The year is 997 After Flamesfall. The millennial anniversary of the Firebird's departure is fast approaching, and people all across the continent of Pretheya speak excitedly about it even a thousand days out. Rumours abound among the Shahru priesthood that the second coming fast approaches, sparking a fire in the hearts of believers that even the Alight himself cannot control.
In Landamar, all the talk is of the recent Heralyan conquest of Summerlen. The countries still following the Gaulir faith have been disadvantaged in warfare for centuries, owing to their inability to call upon Theos; but the tide seems to have finally turned with the introduction of Deveering and the new weapons of war it has wrought. As the millennial anniversary of the Wyrm Lord's death draws close, the Landamaeri turn their gaze to the mainland, and their eyes begin to glitter with the memory of a long-dead empire and the desire to remake it.
At the outskirts of Ethlarnashem, the people count the days to the thousandth anniversary of Lyri of Grestvyt's murder. They have watched as the mighty redwoods that once covered the land withered away and died, and the Shahru heathens in the south continued to encroach ever north into what was once their rightful land. Prayers abound for the Leskeln to descend from the forest and save them from the Rukhmarites, but the pleas of the forestkin continue to go unanswered.
In the west, the city of Flame's Providence looms over the rest of the continent from a throne of salt as the undisputed master of Pretheya; not through military might, but through unbridled religious power. Thousands of hands work tirelessly to till the fields of Zemet for what paltry crops they can produce, wasting away their lives to provide for the Vestaltir's army of priests; all in the hope that their next life will be a better one. At the heart of the city, the Alight gazes out from atop the Solar Spire towards Mount Varosok as it fumes and spits fire with a frequency never before seen. As he watches, he cannot help but wonder if there is some truth in what the people are saying.
Three years from now, the world will change in ways that the people of Pretheya could never even imagine. The continent will be bathed in fire, and the world which the great powers laboured to build will be rent apart. You, however, will not live to see it transpire.
But all that is a long way away yet. In the present, you have only just embarked upon your journey. Sequestered in a library at the edge of the world, you are one of but a small handful of individuals who possess an inkling of the oncoming change. With tome in hand, you set about your research to divine the fate of the continent. But in order to understand what is to come, you must first look backwards; not simply to the Flamesfall, but at the entire 3,000 years of history that have passed prior to this moment.
This is not the story of the turning of the millennium. Rather, it is the tale of all that lead up to it.
