Far away, in the beginning of time, when the stars were born from the breath of the Ancient Sky and the Earth was yet untamed, there existed a colossal bird whose wings stretched wide enough to cast shadows over the entire world. Her name was
Ziz, a being born from the winds themselves, a creature of such size and power that her wings could stir the very storms of the heavens. But among her many names, there was one whispered by the few who dared speak of her - a name that few truly understood -
Windrider. This was a name for a Ziz who had long cast aside her role as a mere creature of the skies. She had become a guide, a ruler of the winds, and a bearer of the cosmic secrets that none but she could fathom.
The lands below were ruled by mortal kings and gods, but above, in the unseen realms of the clouds, the Windrider roamed free, her feathers aglow with the light of forgotten stars. It was she who heard the whispers of the skies, who felt the pulse of the world's heartbeats from far above. Yet, despite her dominion over the heavens, a storm brewed within her heart. A deep, ancient longing took root, a yearning for something that transcended the limits of the skies she ruled.

This formidable Thunderblaze stands strong, wings spread like a symbol of power, ready to take flight into the unknown.
Long ago, when the first beings walked the Earth, the gods had forged a powerful artifact - a ring crafted not of earth or gold, but of the very essence of the heavens. This ring, known as the
Skyfall Ring, was a key to the gates of the world beyond worlds, where the ancient forces of creation slept. The ring had been hidden away, concealed by the gods in a vault at the center of the world, a vault guarded by trials no mortal nor god could endure. It was said that only one who could command the winds, who ruled the very fabric of the air, might be worthy of the ring's power.
For eons, the ring lay in waiting, untouched, its power growing ever more alluring to those who knew of its existence. Mortals whispered of the ring, and among them, some grew ambitious enough to seek it. Yet the gods had placed the greatest of all guardians to protect it - the
Windrider, for she alone understood the ancient forces bound to the ring. She alone knew of its destructive power, a power capable of tearing the heavens from their foundations.
But the
Windrider was no fool. She saw in the winds, the coming of a new age, a shift in the balance of the world. For there were whispers of a coming descent - a descent not from the gods themselves, but from the ancient titans who had been cast away long ago. They would seek the ring, seeking to return to their rightful place in the sky, and with them, the skies would shatter, bringing ruin to all beneath.
It was during this time, under the ominous foretellings of a great storm, that the
Windrider learned of a mortal king who dared seek the ring. His name was
Thalazar, a ruler from a distant land whose ambitions were as great as the winds themselves. He had heard the legends and believed that by seizing the ring, he could rule over both the heavens and the earth. He sent emissaries to find the vault, and they brought back cryptic clues, speaking of trials that only the
Windrider could decipher. And so, the king, driven by a lust for power, set out on a journey to the hidden vault with a small army at his back.
The
Windrider watched from above, her keen eyes fixed upon the army's movements. Though she could feel the storm of destiny swirling about them, she did not intervene. The time had come for the world to make its choice. The king's army traversed mountains, crossed deserts, and ventured into forgotten realms. They passed through trials that broke men and shattered armies, yet the king pressed forward, his will unwavering.
At the heart of the world, beneath the great mountains of the sky, the vault of the Skyfall Ring awaited. The vault was not built of stone or mortar, but of living air, a creation formed from the breath of the wind itself. The king, standing at its threshold, could hear the call of the ring, a soft whisper that promised unimaginable power. And yet, there was something that held him back - a presence he could not ignore.
It was then that the
Windrider descended, her massive wings sweeping the air with a sound like a thousand thunderclaps. She circled the vault, casting a shadow over the king and his men. Her eyes, vast and ancient, regarded the mortal king, and with a voice that echoed across the world, she spoke.

On a hilltop, this purple Thunderspark braces for the storm, wings spread wide, poised to harness the energy of the clouds swirling above.
"King Thalazar, you seek the ring, but know this: it is not yours to claim. The ring is a gift of the sky, and the skies belong to none but the winds themselves. You who walk on earth, you who are bound to time, cannot wield the power of the heavens. This power is not for mortal hands."
The king, unbowed, responded with defiance. "I am no mere mortal. I have crossed mountains, and I have conquered empires. What is a wind to me? I seek the ring not for myself, but to rule the world, to bring peace to those who suffer."
The
Windrider gazed at him, her great wings stretching wide. "Peace, you say? But peace built on the bones of the sky is a fragile peace, one that cannot endure. You would bring ruin to all, for you do not understand what you seek. The ring does not bend to ambition, nor does it grant dominion over all things."
And so, the trial began. The
Windrider did not fight with force, for she needed none. Instead, she called upon the winds of the ages, summoning gusts that could tear mountains from their roots, and whirlwinds that could swallow entire armies. The king and his men were thrown to the ground, helpless before her power. Yet, even as the king struggled, his heart grew fierce. He had tasted the winds, and he would not let them defeat him so easily.
Through the storm, he grasped the ring, his fingers touching its cold, gleaming surface. The winds howled in fury, but he did not relent. And in that moment, the
Windrider saw something she had not expected. The mortal king, despite his arrogance, had chosen to defy the will of the heavens, not for power, but for the sake of a dream - one that he believed could bring true peace.
The
Windrider descended to his side, her form towering above him. Her voice softened, no longer a roar of storms but a whisper of understanding.
"You have chosen, Thalazar. You have chosen to seek the impossible. But the winds have seen your heart. The ring is not for you, nor is it for me. It belongs to the sky, and it must remain in the vault, guarded for all eternity."

Be enthralled by the fierce spirit of the Red Windrider, a creature of power and grace, as it stands defiant, poised for the adventures that lie beyond the horizon.
The king, defeated but resolute, released his grip on the ring. And as the winds calmed, the
Windrider took to the skies once more, leaving the king to ponder his choice.
Thus, the Skyfall Ring remained hidden, guarded by the
Windrider, its power never to be claimed. And the
Windrider, whose wings spanned the world and whose heart carried the weight of the winds, returned to her eternal watch over the skies. Her name - Windrider - became legend, a tale told in the gusts of the wind, a reminder that even the greatest of powers must bow to the forces of fate.
And so, the myth of Windrider and the Ring of the Skyfall was born, a tale of ambition, power, and the unyielding will of the winds.