SPOILER WARNING!

Please note that this chapter includes snippets or parts of the Marvel movie, the Eternals. I have tried to stay away from spoiling anything major in the movie, although some things written below may do so. So please, if you don't want anything about the movie spoiled, don't read.

Anything recognisable is not mine, although I have put a major spin on a few classic tales/myths/legends.

It is said that the Yggdrasil is none other than the World Ash. That it was a tree that had always been and forever will be.

It's branches hung above the Nine Realms, and as such the realms were in turn linked to the great tree.

The Yggdrasil's roots were thick and deep, carefully tended to by the three Norns, otherwise known as the Fates. Physical nourishment for the roots of the great World Ash came from three different wells. The first reached far into the realm of Asgard and the dominion of the gods, guzzling greedily from the well of Wyrd, which also shared its name with the eldest of the three Norn. The second root dipped into the frozen wastes of Jotunheim and into the land of the Frost Giants, seeking to quench its never-ending thirst in the well Mimir, of which was once also a god. Only the head of the once-god managed to survive the creation of the realm and the root of the Yggdrasil tree drank deeply from the well, seeking the magical herbs that were scattered within that would help keep such a tree so mighty and ever-standing.

The third root wound its way deep within the realm of Niflheim and the well that was found there. Though unlike the others, this well was nothing but a scum-filled fountain of black water and was known as Vergelmir. It was here that the third root of Yggdrasil found no respite, poisoned by the very waters it drank; gnawed upon on all sides by a many a serpents that dwelled in the well's depths; the scent of death and dying rising from its wounds. And even with all these inflictions placed upon the ancient root, deep within the Vergelmir was the great winged dragon Nithog who sat himself at the root's very base and continued to cause damage upon the Yggdrasil that would have had any other tree withering and dying.

But the magnificent tree stood tall and proud as it always had and always would, the very foundations of each realm woven within its very roots and branches and was a point of communication between all. Though like most things of legend, the name Yggdrasil held many evil connotations and when translated meant 'Steel of Ygg' or, 'Steel of Odin'. It was even said that at one time, Odin himself longed to know the secrets of the runes - the symbols and shapes that would one day become the writing we know today. The understandings of the runes was a cherished gift and in order to acquire such knowledge came with a terrible sacrifice; for all who understood power also understand its cost.

The All-Father longed for many years to acquire that knowledge and one day he felt prepared enough to make the sacrifice. He went to the Norns, the physical caretakers of the great tree and was told that his price was to hang himself by his neck from the main bough of the World Ash. He was to remain there, swinging in the frozen anarchy of the dark winds for nine days.

It was said that Odin, the most bravest of the gods, the father of all, screamed with such terror and pain that the gods held their hands to their ears for each of those long, agonising nine days. But Odin's strength of character carried him through the torturous ordeal and on the nineth day he was, at once, the master of the magic runes; the only bearer of the secret along the length of the great tree. Though he did not horde his knowledge, sharing it amongst his friends, and with that, his wisdom became legendary.

And so there he sat at the helm of the Nine Realms which stretched from Asgard in the topmost branches of the Yggdrasil and all the way down to the world of Helheim at its lowest root. In between were the worlds of the Vanir; called Vanaheim, Midgard; where the humans lived, as well as the worlds of the light elves, the dark elves, the dwarfs, the frost and hill giants and the fire-giants of Muspell.

But hidden within the roots of the Yggdrasil, there was another realm.

A realm where the very magic that ran through the pathways of the great World Ash and connected the Nine Realms to one another was born, nurtured, and protected.

The realm was known as Baelvain, the Protecting Spirit, and the planet that lay at Magic's very core was known as Alivain.

This is also where this story truly begins.

As they made their way back to the TARDIS, the Doctor glanced to his Nesdra when she let out a heavy breath. He felt her stiffen slightly as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, though otherwise pretended not to notice, deciding to just provide her with his silent presence. His own mind was still trying to process everything he'd just witnessed and knew even he needed a moment, or maybe a few hours to try and process everything.

