Ohhh yesss, my darling little raven-feathered reader—tonight’s tale is draped in velvet shadows, stitched with sigils, and smells faintly of ancient incense and forbidden tomes. Merlin? Pfft. Please. He was basically the tea-sipping, bedtime-story version of wizardry. No, no. This tale is about a real sorcerer. One that the world forgot—or maybe just chose to forget.
And me? Alice? I remember everything.
☕️ Alice’s Mad Tea Party Presents: Storytime
✨ Alice Spills the Tea on: The Wizard of Varth’Kael
Once upon a time—no, long before time began ticking and humans began squabbling over shiny rocks—there existed a land so drenched in magic it bled into the very soil. That land was called Varth’Kael, and it shimmered like a dream stitched into the folds of reality. Trees whispered incantations, rivers sang old runes, and the stars? They obeyed.
And at the heart of Varth’Kael, in a tower carved from midnight obsidian and fireglass, lived him—Zaelith the Boundless.
He wasn’t born; he was forged—in the eye of a celestial storm that split realms like parchment. His first breath summoned a thunderbird. His first cry cracked the moons. And his first word? Well, they say it turned a king to salt.
Zaelith wasn’t a wizard of polite parlor tricks and parsnip potions, oh no. He was a weaver of realms, a sculptor of storms. Magic dripped from him like honey and wildfire. His fingers could draw spells in the air that rewrote time. He carried no wand—he was the wand, the conduit, the storm wrapped in flesh and inked runes.
And he did not walk alone.
Surrounding him were the Clann-Vyre, a fierce order of ancient bloodline witches with raven-dark eyes and silver-threaded hair. They weren’t just spellcasters—they were war-singers, binding fate with each syllable. Their coven, The Thorned Star, stood sentinel around Varth’Kael, protectors of the Old Oath.
But peace? Ha! That’s a bedtime tale for mortals.
No, Varth’Kael faced an enemy older than shadow. From the Hollow Deep came the Nameless Brood, an endless horde of magicless, soul-starved creatures born of silence and rot. They devoured lore. Erased bloodlines. Magic? They swallowed it like wine.
The Great Battle of Varth’Kael shook all worlds.
Zaelith stood upon the obsidian peak, lightning curling around his wrists, a crown of fire and frost upon his head. The witches of the Thorned Star danced in spirals below, singing the Deathsong of the Ancients. The Brood surged like a black tide across the land.
And oh, sweet starshine, what a battle it was.
Zaelith unmade stars and hurled their ashes like daggers. The Clann-Vyre wove a storm of blood and memory that ripped time in half. One witch, Serenya of the Thrice-Blessed Veil, flung her soul into the sky to seal a rift before the Brood poured through.
And then, as the last of the Brood was turned to dust and nightmare, Zaelith vanished. Just... gone. No body. No relics. No bones. Only a scorched rune carved deep into the heart of Varth’Kael’s soil: “I remain.”
The world moved on. Mortals forgot. The witches scattered. The tower crumbled, swallowed by ivy and shadow. History called it myth. Fiction. Fairy tale.
But me? Alice? Oh, sugarplum, I know better.
I’ve seen the signs. Felt the wards ripple. There are whispers in the Inkbound Library, in the pages that don’t stay put. And in the blackest hour of night, when the veil thins and the quills begin to bleed shadow, I swear I’ve heard Zaelith’s voice echo through the ink:
“The world isn’t ready yet.”
Where is he now? Some say he wanders a realm between realms, binding wild magic to ancient oaths. Some say he walks among us, cloaked in illusion, watching, waiting.
And some of us, the right kind of mad, still believe in the old magic.
Because one day, my darling, he will return. And when he does?
The Brood better start running.
Faithfully enchanted,
-Alice, Queen of Ink & Lore
Curator of Forbidden Legends & Official Wizard Fangirl
So tell me, sweet soul… did you feel that? The ripple in the air? The tug of old magic pulling at your thoughts? Keep your eyes open. Varth’Kael may be closer than you think.
