The Tale of The Lost City
In a world beyond the realms of ordinary human understanding, there existed the magical land of Avolon. This stunning city enthralled every visitor with its majestic hills, sparkling rivers, and glistening towers that kissed the clouds. The beauty of Avolon was richly complemented by the abundance of magic, good will, and wisdom that dwelled within it. However, all that the city once was is now deciphered from tales told by the aged, for Avolon is lost, disappeared into the shrouded mists of history.
Avolon was inhabited by the pure-hearted people capable of magic. The city was ruled by a just and powerful king, Arnost, known for his wisdom and tactical skills. King Arnost was justly proud of his kingdom, he nurtured the city like his very own child.
Every sunrise brought with it the enchanting melody from the magical harp, and every sunset was complemented with the magical dance of the dainty will-o-wisps around the city. The inhabitants were the masters of elemental magic, who healed the injured, protected the weak, and had solutions to all problems of the physical world.
Children of Avolon were groomed from an early age to understand and respect their innate magical abilities. Their eyes gleamed with innocence and curiosity, their hearts nurtured dreams larger than themselves, and their small hands already held power and responsibilities than many adults in the non-magical world.
One such child was Elara, a lovely and lively girl with a heart as pure as the sparkling rivers of Avolon. She had a transformational magic ability that even elders found hard to master. An unforgettable incident marked her journey of becoming the greatest mage Avolon had ever known. While playing near the river, her friend fell and was dragged by the current. While adults were rushing for help, brave Elara jumped in. As she touched her friend, her latent powers surfaced, and she transformed herself and her friend into a pair of fishes, averting the certain doom that awaited them.
News of Elara's bravery and prowess spread throughout Avolon, lightening hopes in the hearts of Avolonites. The prophecy that spoke of a legendary mage that would bring eternal glory to Avolon, many believed, Elara was destined to be that mage.
Years rolled by, Elara grew into an intelligent woman, her magical abilities surpassed all the mages in Avolon, and her beauty was as radiant as the first light of dawn. Elara's fame grew beyond the boundaries of Avolon, and whispers of her greatness reached the ominous Kingdom of Dusk.
The Kingdom of Dusk was shrouded in darkness, its inhabitants thrived on chaos and destruction. Its ruler, the ruthless sorcerer King, Ciaran, yearned for invincibility. He believed that by capturing Elara, he could unlock the secret powers of transformation magic, hence, planned an invasion on Avolon.
Trusting her abilities, fearsome and prepared, Elara stood tall as Ciaran's ferocious army neared Avolon. An intense battle ensued on the once peaceful land resulting in heavy losses. Elara resisted Ciaran’s forces with her transformation magic. However, Ciaran was cunning and caught Elara. Instead of claiming victory, he challenged Elara to a one-on-one combat.
With no choice left, Elara gathered all her courage and strength for the battle that ensued. After hours of relentless fighting, Elara saw an opportunity and transformed herself into an enormous phoenix. With a swift and fiery attack, she defeated Ciaran, freeing Avolon from the threat.
Ciaran's defeat had a catastrophic effect on the Kingdom of Dusk. The spell holding it intact was broken, and it collapsed into oblivion, taking the Lost City of Avolon with it. After the immense fight, Elara succumbed to her injuries. Before her death, with the flicker of magic, she ensured Avolon's people found a safe haven.
Avolon, the city of magic and lore, disappeared into history, leaving behind tales of its glory and the legendary mage who sacrificed herself for her people. The once vibrant city lives on in the hearts and minds of the survivors, whispering its stories to the winds, hoping that they would reach the parchments of time.