Aries glanced at the Time Lord as her posture relaxed, her lips turning downwards at the corners. She had so many thoughts - questions! - that she had swirling in her mind that were busting to get out. But Aries didn't even know where to start. More than half of the questions she had alone regarded her own magic, and the red head knew that if she were to ask them, it would lead into a conversation she wasn't quite ready for. Aries had no idea as to what to think about her own magic as it were, having seen not one, but two people use abilities so like her own - one of those two even shifting into a form Aries had once believed to be impossible. Magical animagus were unheard of as far as she'd known, but not even ten minutes ago she had watched a man she'd only just meet turn into a bloody owl-gryphon.

They alone were legends in the magical world.

But this wasn't the magical world. It wasn't even her world.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

The red head looked back to the Doctor, feeling his hold around her tightening just slightly with his question and seeing the concern in his eyes. She opened her mouth to tell him, to ask one of the hundreds of questions circling her mind, but found the words lodged in her throat and she snapped it closed. Looking away once more, Aries' frown only deepened as she tried to understand what was holding her back. She knew that the Doctor would listen to her and try and help her find her answers, but there was something stopping her. Even now he was waiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts, and although that was what Aries was trying to do, she found the task almost impossible.

Images kept flashing across her mind. Of Va'ly before her, the staff that he'd conjured at her throat. The Druid appearing in the same spot where the TARDIS had just been, from thin air no less as if he were dispelling a disillusionment charm. The very same man's hand growing back and the realisation that he was far more than skilled with a blade. Even Vera's appearance in the TARDIS flickered across her mind, and none of them were helping the witch try and organise them.

"I didn't think she'd do something like that," she finally said after a few minutes of silent walking, the pair having ignored the rather animated conversation happening behind them between Vera, Rose, and Mickey.

"Who?" the Doctor asked, his gaze sliding to her even as he kept his head facing the ahead.

"Harriet," Aries replied with a sigh. "I had thought that..." she trailed off, shaking her head as if trying to get the images of what the Prime Minister had done out of her head.

"Hey," the Doctor pulled her closer, "People change. And sometimes not for the better."

Aries felt like a jolt had gone through her at the Doctor's words. It was almost like a lightbulb moment as realisation crashed over her as to why she didn't want to talk to the Doctor. She was terrified of what he might think of her. Sure he had seen her use her magic and heard her talk about things she had no right knowing. By the gods he had even listened to her and accepted the fact that she was an un-aging, time-displaced, hundred plus year old human.

So why the hell couldn't she talk to him about her magic?

Her silver-grey eyes drifted upwards to the sky where the Sycorax ship had been as confusion decided to join the swirling, raging pool of emotions inside her. Her mind went back to how this day had all begun; back to what she had done that had resulted the Doctor in regenerating. And as much as she wanted to believe that it had been his choice in the end, Aries still couldn't forget how it had been her decision that had the Heart of the TARDIS opening. That she had been too selfish to let him go.

Guilt gnawed at her as she turned her gaze back to the Time Lord at her side. "And what about you?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

His smile was soft even as his arm tightened ever so slightly around her. "Why don't we find out together?" he asked.

Neither Aries nor the Doctor noticed the dark glare being sent there way as Rose's eyes narrowed.

Nor did they see Vera nudge Mickey, pointing at Aries as the red head relaxed against the Doctor as they walked ahead. A sigh left the young man's lips as he handed the blonde five pounds, though there was a smile on both their faces.

Darkness was all they knew.

They were nothing but vast entities with a knack for energy manipulation; the first forms of existence in the entire Void and as such lived long before the birth of creation and the beginning of time.

These beings - Celestials as they came to be known - were led by the one called Arishem, and through their cosmic abilities they created the Yggdrasil - the very planets, stars, and lifeforms that we know today.

But like all new beginnings, a seed was needed.

It was their first true creation; their will and intent brought to form, and within the Seeds' makeup was the foundations of life.

Six Celestials blessed the Seed with their powers, the first being Lakhmu who gifted it the vastness of space and the knowledge of each star and planet. Along with their many, many names.

