who he accompanied in return. Even as children, they always played together, and spent hours with each other.

He was inconsolable.
He slowly began to isolate himself from society, wandering off into the wilderness for days at a time.

On this particular night, Sergey found himself sitting alone on the same hill where both of them used to play. In front of him lay a single candle and a single rose, a silent tribute to the man he valued the most. As he sat there silently, he recalls the time when both of them were still young, playing in the vast steppe.

The wind blows across the Braznych Steppe. Nomadic herders roam the steppe, with their huge flocks of sheep. Marcus and Sergey sit on a hill, overlooking the area.

Marcus: Hey Serge!, I bet you cant beat me down this hill!
Sergey: We'll see about that. Race you there.

The two gather at the top of the path that leads down the hill. "3..2..1, GO!!"
Marcus and Sergey run down the hill as fast as they could go, jumping over numerous obstacles on the way. In the end, Sergey ended up winning the race, and both of them laughed as they reached the bottom. A herdsman approached them, looking annoyed. "Shhh...quiet. You're scaring the sheep!"

Marcus and Sergey look at the man with terror, and quickly run from the area, chuckling as they dash away.

Fifteen years later. The Zaltava-Ogura war breaks out, and Marcus told Sergey that he was being drafted to the military. Sergey was devastated, as this meant this may be the last time he would see him again. Nevertheless, he said his goodbyes, and hugged him one last time.

"I will always remember our time together. And the cool winds of the steppe we call home."

Marcus boards a train and leaves, leaving Sergey alone. He had no one to turn to, as his parents had abandoned him when he was 2 years old. He was taken in by a herder family in Xanakva, before they and their entire flock died in a snowstorm. He was truly isolated, and was lonely without Marcus.

Five years had passed, and Sergey never heard from Marcus. Not a single letter. He began to think that he was dead. Until one morning, Marcus arrived back home, much to Sergey's delight.

"You're finally home!", Sergey exclaims!

The two hug each other for the first time in five years. "I missed you, old friend", said Marcus.

From that day on, Sergey would embark on a mission to avenge his dear friend, and finally mold the Braznychia of his dreams. His ideal nation. He was going to do what many before him could not. An endeavor that cost people’s lives. He was going to assassinate Zhigunov.

The following day, Sergey stocked up on weapons, and set off for the capital, Zaltava. He had received news that Zhigunov would be giving a speech in the city’s main square in celebration of a major national holiday, and he was going to be there, waiting.

The day came. Zhigunov had ascended the elevated rostrum that overlooked the large crowd standing before him. He straightens his suit and adjusts his posture, before beginning his speech.

“People of-”

He wasnt even able to get the first sentence out of his mouth when a loud gunshot was heard echoing throughout the area. Zhigunov collapsed to the ground, the bullet penetrating his skull, and was soon pronounced dead.

The assassination of Zhigunov sent shockwaves throughout the nation. For many of his supporters, it was devastating news, the assassination of one of Braznychia’s best leaders. While for his opponents, it was a somber yet necessary event to steer the nation into a new direction. One that would hopefully be better than the nation of yesterday.

Oh how they were so wrong.

Due to Sergey's assassination of Premier Zhigunov, the nation fell into anarchy and chaos. The rule of the Zaltava Dynasty had ended in a flash, and along with it, the nation’s many different ethnic minorities, who had long been treated as second-class citizens under Zaltavan rule found themselves free. And not just free, in a position to secure power for themselves in a new Braznychia — one radically different from the one that had preceded it. Multiple factions from all across the nation rose up and took arms, scrambling to gain power during the sudden power vacuum and establish a regime of their own, leading to the Braznychian State's collapse in 918AR, being divided between a series of rebel states and independent warlords.

It was a day which would live on in infamy within the annals of Braznych history. All over Braznychia, people awoke on the morning of the 10th of March, to find that they were now living under a completely different state, or under the rule of a single warlord. Sergey had unintentionally plunged the nation into chaos, and in the process, destroyed the nation he had so desperately tried to save.

