In the first dawn of the Sharan, there was no freedom; there was just slavery and the desire to be free. The annals tell of a time when the tyrant, known as Kalma, ruled over the Sharan with no regard for their lives or for their freedoms.

Before the city that was N’Sharan, the enslaved people worked the bountiful lands that were all around the world; they lived in great cities, towns, and villages, yet in the end, they were never free.

An empire that lasted a thousand years, all under the omnipotent tyrant Kalma, came to an end when the great Kalma demanded his people to perform a sacrifice—a hundred thousand women, a hundred thousand men, and a hundred thousand children—beheaded to construct a temple for his magnificence.

The people rose and brought about a war that led to the deaths of more than those demanded. First, they fought against the armies of Kalma, who had no interest in the futile actions of the Sharan; only when his armies were defeated did he fight against those who had risen in revolt.

The great magics that he used to slaughter his enemies are now called the Great Calamities. With each spell he let loose, thousands died, and their blood fed his desire for more. For the Sharan, there seemed to be no way out; no possibility to defeat the one who ruled the world.

So they gathered all of those who still remained and pooled their magics into the chosen few, the leaders of their revolt; with this, they created nine powerful magi, who pooled their forces together and destroyed Kalma; they scarred not only his mortal body but his soul as well. They ripped apart the world that they lived in, thus ending the Empire of the Dragon.

With those who remained, the Nine Magi vowed that they would carry them all to a promised land, where there’d be no more war, where there’d be no more slavery, and where they’d all be free.

With the powers that they were granted, they formed a powerful spell, gathered all of the Sharan that still remained, and summoned a portal to another world. There they began the construction of their utopia, a paradise for those who had suffered for thousands of years.

N’Sharan, the City of Angels.

In the City of Angels, there are no slaves; in the City of Angels, there is no freedom.

The Nine Great Magi took control of the city and molded it into one that would never leave their control; each of them chose something to rule over, and thus the nine domains were created.

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The Domain of Lies and Truths; the Domain of Order and Entropy; the Domain of Light and Dark; the Domain of Judgement; the Domain of Love and Hatred; the Domain of Joy and Suffering; the Domain of Life and Death; and the Domain of War and Peace, and finally, the Domain of Time.

In N’Sharan, in the city of our creation, there is only deceit and fraud. In N’Sharan, the city of our dreams, order is that which suits the needs of the powerful. In N’Sharan, darkness rules over the city, and no light can vanquish it. In N’Sharan, the city that we love, hatred rules the hearts of those who accept no other vision than their own. In N’Sharan, joy can only be born from the suffering of others. In N’Sharan, the city where we all lived, where we thought that only death could free us, life was good only for the select few. In N’Sharan, a city birthed by war, the hope of peace could only be freed the same way it was created. And it was known from the beginning of its rise and fall, that the city would not have a future, for the Sharan would not have one either.

In N’Sharan, there are no slaves; in N'Sharan, there is no freedom.

N’Sharan, the city of our regrets…

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Fragile, so fragile is an ideal, one that so many shared, one for which so many gave their lives to. Fragile were the lives that inhabit the city, so fragile, this city of marble, built to be a reflection of the people that inhabit it.

Fragile is the life that was given to it, and death is the only future foreseen for it, no matter how many possibilities there are or were; the war would come, the war would come and end it all; it would force itself to the peaceful lives of many, it would become the only reality for all of those innocent souls that never wanted anything like it, they too would be forced to give for the city, and they would have to give it all. It was demanded, it was necessary…

But to blame this collection of objects, these buildings, and the ideals that they were built upon, and to not blame those who brought its ruin, would not be right.

Death is for all. It is for the people of this city; it is for the corrupt, it is for the innocent; it is for all that lives within it and outside; death is what rules over all; it is the end of all life; it is the end of all.

Even those who claim to transcend death still are slaves to it; they too have to become one with it; they too have to enter eternity, to enter death, to submerge beneath the waves that come crashing in, from all sides, they will swallow even those that wish to live forever. Death will claim all, for nothing is to last.

Death rules all, as it did rule those that were before the time of N’Sharan when Kalma ruled the Sharan.

These burning ideas, these truths as they claim themselves to be, they enter this mind, they become one with it. These false memories of the world as it was, the people who inhabited that world, their dreams and their wishes, their fears, and their tribulations.

Submerged in the great darkness—this unknown substance—cold ruled, and he shivered with no hope of warmth. A gnawing pain, that of a migraine, constantly hit his temples, his head, his eyes, and all of his senses.

All that was to be known about the city of N’Sharan.

Agony—the agony of those who had lived there. Torment—the torment of those who succumbed to the corruption of it all. Suffering—the suffering of those who perished at the end of its cycle; at the end of N’Sharan.

The city that was laid in ash…

Enter the Domain of Lies and Truths... Enter, N’Sharan…