In the earliest epochs of creation—long before mortal history took shape—there existed an ember of pure cosmic will, cast adrift in the Void. Over the millennia, that ember absorbed fragments of astral power and primal chaos, forging a sentient presence known only in the oldest myths as The Obsidian Ascendant. A being of regal bearing and unfathomable age, it took form in swirling fractal patterns and molten shadows, reflecting the collision of starfire and darkness at the dawn of time.
Legends say the Ascendant first appeared to shepherd lost souls through the boundary between life and oblivion. But with each crossing, it harvested lingering sparks of mortal ambition, forging them into the baroque armor of living obsidian that now encases its form. These etched designs—twisting leaves, horned visages, fiery plumage—mirror the many mortal spirits it has guided or consumed.
Over centuries, certain cults and kingdoms sought to harness the Ascendant’s power, believing it a gateway to immortality. Scholars and sorcerers offered sacrifices of knowledge, arcane relics, and even living essence to entreat the entity’s favor. Yet The Obsidian Ascendant remains indifferent: neither benevolent nor malevolent, it judges each petition by a single standard—whether the seeker’s will can withstand the searing pressure of cosmic truth. Those who falter become part of the swirling tapestry that adorns its black armor, their desires crystallized into ornate fractal motifs.
Today, the Ascendant’s legend endures as both warning and promise. Some see it as the ultimate test of ambition, a crucible for refining the soul. Others see it as a devouring force, an unfeeling sentinel that balances cosmic equations by absorbing the unworthy. Still, its image beckons to dreamers, conquerors, and mystics alike—each one hoping to prove worthy and ascend alongside the living shadow, weaving a new strand into its infinite, obsidian tapestry.
lbc
Legends say the Ascendant first appeared to shepherd lost souls through the boundary between life and oblivion. But with each crossing, it harvested lingering sparks of mortal ambition, forging them into the baroque armor of living obsidian that now encases its form. These etched designs—twisting leaves, horned visages, fiery plumage—mirror the many mortal spirits it has guided or consumed.
Over centuries, certain cults and kingdoms sought to harness the Ascendant’s power, believing it a gateway to immortality. Scholars and sorcerers offered sacrifices of knowledge, arcane relics, and even living essence to entreat the entity’s favor. Yet The Obsidian Ascendant remains indifferent: neither benevolent nor malevolent, it judges each petition by a single standard—whether the seeker’s will can withstand the searing pressure of cosmic truth. Those who falter become part of the swirling tapestry that adorns its black armor, their desires crystallized into ornate fractal motifs.
Today, the Ascendant’s legend endures as both warning and promise. Some see it as the ultimate test of ambition, a crucible for refining the soul. Others see it as a devouring force, an unfeeling sentinel that balances cosmic equations by absorbing the unworthy. Still, its image beckons to dreamers, conquerors, and mystics alike—each one hoping to prove worthy and ascend alongside the living shadow, weaving a new strand into its infinite, obsidian tapestry.