There’s no undoing time now.
The Zaltava Dynasty has fallen.
A new Braznychia is being born.

For now, the nation erupts into the biggest civil war seen in it's history. The Braznychian People fight amongst themselves, for the whims and dreams of their overlords.

Zaltava-Braznychia

As the civil war intensified, the nation was divided into several large factions, which began fighting each other for consolidation of the Empire. Among the most powerful were:

The Crimson Clans
LEADER: Sofia Sokolova
Capital: Uzt-Xanakva (Pop:230,000)

Sofia Sokolova pops the cork off her bottle of vodka, chugging it in one go. She wipes her mouth, before looking at her massive army, composed of men from the many different tribes that populated Northern Braznychia. They were called "The Crimson Clans", for their brutal efficiency in battle and feared nature. They were mostly on horseback, as their ancestors have fought for thousands of years, but they were also known for their skilled use of the ancient art of magic - far better than most people could. Long oppressed by foreign powers, they now desire the ability to forge their own future.

For Sokolova, it was a surreal moment to be commanding the army her father had once sat at the helm of before he died. These men, were her pride and honor. These men would be the ones to secure her throne.

As they prepared for battle, she gave her men a pre-battle speech.

"People of the Crimson Tribes!", she begins.

"Today marks an important day in our history. For too long we have been oppressed by the foreign powers. They pillaged our lands, slaughtered our people, all in the name of their personal gain. They have oppressed us for far too long. Every day, our ancestors looked up to the stars and wondered. How much more and how much longer will we have to suffer?

Today, we find ourselves independent, for the first time in our long history. We now have the power to shape our own destiny. We have the power to decide our own fate. To all our comrades, who lie on the crimson Earth, we have done it! We have done what you could have only dreamed of achieving.

Freedom.

But freedom is never guaranteed long term. We must fight for it, safeguard it, and preserve it for future generations. And as the new dawn for the people of Braznychia shines apon us, tis is exactly what we will do.

Once again, LONG LIVE THE CRIMSON CLANS. "

The many tribes erupted in applause as Sokolova gave her rousing speech.

Shai Hin
Leader: Warlord Shai Hin
Capital: Huoshang (Pop: 7,890)

Warlord Shai Hin looks upon his lands, a small peninsula overlooking the sea across from the lands of Xara. He had full dominion over this territory after the fall of Zhigunov. In the fields, thousands of slaves work tirelessly, farming crops and on the borders of his realm, erecting defenses for a possible invasion from the surrounding factions.

His army is rather small by Braznych standards, and so decided to strike a deal with the neighboring Crimson Clans led by Sofia Sokolov. Relations between the two grew warm, and soon, Shai Hin's army functioned essentially as a member of the Crimson Clans, although was not officially admitted into the Union. Shai Hin is by far the least populated state formed after the collapse, home to only 10,500 people.

Republic of Zakamensk
Leader: Petrov Vladimirovich
Capital: Zakamensk (Pop:560,002)
Petrov, the city mayor of Zakamensk buttoned up his suit, and put on his military uniform from his time in the Zaltavan Army. He was no stranger to war, far from it. He had fought many battles before, and this one was no different. Just another battle, just another war. But he knew he was aging. At 53 years old, he was not the man he used to be back during his army days. But he was confident he still had what it takes to defend the new Republic he now found himself at the helm of.

The bustling Port City of Zakamensk had largely escaped the chaos of the Zaltavan collapse, due to it's distance from much of the conflict hotspots. Still, it's position as a bustling trade city made it a desirable target to acquire in the eyes of many of it's neighbours. And with their vastly superior armies, they didnt stand a chance if one were to mount an overwhelming offensive.

But with great riches comes great influence. This led him to essentially use it's massive gold reserves to bribe it's neigbours into not attacking the city, keeping the people of Zakamensk safe for now. However, deep down, he knew that this was only a temporary solution at best, especially against the more powerful and developed factions towards the industrialized south, and so, embarked on a campaign to fortify his city from attacks. He created a massive navy from the city's shipyards, eventually rivalling the navies of actual established nations. He also ordered a wall to be erected surrounding the city, in order to further safeguard it from attacks. A wall so tall, it blocked the sunlight during the early and later hours of the day.

