The history of the realm. The origin of the bond. What was lost, what was corrupted, and what only you can restore.
The realm of Eldion exists at the intersection of all dimensions. It is not quite part of any world, but it touches all of them. It is the fabric between realities, held together by an ancient living force called The Weave.
Where The Weave is strong, dimensions are stable, boundaries hold firm, and life flourishes across every world it connects. Where it weakens, rifts open. Violent tears in reality that bleed worlds into one another with catastrophic consequences.
The Weave is not a place. It is not a thing. It is alive. And for millennia beyond counting, it had a guardian.
Eldion are ancient beings born from pure elemental energy. They are the raw building blocks of every dimension that has ever existed. Fire, Water, Grass, Electric, Light, Dark. These are not merely types. They are the six fundamental forces that compose all reality across every known world.
A dimension can die from entropy, disaster, or catastrophe. When it does, its elemental energy does not disappear. It condenses. It crystallises. It becomes a Summoning Stone.
Inside every stone is a living Eldion, dormant and preserved across potentially thousands of years, waiting for the one thing that can free them: a Summoner. The bond formed in that moment of release is permanent. The Eldion remembers who freed them. Always.
An Eldion without a Summoner is a being without an anchor. Lost between dimensions, slowly fading. A Summoner without an Eldion is a person with an ability and no purpose. Together, they are something the realm has never been fully able to explain. Only to revere.
At the apex of all Eldion stands Novus. A Mythic being unlike any other. Novus was not born from the death of a dimension. Novus was born from The Weave itself, at the moment of creation, tasked with a single purpose: to keep the balance between all dimensions in check.
Novus belongs to no element. It exists beyond the six forces, drawing from all of them and none of them simultaneously. For ages beyond memory, Novus maintained the equilibrium. Sensing rifts before they could open. Sealing fractures before they could grow. Preserving the boundaries that kept each dimension from bleeding into the next.
No Summoner had ever bonded with Novus. The connection would have been too powerful for any ordinary Summoner to survive.
Until the Veilborn found a way to try.
The Veilborn are an ancient secret organisation. The most powerful Summoners the realm has ever produced. On the surface, they were once protectors. Scholars. Historians of the dimensional arts.
Beneath that, they became something else entirely.
The Veilborn believe the dimensions should not be separate. They believe that whoever controls the rifts controls all of reality. Every world. Every timeline. Every version of existence that has ever been or ever will be. They have spent generations harvesting Eldion not to bond with them but to extract their elemental energy as fuel for dimensional experiments.
To the Veilborn, Eldion are not living beings. They are batteries.
Their leader is known only as The Architect. He spent decades searching for a way to corrupt Novus. Not to bond with the guardian. To weaponise it. To turn the one being capable of sealing rifts into the one being capable of opening them permanently.
They succeeded. And the realm has been fracturing ever since.
No one knows exactly how The Architect did it. What is known is the result.
The moment Novus became corrupted, the balance shattered. Rifts tore open across the realm. Massive, violent, bleeding wounds in the fabric of reality. Dimensions began to merge. Creatures from other worlds spilled through. The Weave began to unravel.
Summoners across the realm felt it simultaneously. A deep wrongness, like a sound just below hearing that suddenly stopped. The silence where Novus used to be.
The corrupted guardian now drifts between dimensions, growing more unstable with every passing day. Still aware. Still trying to maintain balance from inside the corruption, and failing. In the moments between rift events, those sensitive enough can feel Novus reaching through the fractures. Not attacking. Warning.
It is the most tragic figure in the story of the realm. And it is what everything comes down to.
You are not from this world.
You came through a rift. One of the thousands that Novus's corruption tore open. You do not know which dimension you came from. You do not know if it still exists. The rift that brought you here sealed behind you the moment you crossed, and you arrived in the realm with nothing.
Nothing, except an inexplicable ability to hear something humming inside a small, smooth stone lying in the dirt at your feet.
You picked it up. Something answered. The Eldion that emerged looked at you the way Eldion only look at a Summoner. The way that means a bond has formed that cannot be undone. You did not choose to become a Summoner. The realm chose you.
The oldest Summoners you will meet have a theory about why. The Weave, in its dying state, reached through the fractures it had created. It searched every dimension for someone uncorrupted. Someone the Veilborn would not see coming. Someone with nothing to lose and no allegiance to any existing order.
An outsider. You.
What you do with that is the only question that matters now.