Ziadu was next, the Celestial blessing the Seed with its power; imbuing it with the resilience to withstand anything that it may face as it grew an matured.

The next two Celestials to give their blessing were Dumuzid and Shamash, the former gifting the Seed with the blessing of time, allowing it the chance to grow into legend, while the latter gifted it with the absolute truth that was reality and the knowledge that all time must eventually come to an end.

The last two to step forth an offer their blessing were the Celestials' Mummu and Naditabirus. Mummu, unlike the others who had touched the Seed as they gave their blessing, instead breathed softly upon the Seed and instilling it with the life-giving force that people would one day claim to call a soul. And with the Celestial's breath, Naditabirus touch gifted the Seed with a sense of mind; allowing it to think and understand, to learn and grow with its other gifts.

And when the seed was ready, Arishem took it within its hands and planted it in the deepest, darkest reaches of the Void.

At the dawn of the universe, there was nothing.

The Celestials however, already such ancient beings, waited with a patience only they possessed and it was not long before they were rewarded, the Seed exploding into life.

The Big Bang sent roots, branches, leaves, and even fruit of the great Yggdrasil hurtling through the bleak Void that had held nothing before. Magic pulsed from within the roots of the newly-grown World Ash and tendrils of energy wound its way around the tree, bringing a part of the power imbued into the Seed with it as it did so.

And so the universe's birth came to pass, and with it came the creation of the Nine Realms.

Dumuzid's blessing of time had the Celestials watching as it passed over their creation; planets forming, nurturing life before slowly dying. Civilisations of all sizes rose and fell like the rise and fall of the tides, some even falling away to nothing but myth and legend. But still their blessings upon the Yggdrasil's Seed continued.

However, unbeknownst to the Celestials and hidden deep within the World Ash's roots lay a secret.

Within the realm of Magic, in a galaxy known only as Baelvain and on the planet Alivain - the very core and source of the Yggdrasil's magical power - a race of protectors were being created. For just as Mummu had breathed upon the Seed and gifted it the Breath of Life, the Celestial had also unknowingly gave that same blessing to the very Magic that the Seed had been instilled with. And with Naditabirus' blessing of a mind, that same Magic had come to understand that it itself could also be used in the Yggdrasil's very destruction.

And so it worked its own kind of magic; diverting, stunting, accelerating, and even wiping out creatures and creations of all forms of life until it had made the perfect caretakers. These caretakers, these Arkentors were the Mages of the Void and the Caretakers of Magic. But most of all, they were Protectors. Linked with the very power that had created the universe, these caretakers tended to Magic, slowly spreading themselves out across the realms to aid the tendrils of power that only they could see.

Why Magic felt the need for protectors was necessary when it was made up by the very same energy the Celestials that had created the World Ash had used was unknown. But deep within Magic's makeup were memories; lingering 'scars' that spoke of the end of all things. The coming of Ragnarök. And Magic knew that it needed to be prepared. It had seen through its caretakers just what the Celestials were doing; the remains of planets and sudden withdrawals from the very power that helped give them life speaking far more than the words of Mortals and Gods ever could.

And even Magic knew that it was not shielded from the Celestials desires.

For although the these timeless beings were able to create the planets, stars, and lifeforms - the very Yggdrasil itself, Magic had also seen them destroy those same creations without thought or hesitation. These Celestials pushed the very boundaries of their own existence - of the very balance of life in the universe by manipulating life and using them for their reproduction. Even being blessed with the ability to see the reality of life for what it was, along with the blessing of a mind to understand that all things must eventually come to an end, Magic also understood that everything came with a price. That even it itself must 'pay the piper'.

And Magic's price was Alivain.

Being at the very centre of the Yggdrasil's magical powers, Alivain held the knowledge written within very the leys of Magic and the continuous, never-ending cycle from the beginning of creation and the World Ash's planting, all the way to Ragnarök and the end of all things. Mortals and gods alike feared the coming of Ragnarök; the claws of the undeniable end sinking further and further into their minds with each passing of Sol and Mani; the wolves Sköll and Hati Hróðvitnisson growing ever closer to catching both as they chased the gods within the chariots through the skies. It was the cataclysmic destruction of the cosmos and everything held within - and that included the Realm of Magic as well.