And from then on, Zakamensk would isolate itself from the rest of the nation.

Principality of Voznesensk
Leader: Vasily Novikov
Capital: Voznesensk (Pop:450,000)
The principality of Voznesensk was another newly formed city state to the north, bordering the aforementioned Republic of Zakamensk. Unlike it's northern neighbor, the city of Voznesensk did not have a similarly large economy. Even though this lessened it's ability to pay off it's neighbours in case they were planning an attack, this also functioned as a blessing in disguise, as it made the city a rather undesirable target due to the lack of benefit from conquering it.

Vasily Novikov took command of the small state immediately after the Zaltavan Collapse, and turned it into a neutral party, that wouldn't participate in any of the conflicts that were happening all across the lands of Braznychia. In his eyes, Neutrality was the only good solution.

Kara Khanate
Leader: Kara Yaroslavky
Capital: Manzar-Uul (Pop:190,120)
The Kara Khanate was formed by the then leader of the Yaroslav Oblast, and a member of the Yaroslav Dynasty, Kara Yaroslavky. She was once one of the warlords from the Crimson Clans, but she expanded enough to break away from them. The Kara Khanate spanned across much of the east of Braznychia.

Tyukansk and Makhibka
Leader: Ivan Lebedev
Both Tyukansk and Makhivka are democratic republics, in which it's citizens have the right to choose their own government. It is renowned for the freedoms of it's citizens, a rare occurrence in the largely authoritarian nation.

South Braznych Liberation Front and the Braznych Purification Army
Leader: Semyon Shaposhnikov
The SBLF and the BPA are factions formed after the Zaltava Collapse. Their mission is to liberate Braznychia from the so called "forces of oppression". Both factions are renowned anti-fascists and heavily oppose feudalism.

Zaltava-Braznychia

And all that was left was Sergey. He had no interest in joining any of the major factions. He was going to create his own. A new faction, rooted in the principles of restoring the Zaltava Dynasty to it's former glory. To bring the nation back to it's olden days, where monarchism prevailed, and religion playing a big role in the state. He would call it - the Divine Order of Braznychia, or the Holy Braznych Empire. Right from it's founding, the Holy Braznych Empire controlled many of the country's largest cities, including the former capital of Zaltava. The Holy Braznych Empire would become one of the most powerful breakaway states from Zaltava, with around 340,000 men in it's army.

As the thunderous noise of the cannons echo throughout the vast Braznychian Plain, Sergey sits down on a bench, contemplating his next move. He had just torn the nation apart, and now, he had to make sure that the Holy Braznych Empire won the civil war. But the road ahead would not be easy. Aside from the mentioned factions - there were other smaller factions throughout Braznychia, namely Yazhansk, Khoronenets, and the Ethereal Realms.

These were the first targets. They had but small armies compared to his, and their governments were notoriously fragile and susceptible to military muscle. During the first few years of the civil war, Sergey would lead a campaign of conquest against these smaller factions, expanding HBE control over much of the southern third of Braznychia.

With the fall of many of the smaller factions, Sergey turned his attention to the bigger players. He led the Holy Braznych Empire to many victories, especially over the South Braznych Liberation Front, Tyukansk and Makhvika, utterly decimating their forces. Soon, Sergey's forces reached the outskirts of Zakamensk, which posed a formidable obstacle to their plans to expand northwards. This was it - the final major hurdle before guaranteed victory. The city must fall.

The Battle for Zakamensk
The graveness of the situation dawned on Petrov as nearly a million men gathered outside the city walls. It was an army the size he had never seen before, their legions stretching as far as the eye could see. They outnumbered the residents of Zakamensk nearly two to one, and possessed near unlimited firepower. But before Sergey's army stormed the city walls, he was given one last opportunity to surrender the city. One last opportunity to escape certain annihilation.

