Celestia. The concept of a lost civilization, more advanced technologically than any other world of its days always had so much appeal, so much beauty attached to it. From when he was a small boy, Percy had wanted to be the one to find it. He wanted to be known all across the Spiral as a hero, an adventurer. But Percy always looked upon it as something not to be conquered, not to be taken, but something fragile that should simply be caressed and enjoyed.  

Percy was in his later adolescent years, nearing his twenty-sixth birthday. Because his older brother Malistaire had a passion for all things Dragonspyre, the three wizard brothers (including a disgruntled Cyrus) decided to take a trip there. The place, Percy admitted, was all rather beautiful. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that in the future, the beauty would come to an unfortunate demise. After all, every beautiful thing will and must come to an end at some point.

But at the moment, this eerie feeling didn’t have too much over the complete and utter feeling of surprise that had suddenly washed over him, turning his cheeks bright red. The three young brothers had walked into the Athenium’s boot shop, as Cyrus was in need of a new pair of shoes. Malistaire looked down at his younger, blue eyed brother and forced himself not to laugh.

“Got a little crush there, Perce?” he whispered teasingly.

“Shut up.” Percy snapped.

A merchant who worked alongside the boot merchant just so happened to be the most beautiful woman in the world—no, Spiral. She had diamond blue eyes and the most pure, most pale skin that looked so soft. She had typical Dragonspyric attire, and a silky hood. She looked tough enough that she could handle herself. She was no doubt the one for Perseus, and she happened to be gazing at him the same way he was blushing at her.

She raised her hand in a wave. “Hello, my name is Darina,” she greeted in a heavy Dragonspyric accent. Percy pushed back his jet black hair nervously.

“Hey. I’m P-Percy. I’m a Diviner. This is Cyrus, my brother, and a Conjurer.” I gestured to my other brother, “And this is Malistaire, a Necromancer. He and Cyrus are twins.” They can introduce themselves, smart one, Percy thought, embarrassed.

“It is vonderful to meet you all,” she said, still with a deep and hearty accent. “Vhat can I get for you all?”

This is how it all begins. This is the true beginning of Percy’s life. It’s the beginning of a beautiful one, even.

First comes flirting. Then comes the relationship, which is full of mutual respect and love and kindness and fondness. A few years off, and Percy finds himself on one knee, presenting Darina with an enchantingly beautiful diamond ring. Another few months pass and they’re married.  Two more years pass and Darina has a baby hump, which, despite her complaints about it being “unattractive” or even “a nuisance”, Percy finds rather lovely, in a sense.

The baby is born, and is a beautiful, maroon-eyed girl. Percy has no idea where she gets them, but Darina insists that red eyes indicate a natural talent for necromancy--and are not genetic. They decide to name the baby Chelsea, because the name has a sort of, well attractiveness to it.

“She’ll be loved by Malistaire if that’s true,” Percy smiles, blissfully taking in all the pure happiness overcoming him.

Five more years pass, and Percy has successfully established a career as an adventurer, after quitting his job alongside his brothers at Ravenwood. He thinks he really has a handle on the lost world of Celestia. He knows that if he can find it, he’ll be a hero, especially to his daughter.

Chelsea has developed a deep fondness for her uncle Malistaire. Though he and his wife are childless, she seems to enjoy spending time there. Malistaire, time and time again, has promised her that he would teach her all she can learn about Necromancy.

Cyrus has two daughters; Victoria, a three-year-old with a head of gorgeous brown locks, and Vanessa, a one-year-old with eyes that twinkled bright blue.

Another month passes, and Perseus knows the coordinates of Celestia. He has to go find it. Has to. He knows that it will mean leaving his wife and daughter behind, and, well, it will be difficult. He decides to put it off a couple years, and will share news with Marleybone’s royal expeditionary group.

Those years pass fast, and soon, Chelsea is nine years old. He has decided it’s time to face his destiny and speak with Marleybone. In a matter of weeks, he finds himself assisting in the construction of a dome to keep air inside of the sunken world that he’d discovered. Celestia.

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