It is said that the stars that Lakhmu had given to the mighty Yggdrasil would disappear from the heavens, leaving nothing but a bleak, black void in its place that spoke of a time long before light and time even existed. The mighty Yggdrasil; the very World Ash the Celestials had created, planted, and watched as it grew, flourished, and thrived before it fell into nothing but myths and legends; the very thing that held the cosmos together would tremble all the way to the topmost branches as the dragon Nithog finally chewed through the root deep within the well of Vergelmir. Across the Nine Realms, trees and mountains would fall. The red cock Fjalarr, who lives in Gálgviðr will crow in alarm and awaken the jötnar for the final struggle of Ragnarök.

The chain that had been holding back the monstrous Fenris wolf, Fenrisúlfr would snap and allow the beast the freedom it had so desired the moment the gods had first confined him. His brother Jörmungandr, the mighty serpent who dwells in his prison deep within the bottom of the seas and oceans of Midgard, encircling the land in its underwater prison would finally manage to breach the surface, rising from the depths and spilling the seas all over Midgard as it finally makes landfall. The convulsions such an action would produce would manage to shake the ship Naglfar free from its moorings.

Naglfar, the ship made up from nothing but the fingernails and toenails of many a dead man and woman, would sail effortlessly across the flooded earth and towards Vígríðr. Its crew, nothing but an army of jötnar, the very forces of chaos and destruction, would cheer on their captain who was none other than Loki Odinson, the God of Mischief himself. Loki will have broken free from the chains of which the same gods he leads the jötnar towards, the same gods that called him a traitor, had bound him in. His two children Fenrisúlfr and Jörmungandr would continue to wreak havoc and destruction upon Midgard, the great Fenris wolf running across the planet with his lower jaw on the ground and his upper jaw against the top of the sky, devouring everything in his path as fire blazed from his eyes and nostrils. The mighty serpent Jörmungandr would writhe and twist as he spat his venom over the world; poisoning land, water, and air alike.

The skies above would split and from the cracks shall emerge the fire-jötnar of Muspelheim. Their leader would be Surtr, wielding his fiery sword that burned brighter than the sun as he led his people across the Bifrost and to the home of the Aesir. The rainbow bridge would break and crumble behind them as the Magic that once held it together disappeared from the Yggdrasil. Upon their arrival to Asgard, an ominous horn blast will ring throughout the Nine Realms as Heimdall, the divine sentry of the Bifrost would blow the Gjallarhorn to announce the arrival of the moment the gods had always feared. Odin, even with all his wisdom, would anxiously consult the head of Mimir, the wisest of beings for counsel.

But with the arrival of Ragnarök, despite what the prophecies have foretold concerning the outcome of this final clash, the gods would still go to battle. They would arm themselves and meet their enemies on the field named Vígríðr and the end of the universe shall come to pass once more.

Some would say that it would be the end of the tale - and of all tales for that matter. But even tales have beginnings, and Ragnarök is no different. For within the roots of the Yggdrasil and on the planet where Magic resided, deep within Alivain's very core, there was a being - a Celestial that had existed since the Seed had first been created. Slumbering deep within the planets' core it waited. It waited as the great World Ash grew and aged, as the Magic that unknowingly fed it grew stronger as its tendrils stretched across all the Nine Realms.

But Magic was not naïve.

It, like the very Celestials that had created the Seed and allowed it to grow, was ageless. It had existed long before Dumuzid's blessing was given to the Seed and long before Knowhere was planted withing Alivain's very core.

And so when the Celestial that had been slowly growing deep within Alivain finally felt that it was time; tearing its way through the planets crust like an impatient hatchling exploding from an egg, Magic was ready.

Knowhere's destruction upon Alivain was the beginnings of Ragnarök, severing the ties Magic held over the realms so quickly and severely that the scars of its destruction rippled along the tree's leys and lingered long after the end of all things had passed and the cycle had restarted anew.

And within these memories, these scars, held the warning of what was to come.