Petrov hesitated for a moment. What was his best choice? Should he give in to his demands? Or should he fight to the bitter end? His own army, though small, was extremely skilled in magic, far more skilled than Sergey's legions. Maybe, with this advantage, they stood a chance.

But what if they didnt? Would this be the end?

Eventually, after much back and forth, the response was given.

"To hell with you!"

And with that, the Battle for Zakamensk had begun. The city's defenders manned the titanic walls surrounding the city, casting spells and curses at the waves of men rushing and storming the city gates. For a moment, it looked as if they had the upper hand. Sergey's legions could barely get close to the city walls before they were struck down by powerful spells that resulted in fates worse than death.

But soon, the sound of a deafening explosion echoed throughout the battlefield. The wall was broken. Hundreds of thousands of men stormed the walls and into the city itself, like water rushing out of a broken dike. The legions filled with the streets, plundering, looting and killing all they could see. The once prosperous city of Zakamensk now lay in ruin, two-thirds of it's people lay dead on the battlefield, and columns of smoke bellowed from the earth the city once stood on.

Petrov, unwilling to let himself be captured by the enemy, committed suicide in his basement, ending his life before Sergey's army had the chance to kill him themselves. With the fall of Zakamensk, victory was all but assured for the Holy Braznych Empire. By the year 922, the Holy Braznych Empire had consolidated most of Braznychia, with the exception of the territories held by Warlord Shai Hin and the Crimson Clans. The Holy Braznych Empire was at last, victorious.

But the war came at a cost. Tens of millions of people across Braznychia lay dead, with many of the survivors blaming Sergey for most of the deaths. It was partially true, as Sergey was the one who accidentally kickstarted the civil war with his assassination of Zhigunov, and the fact that his army was notorious for committing numerous atrocities during their campaigns. But Sergey believed it was also due to the actions of the other warring nations that caused so much death and mourning across the nation of Braznychia, a sentiment many of his loyalists also share.

But now was not a time to point fingers as who was to blame. Now was a time of mourning, and to remember the valiant sacrifices of those who had given their lives during the war. The golden flag of the new Empire now waved proudly over the skylines of Zaltava, with Sergey looking over the city from the elevated balcony of the Imperial Palace. For him, it was both his greatest accomplishment, and a silent tribute to his fallen friend, Savrasov.

And thus...the Holy Braznych Empire was officially born, as a nation birthed from grief and pain. The Braznych nation would enter a new era.

Zaltava-Braznychia

An Unholy Empire - the rise of the Divine Order

Sergey's Dream Fulfilled

The snow thaws to signal the coming of spring
The Dove of the Vernal Equinox, peace it will bring
For the guns had fallen silent last night
As the land of Two Equals is once more bathed in light

From the broken glass, a phoenix is born
The Holy Banner, the land it adorns
A mosaic of banners now united with one
But yet there is much more that needs to be done.

The city of Zaltava was definitely at its most peaceful in years, ever since the Zaltava Dynasty collapsed all those years ago. Work could finally be done on rebuilding much of the ruined city, and life had once again returned to normal. Cars once more filled the busy streets, and the town square bustled with life. The year was now 625AR, three years after the end of the brutal civil war that had plunged the country into chaos. All that uncertainty - it's all over. There was no doubt as to who was in charge now.

Sergey looks over the nation he just rose to power in, relishing in the power and riches of the position he found himself in. All of it, every building, every river, every town, every street, and every person as far as the eye could see - all of it he ruled. It was a surreal feeling for the now 48-year-old Sergey, to rule the nation he had lived in all these years. He crowned himself "Blessed Regent" of the Holy Braznych Empire and ruled like a monarch. He placed absolute power in himself, and only kept a trusted group of advisors in his inner circle, reminiscent of the days before the rule of Zhigunov.

