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Xan, the Herald of Order (Aengul)

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Humanity will retain a devoute light,

The ability to maintain their faith in darkest times,

But what is faith, when your eyes are veiled in disbelief?

True faith is to see the light despite the darkness.


-=- The Origin, A Tale Foretold -=-


Sunbreak, an event in which the golden rays of sunlight pierces through the clouds exhausted from rain, or laden with water; the elegant, and beautiful array of sunlight illuminating the burdened earth, heavy and damaged from war and travel, the soil uprooted, trees felled, and the ghastly remains of women, children, and man lay at rest; Order, and Guardianship existed as a farce in this day and age as the fundamental hierarchy of Mortality was cast asunder in the Brothers plight to slay Iblees, farmland, animals, and the soil had been neglected or ruined.


In a time when cinders remained, war had came to its conclusion, and the blinding light of sunbreak could pierce the heavens and bathe the earth in its eternal warmth, the warmth, a pair of siblings longed for. The tale of the two siblings will forever remain unheard albeit it is in regards to a delightful duo with an unbreakable bond. Zyanna Athna, a lithe woman who stood tall and inspired strength and boldness in the meekest of mice, and Hilan Athna, a man strong of mind and physical power, the two who travelled a land outside of Aegis.


It was here that a tale was written albeit untold, a story written in aged ink with damaged feathers in a distant land unbeknownst to the Aegisians for it stood without worry of war nor significance, albeit was laden with burden and strife for a lone isle to maintain itself with a lack of need, is troublesome indeed, as the isle was plagued with dwindling sunlight and due to it, they lacked their medicine. They fell to illness and starvation, for the isle had been idly cursed as a result of some Daemonic aftermath, the unbridled fury of an explosion that damaged its surroundings eons past. Life was struggling to live; sunlight became a farce.


The isle had been dubbed the Isle of Sheerok that once produced a bountiful amount of crops, with a large forestry that provided a bountiful source of medicinal herbs which inhabited two quarters of the isle, with the hub of their mortality sat at the base of a lone mountain with the sheer cliffsides all around providing ample defence against raiders and the like. Albeit here, they praised one God, and one God only, an Aengul who demanded not faith but servitude, but faith they gave nevertheless as praise for his long-lasting desire to vanguard Mortality, and covet the fire Humanity has been given by their Maker.


Zyanna and Hilan often traversed the woodland together, although on this one particular eve, laden with worry wrought by their dying homeland, they sat atop a ledge beside the mountain with their heads hung low and their breath shallow, adorned in naught but leather and thin cloth with Hilan’s sword tucked neatly into its sheath and Zyanna’s bow wrapped around her back-- they looked to one another, and offered a gentle smile, lacking words for the brilliant view of the azure ocean before the duo; although this day would mark the day of Xan’s lay of foundation.


Heavy steps deriving from the pressured earth and stone below a looming grizzly bear came naught but four feet beside the duo, unbeknownst to the two until it was far too late, and Hilan was promptly knocked down to one side with the brown grizzly stood tall on its hind legs, producing an unbridled roar that shook the duo’s hearts. Hilan, injured, a wound struck deep to his right arm would struggle onto his feet with the bears beady ebon eyes locked onto Zyanna, the lithe, and agile woman readying herself for the bears charge, and so it came, with the animal breaking into a bull-charge straight for her to which she avoided it by naught but the strand of a singular hair as she leapt to one side, and the bear slammed fierce into the cliffside of the steep mountain, knocking itself hazy.


The duo decided to make break in their brief moment of safety, clutching one another’s hands as they, in their state of panic and distress decided to ascend the mountainside with the grizzly bear tracking behind the two. Shortly after, they managed to make it to another ledge, fear and desolation lingering in their soppy eyes in absolute terror and fright, although as Hilan toppled down to the ground due to his bloodied wound-- Zyanna stood tall above her brother, arms spread wide, and the bear lifted up, and onto its hind legs…


In a brief moment of silence, the bear, and woman, peered toward one another with their heads inclined and Zyanna’s digits curled in taut-- the bear was about to slaughter the duo, and it went for it, with a hefty swing of its paw it sought for Zyanna’s abdomen, it ultimately failed with an abrupt squelch as a lance forged from gold impaled the wretched beast straight through, the weapon itself, a tale of legends, resonating with raw power as the beast simply fell flat to one side, with Hilan’s arm wrapped around his eyes akin to a coward as he shuddered in fright.