For with the end of another cycle and the planting of a new beginning, Magic knew that it would only have but one chance at success.

As Arishem planted the Seed in the deepest part of the Void; while the Celestials waited for the start of a new cycle, Magic plotted.

As the cycle begun anew, Big Bang echoing throughout time itself as the World Ash grew once more, deep in its roots and hidden on Alivain, Magic made its move.

As it pulsed, sending its own roots and tendrils across the mighty Yggdrasil, Magic withdrew itself from the Celestial within Alivain's core; withdrew its power source from the very clutches of its demise and placed it within the hands of its caretakers.

Six were chosen.

Six Arkentors, that when together held the strength, power, and faith to allow Magic to work through them. And for their faith, each were gifted with a singular stone of pure magic to protect.

Eirhar Renkash was the first chosen. She was one of the oldest and wisest of the Arkentors with hair so long that it almost touched the ground and so silver with age that no-one knew what colour it had originally been. Eirhar had been one of the first protectors that Magic had created and had helped assist in the rise of many a civilisations. And so with Magic's blessing, she was given the Ulviir-Rauv to protect.

Second to be chosen was a young man that went by the name of Azaemar Nesya. Who, with his free spirit and wild heart, along with his ever-present smile, Magic had come to see him as the perfect protector of the Ilm-Rauv. For deep behind his charming smiles and childish ways hid a heart of gold and a soul as pure as the first sun.

Iktra Welvbriz was the next. He was a tall, strong man who also knew compassion. He lived a humble life and had used the strength he'd been born with to both protect his people and provide for his family. And so he was given the Jorva-Rauv, Magic happy with the knowledge that it would never be used for ill intent or selfish reasons.

The fourth Arkentor to be chosen was a rather eccentric woman whose gaze always seemed to linger on the stars. Though no-one could deny that Ruanal Amasie told the best tales about lands that lay far beyond their realm. Her unique, natural knowledge on the subject had Magic leaving the Drati-Rauv under her care. It knew that with the stone in the storyteller's hands, every Arkentor would come to know the name of every star and planet that glittered above their fires at night, as well as the ones that were unseen. And that this knowledge would be spread far and wide.

The next chosen was a wise old man by the mane of Naddiv Malagshe, whose frail frame and wrinkled skin hid a sharp mind within. The youngest of the Arkentors believed that he had to be part Kitsune as Naddiv always managed to pull one over them before they'd even gotten the chance to try. And although he was rather cunning and mischievous - quite like the Kitsune he was claimed to be - Magic left him with the Fortai-Rauv with but a chuckle; a feeling that seemed to bring a new spark of life into his aged bones that allowed him to keep his harmless mischief running circles around the younger generations for a long time to come.

The last Arkentor to be chosen, Magic found them to be rather fickle. Ghymnsar Skrymor was a man of the realms, having travelled further than any before him to learn all there was of the ways of old. His appearance was harsh, his countenance even more so and he tolerated very little while understood so much. Ghymnsar knew death, life, loss, love, heartbreak, and joy. He understood the truth that was life and death and the never-ending cycle of the cosmos. And so Magic left him with the Kyro-Rauv.

But Magic wasn't finished.

It knew what is was asking of these six was no light thing and so it gifted them with a companion. A familiar, if you will, in the form of a creature that best fit their personality. These beings held the ability to live as long as their masters would, allowing these chosen six some comfort with the knowledge that their tasks would not be done in solitude. Eirhar's companion appeared to her in the form of a winged dragonet, staying at her side as it grew, aged, and learned. Azaemar found his companion in the form of a Pegasus, the colt matching his love of life with every step, run, or even fly they shared. Iktra's familiar appeared in the form of a Cerberus, the great three-headed dog always appearing beside its master as they protected those under their care. Ruanal's allowed the stargazer a closer look at those very stars, the blue-fire phoenix taking her all across the realms and beyond to learn and share her tales to any who'd listen. And there really wasn't any surprise when Naddiv's companion appeared in the form of a multi-tailed fox, the mischievous Kitsune assisting him in any and all his pranks. For the last, Magic gave Ghymnsar a companion in the form of a Amarok, who unlike other wolves and much like the Arkentor, preferred to travel without a pack.

