The neverending desert had been home to her family for ages, since even before the first scholars began recording events for future generations.  But when the first scholars did begin keeping official records, it was at the behest of her ancient ancestor, the great King Raethorn - ruler of the desert lands, finder of the great oasis, the 32nd King of the sacred bloodline and keeper of the Royal relic, the Fire Ruby.

Some 700 years later King Raethorn’s bloodline would still be seated upon the throne, now with the noble 42nd King of the sacred bloodline - King Adara - leading the land through an age of prosperity.  King Adara was a wise man, and a benevolent leader.  He loved his kingdom as he loved his own family - completely, and with total devotion.   But things are not always easy for a King, especially when your lands are lush and filled with natural resources that others envy, and would take for their own.

Such was the case for King Adara, whose northern border guards were often dealing with minor incursions and repelling attacks from their neighbours to the North, those who dwelt in and beyond the cold mountain ranges that form a natural border at the upper edge of what is commonly known as the Southern Lands.

But no matter how wise or kind a King may be, no one can lead an entire kingdom all on their own.  Such was the case for King Adara, who depended on his trusted advisors to guide him in handling the more mundane day to day tasks such as when to provide aid for farmers whose crop yields were too low, or determining which foreign nations to encourage trade with.     

One day King Adara agreed to hear an unusual request from one of his nation’s mightiest Champions.   The Champion had come to Adarian Castle - named in honour of the rightful King at the time - and asked King Adara for permission to venture into the royal vault to examine something that they claimed would help them greatly increase their beckoning abilities while in battle.  All they would need is access to a very special and ancient royal heirloom that lay deep within the vault - the Fire Ruby.  

Normally a request of this type would be denied immediately without a moment’s thought, as access into the Royal vault is permitted only for the King himself. However, this request was coming from his land’s greatest Champion, a man who had easily won countless battles under the King’s banner that otherwise could have cost many of his loyal men their lives, and as such the King held this Champion in the highest regard.

King Adara decided that he would consider the request, and informed his Champion that he would consult the ancient scrolls to learn more about the Fire Ruby before making his decision.   This would be the King’s greatest mistake, as the last thing his mighty Champion wanted was for the King to learn more of the true nature of the Fire Ruby. 

What King Adara could never have known is that this particular Champion had journeyed into his land many years ago under the cover of night, with a singular purpose - he would build a reputation as the land’s greatest fighter and Champion, and gain the attention of the King.   He had proven his worth through years of loyal service to King Adara, leading his troops to victory after victory.   The years of service were a small price to pay for someone who had existed in secret for ages - as this particular Champion was no ordinary man.  No, his flesh and bone were more illusion than meat, and lurking deep inside him was someone … something far more dangerous than anyone could have ever imagined.  

And so, when King Adara told the Champion that he would look into the ancient history of the Fire Ruby in order to consider the request, the King had no idea that those very words would carry with them a death sentence for himself and all of those who shared his bloodline.  For that very night, the Champion would enact a plan that would lead to the Castle being secretly infiltrated by a small group of soldiers wearing uniforms of the King’s Guard, who were anything but.    These soldiers moved with an unearthly silence, and killed everyone they met with devilish enjoyment.   The only clue that could possibly have betrayed their true identities would have been the faint odour of sulphur that filled the air as they approached.  But unfortunately on this night, there was no one awake in the castle who would have any idea what this terrifying clue was hinting at, and all of those who were asleep inside the castle’s walls would never wake again.

By morning the Castle had become a morgue, as bodies lay everywhere.   The lucky ones had died quickly, while the more unfortunate souls would suffer slower, methodical methods of meeting their end.

Death was in the air, and people from the villages nearest the Castle began fleeing as fast as they could.  Only a handful of soldiers from the Castle had escaped, choosing to abandon their posts and run for their lives at the first sight of their comrades being slaughtered by strangers wearing the King’s Guard uniforms.   We should not judge the cowardly too harshly though, as their cowardice likely was the only reason that the nearest villages were already empty by the time dark smoke began billowing into the air above them in the mid-morning sky.  By nightfall all villages within a day’s march of Adarian Castle had been burned completely to the ground.  

Soldiers who marched toward Adarian Castle to investigate what had become of their King would never be seen again, and soon that entire region was deemed too dangerous to enter by all who knew better. 

The cities and villages across King Adara’s land began to close their borders out of fear, and over time the surviving communities began to consider themselves as independent state nations that would govern themselves and be wary of strangers passing by.   The lands would fall into Chaos, and slowly but surely the lush countryside began to dry and recede into rocky outcroppings scattered across what would slowly come to be referred to as the ‘neverending desert’ during the generations to come.

As the years became centuries, the clan folk of the neverending desert began to forget that their clans were once part of one great nation.   The memories of Adarian Castle and the royal bloodline slowly became legend, then myth, and finally they faded from memory for all but the most dedicated of scholars.

People still avoid the ruins of Adarian Castle, even if they no longer remember why the great building that once stood there was so important.   Now, people mainly avoid it due to so many explorers of that region tending to go missing and never being seen or heard of again.   For the people of the neverending desert, it remains a mystery lost to time … but not for you, dear reader.

- The Archivist