The simple man draped in ivory extended an arm for the woman, and the duo crossed eyes, and in that brief moment of silence-- solace, emboldenment, and enlightenment ignited her very core, as if she knew who, and what He was, as their palms touched, he gripped her hard, and all she did was nod to the very simple gesture, engulfed in the mere sight of the Lord; shortly after, she accepted his offer, the duo did, in fact, two out of four wings that mounted his shoulder-blades split into a haze of ivory fog, seeping deep into the cores of the two siblings; She became His Cleric, and Hilan, His Vindicator.  


-=- The Origin, Sunbreak -=-


With Xan’s forbidden intervention in the mortal realm it brought brief strife between his war-brother, Tahariae, Lord of Purity, and himself, the Lord of Sunlight forbade his brothers advice so he may stand stalwart to the Isle of Sheerok, and deliver unto they, what they so pleaded the Lord of Sunlight for, and with a mere lift of his arms the clouds laden with rain burst with tears of moisture greeting the cracked and dying earth, igniting life into the hearts of the Isles’ inhabitants.


As his arms split, so did the heavens, with the earth veiled in water, the phenomenon of sunbreak transpired, as Xan stood mighty atop the lone mountain-- golden bursts of sunlight cracked through the heavens to greet the glistening veil below with the inhabitants of Sheerok crying in confusion albeit primarily hope, joy, and they praised their God. With their Prophet peering upward to the lone mountain to view the shadowed figure, head lifted high, and arms spread wide as the entirety of his visage faded akin to dust in the wind. The elderly man tumbled to his knees with his elongated digits clasped to his arid palms, steadily breathing before he broke, and sobbed, visibly shaking in absolute love for their merciful Lord, Xan :: Naught but three words converged to lay across his mind alike a blanket across a bed, the tone was soft and comfortable, it brought peace and solace to the elderly man as he sobbed.






They knew his name, they knew his ideals, and herein would mark the day of Sunbreak a yearly event in which the Isle of Sheerok would praise the merciful Lord of Sunlight; Zyanna, and Hilan’s father, Nazh’ghal became known as the first prophet of Xan, he who decreed the demand of Order and Guardianship amidst the Isle, and they lived in absolute bliss and solace under the guidance of the wayward Aengul.


Zyanna, however, had fallen in love with their Lord of Sunlight, and as had Xan with the woman, during his brief intervention in the mortal realm he did what no God should do, and rested in private with the woman until he had garnered enough strength to return to his realm with the aid of his brother; unbeknownst to her brethren she bore the Lord of Sunlight’s child, and at the behest of their Prophet, the two siblings departed from the Isle-- the only two to adorn his strength, draped in starlight and wielding raw power akin to Xan’s eldritch magic, and that is, what they did.


-=- The Origin, The Tale Foretold In Legend and Death -=-


Zyanna and Hilan did as they were told, at the behest of their Prophet who deemed the duo worthy of spreading the Lord of Sunlight’s cause and word, from Isle to Isle they traversed, Zyanna birthing a daughter who was stowed away under the guidance of Xan from the watchful eyes of Aeriel to the kiln of the First Flame where she would practice her studies under the personal teachings of the Lord of Sunlight, her Father.


Zyanna Athna, shortly after dubbed the Prophet of Xan after the death of her father, and Hilan her commander as the duo forged an Order of men and women who would stand stalwart against the wretched, and blighted foes of Aegis, or the realm, that, which disturbs the balance of Mortality and Humanity earned the ire of the Lord of Sunlight and thusly so, the Tribe of Allayed Fear, who had convened an enmass of women and children so they may don the name of Xan and wield his starlight to enact his ideal of Order and preserve Guardianship amidst Mortality wherever they may be. They had earned a righteous name for themselves albeit detoured from from their Tribes name, Man, Elf, Orc, and Dwarf dubbed the ever growing group the Order of the Golden Lance for the weapon Hilan had forged, and wielded, at the behest of his Prophet.


Eventually, as the enmass of Vindicators and Clerics traversed the Isles they collected folk from all races, none were barred entry unless they never met the requirements Xan demanded; their ideology was rapidly increasing as they became renown for their desire to vanguard Mortality, and so, each nation welcomed the Order or their patrols. The Isle of Sheerok became the hometown, and primary base for the Paladins of yonder.


Although time had come for Zyanna’s departure, her love for Xan was unbridled and she couldn’t handle the loss of her Lord any longer, and so she sought him out. Her departure from the army crippled it so until Hilan was persuaded to take charge, and that he did, the cowardly whelp from whom Zyanna stood stalwart beside many years ago had grown into a man of grand stature and raw power, although he lacked the entitlement to speak the word of Xan, he did indeed follow the tenets of the Lord strictly, as did his brethren, and the crippled army became strong once more with naught but the loss of a hundred who went with Zyanna.