And so, as the universe came into existence following Big Bang's explosion, six pre-existing gifts that had become the very Magic that helped support the Yggdrasil, spreading itself out across the great World Ash's roots, branches, and leaves and gifting the tree with the Celestials blessings, turned on its very creators and took on solid form. And with Magic's will, the Infinity Stones were born.

The six Arkentors chosen to protect Magic's Stones were to become the first Guardians - the first Drailvec imk niar Diath Rauvec.

They, with their companions, traversed across the realms, tending to the magic that they'd been tasked to protect. They became the physical conducts between Magic and the mighty Yggdrasil; conducts and hosts to do Magic's bidding without complaint. For these six Guardians knew why Magic had done what it had, as well as why it had asked them to complete such a task.

For deep within Alivain's core and where Magic had once resided, the Celestial that would cause the beginnings of Ragnarök still slumbered.

Knowhere still waited.

The Doctor shook his head as he rummaged through the clothes rack before him with no luck.

He'd left Aries in the library with a hot cup of tea and Vera for company, wanting to finally get out of the pyjamas he was wearing. But he also wanted to use this time to give them both a chance to gather their thoughts. He had felt it through their link just how rattled Aries had been by everything that had happened and knew that she needed time to sort through her thoughts - away from him. He wasn't certain how he knew that whatever was troubling his Nesdra included him, but the Doctor didn't really care.

If he were honest, the Time Lord felt as though he needed to do the same. Which was why he was currently searching for a new outfit to wear, trying to sort through his own thoughts.

A brown suit managed to catch his eye and he pulled it off the rack, holding it up in front of him. Noticing a long, brown coat on the rack behind the suit, he grabbed that as well with a smile before dashing off to get changed.

It wasn't long before he was standing in front of a mirror, his hands in the pockets of the brown coat as he took in his reflection. Aries' words played back in his mind and a chuckle escaped him at the way she had looked so mortified by her declaration. How he of all people had ended up with a Nesdra, let alone one like her, the Doctor still didn't know. But as he leaned in towards the mirror, running his hand over his newly-regenerated face as he examined it, the Time Lord couldn't help but think he was rather lucky to have one such as Aries.

She was an enigma that he just couldn't work out, and the Doctor loved nothing more than a good puzzle to solve. Though he had realised quite early on that she was always worried for others. Not so much herself, but he had seen it himself just how far she'd go to protect someone. He, the very Doctor who was currently running his tongue over his new teeth as he checked his features from different angles, turning his head one way than another, had been saved by her. And the Doctor held no illusions that Aries didn't know what she'd been doing when she opened the TARDIS' Heart to do just that.

Aries Prince was just far too smart for her own good it seemed.

Even her emotional control, as well as her seemingly unnatural ability to disconnect herself from them was far beyond anything he'd witnessed before in a human. But then Aries wasn't even truly that to begin with. In fact, the Doctor had a feeling that her unnatural ability to emotionally disconnect herself from situations possibly steams from the part of her that was Time Lord.

But even with all the revelations he had had in regards to his Nesdra, there had been nothing he'd noticed before that could explain her unusual abilities.

Well, until now, that was.

Raising his eyebrows, the Doctor sniffed as he finished checking his newest regeneration. Giving his reflection a nod, the Time Lord left the wardrobe and headed back to the library and to where he'd left Aries and Vera.

He had a few questions he wanted the blonde to answer. And as he removed a ice-blue hilted dagger from a pocket from his new coat, he knew that the first was just who and what Vera was. Though as he got closer to the library, the Doctor's steps slowed as the words of a familiar tale reached his ears. He stopped in front of the double doors; surprise written over his face as he realised that he may not need to even ask any questions.

It seemed as though Vera Bourn knew far more than she'd been letting on and as the Doctor listened, he wasn't going to give up the chance to learn more about the woman - as well as the ones who seemed to hold an interest in both Aries and one of the necklaces that lay around her neck. Besides, the library was a communal area on his ship, and as the Doctor pushed open one of the doors, he figured that if Vera really didn't want him to know, she'd have taken Aries somewhere more private to talk.