His true motives were debated, but the Holy Braznych Empire was in Sergey's mind, a breath of fresh air from the system that caused so much pain and suffering. A return to the old glory days of the Zaltava Dynasty. A period of reprieve to a war-battered nation. However, for the people of Braznychia, this was far from the case. In fact, in the future, some will go as far as to say that it got much worse under the HBE than during the entire civil war. But for now, the nation of Braznychia slowly started returning to normal following the disastrous last few decades. Cities were rebuilt, the economy started growing again, and the population rebounded. Even in the areas not controlled by Sergey, like the Crimson Clans, largely cooperated with his government, wanting to end the bloody civil war that had gripped them for so long. Life improved during the infancy of the empire, in a period known as the "Three Hundred Year Peace".
During this period, the Empire flourished. Sergey had enacted widespread reforms to the Braznychian system unseen during the previous Zaltava period, such as allowing peasants to own the land they tilled, dramatically increasing agricultural output in the notoriously agriculture-poor and climate-cursed nation. He developed the country's roads and transportation network, reducing the travel time between the country's two largest cities, Zaltava and Zakamensk, to only six hours, down from the twelve it had used to be.

Zaltava-Braznychia

Chapter 2 - The Elixir of Youth

The biggest enemy to Sergey now wasn't some human adversary, but by the unstoppable force of time itself. The hairs on his head slowly began to turn a shade of grey, displaying the harsh truth - Sergey was aging. He was now in his late forties, around the average lifespan for a person in the country without the use of magic, at 53 years old. To make matters worse, he suffered from numerous health problems such as chronic hypertension, diabetes and had developed emphysema from his terrible smoking habits. He knew that all his work in creating his new empire would go to waste if he passed mere years after. The inevitable prospect of death, it seemed, was now his greatest enemy.
A sudden cardiac arrest struck Sergey one morning in July, which almost killed him. For him, it was a sign that the end was near. Death had come knocking on his door, and he was only stop by the fact that he refused to open it. It seemed hopeless.

But then, he remembered something. Tales of a long lost relic from Braznychia's past, that promised salvation from his woes. Shortly after his near death experience, Sergey had ordered his men to search for the Elixir of Youth, also known as the Elixir of Life - a mysterious and powerful elixir created by the Ancient Braznych Sage Sylvia. It was a mysterious and powerful elixir that extended a person's life by centuries, keeping them in their youthful state indefinitely, and most importantly, it had a powerful magic that made them hard to kill. It was the ultimate key to staying in power for an autocratic ruler like Sergey.

The next week, Sergey had put together a team of his best hunters to go search for the Elixir of Life, led by a trusted and skilled survivalist Antonov Izhevka. The only problem was, no one knew where it was kept. All that people knew was that it was located in an ancient temple, somewhere within Braznychia. Sylvia was both a sage of Life, but she was also a sage of death and trickery, and Antonov's team knew it would be difficult, or even borderline impossible to locate such a powerful relic. It would also be a deadly endeavor, one that entailed suffering unlike anyone had seen before. Nevertheless, they began their search. They went from oblast to oblast, examining promising sites and asking locals for clues on it's whereabouts. As expected, no one had an idea where Sage Sylvia had kept her Elixir of Life. Days passed, which turned into months, which turned into years, and still, there was not even a single clue discovered that could lead to this secret Temple.

Their hope waned. Maybe those tales were just in fact a piece of fiction. Maybe we were just chasing nothing?
However, everything change when the team checked the final oblast on their list, the Atyrau Republic in the far northeast of Braznychia. There, they met an old man, certainly passed the one century mark, and told him about the tales of the Elixir, about the powerful Sage Sylvia, and the reason why they were looking for it.
The old man's eyes narrowed, not one of anger, but like recalling a distant memory. A memory that suddenly came back to him.

The Temporal Sage

"Sylvia...I havent heard of that name in years..."

"You know her?", the team asked.

