They say the world was not always as we know it.
The mountains once stood taller than time,
and the sky—
a perfect, endless blue—
never lost its color.
Until the day the world trembled.
It all began atop those mountains—
now nothing but ruins.
There, above the clouds,
appeared a great bird—
a creature unlike anything humanity had ever seen.
Its wings stretched across the horizon,
and golden feathers shimmered like fragments of the sun.
Its body was a marvel—
were it not for the deep, crimson wounds
bleeding through its brilliance, threatening to stain its light.
Yet despite the pain,
its golden eyes burned with unbreakable pride.
Before it stood a dragon—
black as coal,
with eyes as red as ancient blood.
Its very presence made the world recoil.
It was not a meeting.
It was a collision of curses.
The bird opened its beak,
drawing light into its core,
then released a golden beam
that seared the very air.
Rocks ignited from the heat.
The beam pierced the dragon's chest.
It did not scream from pain.
It roared—
a storm of rage.
It lunged forward, claws sharper than any blade,
ripping through the bird's radiant feathers.
But the bird did not retreat.
Instead—
its body ignited.
Not with ordinary fire—
but with a flame that melted the darkness itself.
And for the first time…
the dragon stepped back.
The battle raged for days,
shaking the earth,
splitting the sky.
But darkness is cunning.
The dragon vanished—
withdrawing in silence,
unleashing shadows from beneath its wings,
turning day into absolute night.
All that remained was the bird's fading light.
Then—
the dragon was gone.
Silence fell,
until chains of black erupted from the void,
binding the bird,
dragging it down.
Its fall shattered the mountains.
Many thought all was lost.
But suddenly,
a light flickered through the dust.
The bird rose again.
It did not cry—
but released a call
that pierced time itself—
a call heard by every living creature…
even those yet to be born.
Thousands of spears of light burst from its body,
tearing the darkness to pieces.
At last,
the world heard the sound of the dragon's fall.
Just when the bird believed it had won…
the dragon made one final, desperate move.
It shattered its soul—
splitting it into five parts.
Five monstrous forms emerged from the dark fragments:
a serpent,
a scorpion,
a spider,
a three-headed hound,
and a raven—
all black,
as if born from the night itself.
Each vanished across the world,
leaving only a silence filled with dread.
And the bird…
watched.
Too weary to stop them.
But it would not surrender.
So it too divided its spirit—
not in despair,
but in hope.
Five radiant masses of golden light rose toward the heavens.
From them were born five majestic guardians:
an eagle,
a lion,
a panther,
a wolf,
and a deer.
Each one chased a shadow,
meant to balance what darkness had left behind.
And thus,
peace returned.
And thus,
the guardian spirits of mankind were born.
From the golden bird came the pure spirits.
From the black dragon came the corrupted ones.
Since that day,
neither of the two great beings has been seen again.
But on certain nights,
when silence rules the world…
a golden glow may flicker on the horizon.
The battle ended—
but it repeats, again and again—
with new heroes,
in each generation.
✦
The storyteller lifted her eyes—
a beautiful woman,
telling the tale to her son,
the tale every child in this age knows by heart—
the tale of how the world changed…
and the spirits appeared.
The boy looked toward the window—
where a white bird had just landed.
A beautiful, pure bird.
A cuckoo.
The woman approached,
gently brushing her hand over the bird's head.
It spread its wings joyfully,
welcoming her touch.
"My son… Ashiron,"
she said softly,
her voice like a lullaby.
"Your spirit is almost ready to awaken. I'm so excited… I wonder what you'll become."
A warm smile lit her face.