Five years later Hilan had decided to officialise the Tribesmen as a guild of Xan, they took on the title The Order of the Golden Lance, and he led them into righteous combat and glory.


-=- The Tale of Zyanna Athna, Lover of The Lord of Sunlight -=-


Zyanna, one eve in her troubled nights received a calling from her Aengul, a calling of solace, peace, and destiny, for she were not alone in her desire to be with the Lord of Sunlight for he had sent his calling to aid her in her endeavour. Shortly after she took her departure from Aegis to traverse the southern borders of the world, her, and her band of Vindicators’ labour proved fruitful as they arrived at a miniscule island with an odd mountain range covering the rim, piercing upwards into the skies with a small entrance to the east-side of the isle.


The isle was perfect for their basic requirements, and two years later Zyanna and the small band had erected a grand tower with the aid of their starlight magic; the elegant tower had been preserved by a rich charm cast by Zyanna to vanguard it from the elements of time and weather with three crystals buried deep into the earth to fuel the charm over the elongated tower that reached half the length of the skyward mountains. The intricately designed tower wasn’t the first of their designs as they shortly produced a library beneath the isle, brimming with enlightenment on all sorts, albeit pertained a particular book pertaining knowledge on the Sanctity of Guardianship otherwise known as the Guardian's Grimoire.


And finally, the Gate of Equilibrium was constructed at the behest of their Prophet in order to finalise their pilgrimage, requiring three keystones blessed by Xan during his stay in the mortal realm eons past, with two found, Zyanna found the third, but upon the night that she were to implant the final stone into the Gate of Equilibrium, the isle had been ambushed by an unknown figure.


The heavens were laden with rain and storm, atop her the tower Zyanna sat, peering in awe to the final keystone clasped between her hands, a mere, elongated rod of oak as her digits drummed along the wood, and unbeknownst to she, the prying eyes of Gudour, The Night Terror glared down upon the woman from the ebon clouds.


As dawn came, the clouds split, Zyanna was found by three remaining members of the folk that had accompanied her on the journey there, the library ravaged and ruined, there, she sat, an ebon semi-transparent sphere encompassing the throne with the image of a blade jutted through her chest-- the illusionary guise of a steel blade that’d replaced the Blade of Horen that originally pierced her chest straight through; with tear stained cheeks and desolate eyes, head lulled upwards towards the heavens, some may swear the roar of a lion roared amidst the heavens upon the death of Zyanna Athna.


Unfortunately, Lady Zyanna Athna perished at the hands of Gudour, after Iblees had corrupted him during the plight against mankind vs. The Betrayer. This marked the birth of the Wyrmstalkers, and how the Order of the Golden Lance became renown dragon slayers.


-=- The Tale of Hilan Athna, Founder of the Lance -=-


Once renown for being the Artificer of the Tribe and then the Order of the Golden Lance Hilan was able to forge relics and  artifacts scaling in raw power. Their usage was by far, fundamentally awesome, he, who wielded a lance forged from gold and thoroughly empowered with raw energy, enabling it the ability to spew bolts of sapphire, ivory, and gold. During the time of the Order of the Golden Lances’ first establishment the Lance was unlike the one renown as the Aengulic weapon this day, and the Order was in its prime during his rule over the army.


Although, with Zyanna’s departure Hilan was forced to take lead of the Order, as he had developed with the guidance, and gift of Xan, empowering his body, will, and mind, Hilan lead the Order into a state of glorified power that lasted for twenty five years, throughout this time the death of Zyanna came to be. Only he, and Zyanna were aware of the First Born’s whereabouts, although it was vastly kept a secret, she had since then departed from the Kiln so she may accompany Hilan and learn beside him in order to take hold of the Order after his departure.


Hilan, unlike his sister, preferred combat and glory over peace and talk, having vanquished many-a-foes in his prime. Although, upon one fateful night Hilan Athna received news of his sister's death in a vision of Zyanna sat atop a throne, her corpse thoroughly defiled, and blighted, followed by an enraged lion brawling a fleet of dragonkin. This could only be perceived as a warning, or, His decree. Hilan took it literally, and in a fit of rage and anger, alongside his forefather, Hilan declared war on all dragonkin alike.


