Chapter 1: Prologue
The night sky bled red.
Where once hung a gentle, pale moon, now glared a crimson monstrosity—The Blood Grail Moon, as the old mages called it, their voices hushed with awe, dread, and reverence.
Unseen by most, hidden beyond the veil of the ordinary, the Gates stirred. They groaned open with the sound of groaning stone and whispering madness—thresholds to places no scripture dared name, no legend dared speak aloud.
Only a rare few could sense these doorways. Fewer still possessed the will—or the madness—to call something through them.
This was that night.
Tonight, mages would gamble everything. They would summon beings, Heroes, older than myth, barter their lives, souls, and sanity, all for a single, impossible prize:
The Arcanum Eidolon!
A Wish-Granting Relic!
Not a simple wish, but a reweaving of fate itself!
For this miracle, for this hope, mages would do anything.
Because no matter the era, no matter the world, humanity’s longing for what it cannot have is endless.