"Yes. I am Yuri Yezhalnev, and believe it or not, Sylvia was born in this town. When I was a young man, I used to serve as an apprentice in the Kalia School of Magic. It's one of the most prestigious magic schools in the world, located right here in Braznychia. Over my years working there I slowly picked up various magical powers and spells from being around the classes as they were taught.", Yezhalnev pauses to recall further details, before continuing.
"I vividly remember mentoring Sylvia in magic when she was young. Just the basics, I taught her how to perform basic telekenisis and sorcery. All the stuff your average magic user should know. And she excelled at it. She was a fast learner, and quickly mastered the various spells I had taught her. But one day, things changed. I remember it clearly even after all these years - a cold snowy morning, when she was being chased by a wild boar, when she suddenly casted a spell I hadnt taught her before, nor have I ever seen before. It caused the boar to age by decades in an instant, until it was reduced to dust, annihilated with the power of the passage of time. That was the first time I had ever seen magic that powerful. It looked like a temporal spell, just like the spell the Great Sage used during the Great Reset. I instantly recognized the sheer power she held, one that was almost dangerous. And so I knew that I could teach her no longer. My meager knowledge in magic was an insult to her capability, and I knew that she was ready to take on the ultimate challenge for a youngling with as much potential as her - to take on the infamous Kalia Academy itself.

Kalia was certainly not your ordinary magic school. It was easily one of the most challenging, if not the most challenging magical educational institution in existence. Before I was offered the privilege to work there, I heard students were subjected through intense trials to test and hone their magical strength, with death being a real possibility for many learners. Those rumors turned out to be true. In my twenty-three years there, I had witnessed nearly sixty deaths in total.

Yezhalnev’s voice quivered as he went on, though whether from age or memory, it was hard to tell. The room around them had grown quiet, an atmosphere of tension washing over them. The silence was deafening, save for the crackling of a nearby stove and the rustling snowy wind outside.

"Sylvia...had not only survived and passed the trials. She thrived in them, mastering every discipline that they taught her. But her real passion laid in temporal magic, the very magic she had learned and honed herself back during the time when she was with me. She believed time was like a river, it always seemed to only move in one direction, a current taking us from the present to the future. But it is a river that can be altered, it's flow changed. She believed time could be controlled and manipulated by anyone strong enough to do so. And she did. She mastered the art of manipulating time, so that a person percieves time in different ways. And in doing so, she had the power to cast unimaginable horrors and spells almost on the level as the Great Mage herself."

Antonov's team was stunned into silence. The flickering light of the fireplace cast long shadows on the stone walls of Yezhalnev's home, as if even the house itself was holding its breath at the revelation.

"And where is she now?", Antonov asked, his face clearly nervous at the thought who they were up against.
Yezhalnev sighed. "I dont know exactly. Ever since she graduated and left Kalia Academy all those years ago, no one has heard a thing from her. Some say she went into the mountains to further hone her skills, while others say she was killed by the very thing she chose to master. But before she disappeared, she visited me one dark night in the midst of winter. She was a lot different compared to the young girl I raised all those years ago. She was grown up, and looked extremely youthful for her age. You could tell she had discovered something, something new, something powerful - powerful enough to profoundly alter her very being.

She didnt say much about what she discovered or did during her time at Kalia, but she told me she came back to my house to thank me for me for being her first teacher, for introducing her to the world of magic she now thrives in. She said something I’ll never forget — ‘Without you, I would have never seen the power of magic, and my potential to wield and bend the threads of time itself. You gave me the first spark, and I turned it into a wildfire. One that even all the water in all the oceans and seas cannot extinguish.’

She stayed here for around one or two days, before disappearing as suddenly as she showed up. I only woke to realize she was no longer there, but outside my window I saw a young child wrapped in a small blanket with a small note next to it, reading.

