Tall trees, lavish gardens, and mysterious jungles all thrived in lush quantities on the Island Kingdom of Windevher. So many various floral and fauna types grew here that in the heart of the island tropics the pollen floated around in the air like glowing balls of fairy dust. And some believed it to be so- that the dust was that, enchanted- and was said to be sparkling bits of their child Goddess, Evra and that these bits, it could be heard- whispered her responses to your prayers.
That's why, if one were to venture into the jungles, even deep within they would find an ivory statue every so many miles of Evra- with only one gem residing in the center of the child's forehead- which was an offering from the island nation to their Saint.
Temples and shrines were everywhere, hidden in just about every beach corner and forest, and one primary church built in the center of the city of O'ffick, the island's capital. It was set upon a hills side over looking a cliff where one could see across the entire island and right on the veranda was the largest statue of their goddess. She was always sitting, with a casual stature about her and her head held high and her eyes- timeless as the chiseled stone. She had a sweet innocence about her, which one could even claim all the Evherien race possessed, for even the prince seemed to hold eyes like that of the child goddess, and he was well into his marriageable age.
But here it was, sweeping across a wide valley and intermingled between green and purple ferns, lush trees and tall grasses as well as a tall set of water falls (that fell in and through the tall, crystaline tower where the royal family lived)- was the grand city of a people the world would have yet to forget.
More than just cogs and gears worked here, but ancient magics that made things like canons and guns (which were only crude in their makings far to the west...), seem like infantile dreams. Here, this place really was a dream to those blessed enough to set foot upon it- for the Windevher Islands were so far out at sea it took only the strongest vessels to navigate, and even then, the dangerous rocks that scattered and jutted out from the ocean bottom made porting nearly impossible. Naturally, the Evheriens intimately knew their sea, so when they docked on other kingdom's ports, the tradesman lit up and were ready with just about any price for the fine silks and exotic goods these people had always offered.
And it was this wealth and secrecy in trade that caught the attentions of those jealous of anyone better than their own, and these would become known as a race of dogs...
But that darkness always lurked too far away and was always outshined by the jovial and open nature of the Evherien's. So trade went on as usual- until one day, the trade ships had not returned. But The people of Windevhr seemed hardly phased- simply blaming the weather as the week went on, with only some extra efforts in prayer. They could not conceive anything wrong could have happened....
Until it did.
And that's when the nation woke up to terror....
to find their own ships and weapons used against them- it was madness. Who cold have done this? How could it have happened? And while the people int he streets ran wild with chaos, the entire island began to shake.
Earlier that week....
On a hammock the red haired man slept, a lazy breeze swinging the equally lazy prince- his red staff at his side, his blue scarf resting across his hip, and his equally blue eyes closed. It was a peaceful and lazy day. Life could not be more perfect for the prince.
Life in Windevher was good.