With this, came the befitting title of Wrymstalker in which the user was provided with the ability to manifest the Mists into a suit of armour akin to leather albeit had an aversion to dragonfire and blight; in their clutches they wielded bows befitting their stature, able to produce arrows forged from starlight upon the bow being drawn back, and the arrow of their choice may explode upon impact, or sheer straight through scales and flesh with considerable ease.


During this brief time, Xan cast his ever watchful gaze over the heavens-- observing the remainder of the dragonkin to view their devastating power, and what could happen, if they were blighted; Gudour, and the Archdrakaar. In both a state of panic, anger, and frenzy, he did indeed, demand their death.


This was Xan’s decree. To vanquish the dragonkin, as they did his brood.

The wayward Aengul vs. The Sleeping Dragon, a brawl between the duo in which Xan had the upper-hand with Dragur’s slumber; the disorderly dragonkin would feel the wrath of the Lord of Sunlight.


Xan would go on to right Dragur’s wrong.


The dragonkin dwindled in number with the Dragaar failing in their duties to preserve as the Order advanced on them, their cousins, and their brethren, they fled in absolute terror and fright. The Lord of Sunlight’s perilous onslaught resulted in the extinction of many dragon-like subraces with the nigh extinction of Dragaar, and dragonkin alike.


The Order of the Golden Lance’s active crusade came to an eventual closure, with Hilan elderly and frail just like his father once was, afflicted with the curse of Mortality and upon his deathbed he lay his eyes upon the daughter of Zyanna, and offered naught but the sweetest of smiles from his once stoic state-- later that eve, Hilan proceeded to pass from this realm to the next.


-=- With Death, Comes Life -=-  


The firstborn child of Xan was tasked with the upkeep of the Order, in her time of lead she had warped the Order into Xan’s literal ideal; to preserve Order, is to ensure peace, and to ensure peace, all that is evil, must be vanquished.


During her time she was renown for being a tyrant, in her line of duty she did indeed vanquish many-a-foes, and imprisoned demonspawn and blightspawn alike; a fleet of Drakaar, three, to four in number encompassed the Isle of Sheerok with a flurry of dragon fire which scorched the earth ebon, the enmass of blighted beasts encompassed the isle, disallowing their ability to flee, and then descended the Drakaar, one by one as they backed the army to one corner of the isle. Promptly, the daughter of Xan, in her time of need found The Guardian’s Grimoire manifesting in her palms-- and without a second thought, she iterated its runic contents with a tone as soft as silk albeit as strong as steel.


Albeit here, had been inscribed to enact a different duty, not to vanquish the entourage of beasts, but to.. Simply vanish. The Lord of Sunlight bestowed the inhabitants of the Isle of Sheerok one last gift, the gift of life.


So let it be written; so let it be done.


Nought could describe the unfathomable phenomenon that transpired on the Isle of Sheerok with little but a crater to foretell the story of what might’ve happened, this ebon eve; the thunderous clouds departed.


As the youthful woman concluded her speech, the inhabitants, or whatever remained of the Order found themselves elsewhere, in the Fringe, with lands to conquer; the tyranny of Xan’s child shall go unforetold, and instead, it will be heard that he, himself sanctioned the death of the draconic beasts on both sides of the same coin.


A tyrant, not among men, but among darkspawn and draconic beasts alike-- although her name did not make history, for the dawn of Man was still young and there was much to be had, and much history to  make. Her existence was carved out of history by the unrelenting forces of time. She did, however, go on to having a family of her own.


-=- What Happened Next -=-


Xan’s intervention with mortality continued onward as the dawn of Setherien came to be, the resurrection of Hilan Athna was decided, the next decade or so would mean the rise of the Order of the Golden Lance which carved its name into history forever; dubbed after Hilan’s weapon indeed, forged at the hands of the Order’s dwedmar and weaved with pure starlight.


The Golden Lance, a weapon so mighty it was uttered amidst the Heavens to bear the weight of Xan’s lifeforce; brimming with raw power and the capability of wounding even The Betrayer himself, the unbridled fury of the Lord of Sunlight manifested into a singular weapon-- it left him weak, heaving for air, hence why he could not aid his brood during their plight.


Hilan Athna’s duty was a failure as he bestowed the Golden Lance to the Champions of Yonder, the strongest of the divine army, ten men draped in starlight, and an Athna partook in their ranks-- Azazel Athna who wielded the unbridled fury of the Golden Lance; the ten men marched for the dreadlands, and so it was a battle they fought, but in the end, they lost the war.


