"In the end, it wasn't destruction that ended the beasts…
It was silence."
The Fall of the beasts
The last battle had been fought.
It was not a victory. It was not a surrender. It was simply an ending.
The elemental Guardians—eight mighty Beasts born of the White and Black Dragons—had poured out every drop of their life force in the war that could never be won.
And at last… they fell.
Not in shame.
But in exhaustion.
Their titanic bodies floated into the void, scattering like echoes of a divine heartbeat lost in space.
But though their strength had faded, their essence endured.
Their remains began to pulse with a light not of death… but of transformation.
The Crystals of Power
Each Beast, upon the moment of its fall, was wrapped in a cocoon of its own elemental force.
Their mighty bodies shrank, coalesced, and crystallized—condensing into perfect gems, infused with their elemental spirit.
• The Controller of Water, Kaemora the Deep Whale, became a brilliant azure crystal, deep and calm as an ocean trench.
• The Guardian of Fire, Volkara the Flame Parrot, turned into a deep crimson shard, flickering with heat and fury.
• The Guardian of Nature, Sylgroth the Horned Rhino, was sealed within a verdant green gem, alive with twisting vines.
• The Bringer of Light, Fenlar the Radiant Wolf, transformed into a white-gold sphere, shining like a trapped sun.
• The Warden of Shadow, Nykara the Black Panther, condensed into a black crystal, laced with spectral veins.
• The Guardian of Earth, Gronthak the Stone Elephant, solidified into a bronze-hued boulder, unmoving and grounded.
• The Controller of Air, Aeralis the Sky Peacock, was captured in a silver-white prism, light dancing in its core.
• The Storm-Binder, Zephyros the Lightning Falcon, flashed into a jagged electric-blue gem, humming with static.
These crystals, heavy with ancient power, drifted in the silence of space.
Until they were drawn…
To a world that still turned beneath forgotten stars.
IT'S Not The Descent
The night was quiet.
The planet below was lifeless—no voices, no war. Only wind and waiting.
And then, like a falling prophecy, the eight crystals tore through the sky.
Silent meteors.
Each landed in a separate part of the planet's surface—buried themselves deep into forest, mountain, desert, ocean.
But they did not vanish.
They pulsed.
They waited.
The Awakening
As dawn broke, golden rays of sunlight spilled over the horizon.
One by one, the sun's light struck the hidden crystals.
And with each beam came resonance.
The crystals refracted the light, bending it, amplifying it—until all eight rays met at one single point in the sky.
For a moment, the air stilled.
Then—
BOOOOM.
A shockwave of sound and force tore through the sky.
Half the crystals shattered—not in destruction, but into nano-scale essence.
Particles no larger than a breath of wind, yet each carrying the full of power, elemental and remain life force of the Beasts from which they came.
They followed the path of sunlight downward.
Toward one place.
Toward one purpose.
The Birth of leagend
The beams of light collided.
A pulse of energy flared—so intense, the earth shook beneath it.
And from that light, something took form.
A creature emerged. Not of bone or blood, but of will and element.
A lion-like Beast, majestic and immortal, stepped into the world.
Its body was golden-white, smooth and flawless.
Its mane shimmered with eight shifting colors—each strand alive with an element:
• Red fire that danced and licked the air.
• Blue water flowing in soft waves.
• Silver wind curling like breath.
• Green vines twisting among the strands.
• Gold light bursting like sparks.
• Black shadows sliding between beams.
• Bronze flakes of stone and grit.
• Teal arcs of flickering lightning.
Its eyes opened—one bright as a rising sun, the other dark as a moonless night.
It did not speak.
It did not remember.
But in its heart burned every power that had ever warred.
The creature took a breath—and the wind shifted.
It took a step—and the trees leaned in its direction.
It was the only one.
The Balance-Born.
The Elemental Crowned.
The Beast for the Throne.
A World Without War
Time passed.
The lion roamed the land quietly, peacefully.
Wherever it walked, the elements recognized it.
Rain listened. Flames danced in its presence. Vines uncurled from the soil. Stones warmed beneath its paws.
It healed a world that had never been broken.
But deep inside… it began to feel something.
A tremble in the sky. A pressure in its chest. A memory not its own.
A shadow… returning.
The Sky Cracks
One day, the wind froze mid-breath.
The Beast looked up—and saw the air twist.
Something was coming.
A storm.
A force.
Then, it came.
A blast—raw and ancient—tore through the sky.
The lion's mane flared in response.
Its instincts ignited.
It summoned air and light and barked a shield into existence.
KRAAAAK!
The force struck it like a god's hand.
Rocks shattered. Trees tore loose. The air howled.
But it stood firm.
And as it looked around—at the broken valley, the fractured earth—it thought:
"If more come like this…
This world will fall.
My home will die."
It roared—and took flight.
The Return
Far ahead, across the burning sky, two shadows emerged.
Massive.
Familiar.
The White Dragon. The Black Dragon.
Still alive.
Still fighting.
Still believing the throne was theirs.
But the Beast doesn't knew that—
The throne was not made for them.
It was made…
For it.
To be continued...