To the person who guided me.
I owe you nothing but my deepest gratitude. Without your help, my eyes would have never been opened to this new world that I now call my own. So thank you.
Along with this letter I have sent to you a small child. This child is my own, a young girl, and she holds my legacy. I ask of you to not teach them the power of magic just yet. Let this child live a normal life, to learn love before she learn power. But if she chooses to explore and discovers it on her own, do not stop her. When she does, I place upon you the duty to teach them not to fear time, but to learn to flow with it. For time is not our master, it is our instrument. And like an intstrument, some will learn to master it.
When she comes of age, tell her all about me, her mother. Or you could choose not to tell her about my secrets immediately. But eventually she will know. And if she chooses to follow in my footsteps, advise her to go to Kalia like I did. There she will discover and master the secrets as I had also done.
And once she is as powerful as I am, then she will find my temple on her own, and meet me there. Until then, this will be the last time I will ever see you. But I will never forget everything youve done for me.
May time ever be kind to you Yuri.

Sylvia.

The room fell silent again as Yuri finished reading the letter, his words lingering in the air. Outside, the sun had already set, leaving nothing but the crackling fireplace as the only source of light.

"And where is this child now?", asks Antonov, clearly wondering how deep this rabbit hole went. Yuri pauses for a moment, as if reminiscing his memories before continuing, an audible quiver in his voice.

"Her name is Raenara. I raised her like my own child, and I tried my best to keep the power of magic, and the secrets of her mother from her. But she soon discovered magic, and soon, she quickly learned the spell her own mother had learned when she was but a child. The one that allowed her to bend time, even if it was just slightly. It was then when I knew for certain that this was Sylvia's daughter. And just like her, she soon left this place when she was just twelve years old for Kalia around two years ago. She's probably still there to this day. If you truly desire to find her temple, to locate the Elixir of Life....she's your best bet."

The weight of Yezhalnev's words settled in the room, with Antonov's team exchanging uneasy glances with each other. "Do you think that seeking her out in Kalia is our best option?", one of them asks Yuri.
"I am most certain that it is the case. It is nigh impossible that people like you can locate her temple. Even I do not know where it is, despite knowing her for many years. You really have no choice."

Antonov's team nodded, although it was undeniable that many of them were terrified at the prospect of what they were about to face. No one knew how powerful her daughter Raenara already was, but given that she had already been at Kalia for three years, and learned the same temporal magic her mother had learned at a very young age, it was almost certain she possessed dangerous power - one that could easily end their lives, or worse.

One of Antonov's men, Dmitry remarked, "If she is Sylvia's daughter, then she could be very powerful."

Yuri gave a faint sigh, before leaning back in his chair. "You don't understand the nature of time magic, do you? It's not just about the ability to stop time for people, or make things older or younger. Temporal magic bends the fabric of reality. It warps everything it touches. With a single touch, Raenara could make you forget who you are, erase the moments you've lived, or make everyone in your life forget the fact that you ever existed. You see?, it's a force beyond our comprehension. If you dont approach this carefully...you could be annihiliated from the fabric of existence. Time is like a river, as Sylvia said - and as it's master, she can easily have it drown you in an instant."

The fire crackled, the only sound in the room as the gravity of their task settled on Antonov and his men, even the birds fell silent. Antonov met Yuri’s gaze once more. "Where is Kalia?" he asked. "I guess we are going there."

Yuri responded. "No one knows. It's always the first challenge for aspiring students to actually find the location of the academy. Many see it as the first trial."

"But didnt you say you used to serve there? Surely you must know where it is."

Yuri visibly hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting around the room.

"I guess if you arent aspiring to actually study there, I can give you a clue. It's a clue I learned from an employee of Kalia when I went out to seek it myself. Draw a line from the center of Haissaret northwards. Then another line roughly a degree north of the southern peninsula of Icktenland. Where the lines intersect, is the place you seek."

Antonov immediately pulled out a map of Sparkalia from his pocket, and using a marker, began to plot out the lines on the map. He started plotting it's longitude, drawing a line from the center of Haisaaret, northwards towards the easternmost part of Kethes, and onwards to the Arctic. Then he began to plot the latitude. The line passed from the southern peninsula of Icktenland, where Yuri had pointed out. It was south of almost everything, even southern nations like Nova Vinelandia and Redhorn.

Antonov continued to plot the line, until they intersected.

"Wait...that's."