Long ago, in an age obscured by mists of time, when the earth still trembled with the breaths of forgotten gods and magic wove through the very fabric of nature, there existed a sanctuary, hidden from the eyes of men and gods alike. Its name was
Elenar, a realm where the purest form of knowledge was guarded and where the ancients, those who wielded time itself, whispered in silence. It was a place of refuge for the lost secrets of the universe - secrets that the gods, in their pride, had sworn to never reveal.
But the sanctuary's peace was not to last forever. A great war began, one that spanned the realms of the gods, mortals, and the spirits that inhabited the twilight between the worlds. It was a war not of conquest or dominion, but of exile. For in the heart of Elenar lay a key, a key to a realm that even the gods feared. A portal to the Sanctum of Unspoken Dreams, where time could be bent and reality twisted. No being, not even the gods themselves, could let such a power remain free.
The gods sought to destroy the key and hide its knowledge forever, but it was not the gods alone who moved against Elenar. A creature, older than the stars themselves, watched from the shadows - an ancient being of wings and riddles, whose name was whispered only in hushed tones: the Winged Sphinx. She was a guardian of forbidden truths, a keeper of balance between the realms. Her wings, vast as the horizon, were said to blot out the sun when unfurled, and her eyes - glistening like twin moons - could see through all illusions. She was a creature of great wisdom, her voice a chorus of mysteries wrapped in riddles, and her presence was both a blessing and a curse.
It is said that the Winged Sphinx had been born not from the earth, nor the gods, but from the very conflict of existence itself. She existed to challenge the arrogance of both the divine and the mortal, to preserve the balance of knowledge, to prevent any one being or power from ruling over all. Her riddles were the tests of fate, her wisdom the path to salvation - or ruin.
When the gods decreed the exile of Elenar, sending their legions to obliterate the sanctuary and its hidden key, it was the Winged Sphinx who stood between them and their goal. She did not fight as a warrior would, with blade or shield, but with the ancient power of words and mysteries. When the gods sent their armies to tear through the veil and breach Elenar's defenses, it was she who met them at the gates of the sanctuary.
Her wings spread wide, darkening the sky with their shadow. Her voice, both a melody and a storm, echoed across the heavens as she spoke the first riddle:
"Who among you can reach the stars and touch the flame, yet still stand unburned?"
The gods, proud in their power, sought to answer, but none could. With every failed answer, the Sphinx weaved her magic, bending the very fabric of reality to confound their minds. The gods' armies faltered, and in their confusion, Elenar remained safe - if only for a time.
But the gods, desperate to cleanse the world of this hidden power, sent forth their most cunning emissary, the Seraphim of Flame. With a heart forged in fire, the Seraphim sought to burn away the Sphinx's riddles with sheer force. Her flames were eternal, her wings scorched the earth. Yet, the Sphinx only smiled, her eyes gleaming with wisdom, and she posed a new riddle:
"What is the fire that consumes but leaves no trace? What is the flame that burns with no heat, yet scorches the soul?"
The Seraphim could not answer, for she had not learned that fire, in its purest form, was not of this world. In a moment of her failure, the Sphinx's wings swept through the heavens like a tempest. The Seraphim's flames were extinguished, and her essence was bound within the eternal sands of time, a prisoner to the Sphinx's riddle.
The gods, enraged by their inability to capture the Winged Sphinx, resorted to their most powerful weapon: the Dragon of Night. Born from the depths of the underworld, the dragon was a creature of darkness and shadows, capable of erasing all light. It was said that the dragon could devour not only the body, but the very soul of its prey, leaving behind nothing but emptiness.
The Winged Sphinx met the dragon beneath the moonless sky. She did not flee, nor did she fight. She stood still, her wings folding like the petals of an ancient flower, her voice rising once more:
"What is the shadow that consumes all light yet has no form? What is the darkness that lives within the hearts of men?"
The dragon, relentless in its hunger, could not answer. It recoiled in confusion, its vast form shrinking as the Sphinx's words twisted its essence. In a final, desperate act, the dragon vanished into the abyss, unable to escape the riddle that bound it.
The gods, seeing that their forces could not win, turned to their final plan: the exile of Elenar itself. They would cast the sanctuary, and all who resided there, into the void between worlds, where no mortal or god could ever reach. But as they attempted to seal the sanctuary away, it was the Winged Sphinx who acted, her voice rising like a tidal wave:
"You seek to exile what was never meant to be bound. You seek to erase what cannot be undone. But know this: The power of Elenar is not in the key, but in the hearts of those who protect it. And no exile can erase what exists within the soul."
With those words, the Sphinx spread her wings wide, and the sanctuary of Elenar was cast into the void. The Winged Sphinx, with her eternal wisdom, had not just protected the sanctuary, but had ensured its safety, casting it beyond the reach of those who would exploit its power.
And so, the Winged Sphinx disappeared from the world, her legend woven into the fabric of myth and dream. To this day, it is said that her wings can still be seen in the skies on the darkest of nights, and her riddles echo in the hearts of those who seek knowledge. The sanctuary of Elenar remains hidden, untouched by time, its secrets preserved for those worthy enough to seek them out - if they can find the answers to the Sphinx's riddles.
For as long as the Winged Sphinx watches over the balance of the worlds, no power, no god, and no force shall ever again threaten the hidden sanctuary. The exile of Elenar is eternal, but its protector lives on, a whisper in the wind, a shadow in the moonlight - a riddle for the ages.