Eight champions were warped, the starlight they wielded melded to their frames as Setherien’s breath of ice and fire drew the Vindicators insane, destroying their will, mind, and strength, as they became the Harbingers of Setherien-- bound to him, as they were once Xan. One escaped, never to be found, and the other promptly perished, unable to withstand the unbridled force of Setherien.


The Golden Lance had been snapped in three, locking Xan’s power in the mortal realm in the form of three, elongated shards. Hilan Athna enlightened the trio of siblings with all he knew before he accepted the fate of his death once more, the curse of Humanity could never be avoided.


Later that era, Mortality found themselves on the Lances’ land and begged for their aid, aid they did indeed grant, Herun Athna founded the Order of the Golden Lance once more, discovering the three shards and impaling Setherien right through albeit at the cost of his sister who erected an emerald shield to vanguard the descendants from Setherien’s breath of blight.


Everything has a  price, and with the death of Setherien it beckoned the death of Xan.

More in-depth tale of Xan and the Order's plight.


-=- Xan’s Revival; Order Once More -=-

- Credits to the Return of Order: Kaleheart -

The Return of Order

As golden light shot through the aether and collided with incomprehensible black, not only darkness was torn asunder. Though Setherien may have fallen to ash, so too did the one who sacrificed all to banish his blight.


In a crumbling Realm of Order the being known as Xan was left crippled and weak. Clinging to life by only the threads of power that weave his very existence, the Aengul was left much like a mortal lost within his own realm. To refer to Xan or his kind as people is inaccurate, they are closer to… structures, of incomprehensible complexity. Oceans of power and life. They are both infinitely more mortal, and infinitely more immortal than the descendants of Man and Woman. They cannot be compared, yet there is no alternative. At this time, however, Xan felt what it was to near the existence of those whom he had sacrificed so much to save. Weak, frail, fading. Mortality had its suffocating embrace upon Xan’s existence.


Were he to breath, it would be laboured. Were he to stand, he would fall. Were he to have a body to rend, it would be torn asunder. For his great fortune however… None of these things were the plight of his kind. Instead, the great ocean of power and life that structured this being began to wither and evaporate.


Through the use of his immense power against the Wyrm Setherien, Xan had drained all that he was. He was once a roiling ocean of infinite depth, but he was now left as little more than a stagnant pond evaporating beneath a furious sun. It was not death that gripped his being, it was annihilation. He was ending as Setherien had; not to this world or the next, not to the void…  Rather, back to the mind of the Creator himself as but a mere memory. An inkling of existence where none lingered.


As he continued to fade, Xan allowed himself to gaze upon the four mortal races. They celebrated their victory, something akin to satisfaction coming to tinge the immortal’s dying thoughts. In wisps of muddled thought Xan gave thanks to his followers, to his brother Tahariae, and to all those who lost their lives; now residing in the soulstream. A dying breath, or as close to one as he may come.


The solace of his fading existence was interrupted, however, by a presence more familiar than time itself. More familiar and more alien than any sensation, knowledge, or being. His Brother gazed upon him with eyes that shone gold and pure. Understanding was in both of their gazes as Xan felt his existence steady.


Tahariae’s affection would not allow his kin to wither into nothingness. The Brother that he has helped so valiantly, stood beside in uncountable years of turmoil and prosperity alike. He knew that no world could exist without Order, nor without a Guardian. So with an exhalation of power from Tahariae, a metaphorical cloud of power formed. The searing sun was blocked out, ceasing the evaporation of the stagnant waters that were Xan.


Xan felt the power of his brother Tahariae grace his decrepit form. Concern tinged the consciousness of Tahariae as he looked upon his fallen kin. One structure watching the other crumble. As the cloud far above Xan’s waters grew, its great expanse writhed and grew dark, a stormcloud breaking overhead and pouring down power upon Xan. Ripples formed upon the surface of Xan’s existence, clearing away the stagnant mold that had begun to form. Slowly these ripples collided, forming more and more as they spread across the water.


As power surged through his form, Xan willed himself to rise. Weakened beyond the point of mortality, the being gave mute thanks to his brother. With the crippled will he had regained, Xan pulled from his mind a sliver of existence, letting it fill him with further strength as the being begun to slowly reform. Wind danced along the waters of the pond, creating ripples of it’s own. No need for outside influence now as Tahariae’s power left Xan; the downpour dripping to a halt and the cloud cleared away by the winds of life.


Thus was how Xan would regain his power. Slowly, agonizingly, but surely. Saved from the fate of Setherien through the will of his Brother, the immortal’s waters would gradually build themselves back up into the ocean they once were. Perhaps even deeper, even more alive than they had been in times past.

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excellent lore!!

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