Time passed as it always would in the Nine Realms, the breath of Mummu spreading far and wide. Civilisations continued to rise and fall. Wars raged and victors were named.

But one day, the unthinkable happened.

Deep within the realms of both Mortals and Magic, two pulses of Magic rippled across the entire Yggdrasil with such an intensity that it was felt by all. Without warning, the Caretakers of Magic and the six Drail imk Rauvec vanished from across the realms and mortals and gods alike waited on bated breath as the Aesir flocked to the source of the magical outbursts. Though what they found was said to have stunned even the All-Father himself.

Where Alivain once sat within the great Yggdrasil's roots was now the headless remains of a Celestial; the planet and its inhabitants nowhere to be found.

For centuries the gods waited for word on the fate of Magic's Caretakes, the mortals of the Nine Realms having allowed them to fall away into nothing but myths and legends as the ages passed. The Aesir knew that without the Caretakers and the connection they shared with Magic and the great World Ash however, Magic was slowly leaving the realms, drawing itself away from the worlds that it had once touched to focus on the Yggdrasil and keeping the cosmos intact.

However, by the time that even the gods themselves had grown tired of the silence that always followed their enquires, chaos had descended upon the Nine Realms. Beings, creatures, spirits, and beast of all kinds that had never been seen before snuck through the cracks and tears in the very fabric of reality as the walls between the multiverse fell. People of all shapes and races, people that should never have met ended up facing each other on the fields of battle, destroying anything from small fields to entire galaxies in their battles.

But not all had forgotten the Caretakers of Magic and Mages of the Void...

Deep within the Realm of Mortals, in the constellation of Kasterborous at the galactic coordinates ten-zero-eleven-zero-zero/zero-two from the Galactic Zero Centre and in the very centre of its galaxy lay the Jewel.

Living upon its surface was a race of beings that hadn't forgotten the caretakers of old. And with the disappearance of the Drailvec imk Rauvec, these people took it upon themselves to keep balance within the cosmos. They built a meta-structure known as the Web of Time and imposed it upon the universe to anchor the threads as Rassilon used the Eye of Harmony as the 'hitching post of chronology'. Before this, time had not been counted in days, months, years. Nor had it been recorded in dates. The people who lived upon the Yggdrasil believing that as long as the sun and moon returned each day and night, they needed no other means to measure time.

But with all progress came power. And with that came war.

Many a war was waged throughout the eons, though there was one that the very person who'd helped bring back Dumuzid's gift of time back to the universe did not want remembered. It was this very 'Walker of the Shadows' and later 'Lord of Time' that had done the unthinkable. Long before the walls of reality had started to crumble, he'd done something he'd rather not let get out and Rassilon would never allow the guilt of responsibility to sway his mind. The knowledge that he alone knew the truth behind the Drailvec imk niar Diath Rauvec sudden disappearance was never to leave his lips.

This Eternal War, otherwise known as the Vampire Wars was a protracted and bloody conflict between a monstrous species known as the Yssgaroth, or the Greater Vampires and the people that would one day be known as Time Lords. This war started long before the installation of the Web of Time, occurring in a period of Gallifreyan history that would almost be equivalent of Midgard's Dark Ages and long before the collapse of reality and the walls between the multiverse falling.

And it all begun because of one man's quest for power.

According to the whispers still around today, since this war was waged before the beginning of written time, the Eternal War begun when Rassilon first opened a black hole, wanting to draw power from the other plains of existence that he'd heard to exist beyond the Void. This black hole reached through the Void and touched upon an inhabited plane where monsters and beasts with great leathery wings and bat-like heads roamed. These Yssgaroth swarmed through the opening Rassilon had unintentionally created for them and descended upon the Mortal Realm. The ferocity and resilience of the Greater Vampires made them difficult opponents for even the best of warriors' the beasts drinking greedily on the blood of angels and feasting on their power.

Realising the severity of his mistake, Rassilon went to the ones he knew could help him. The very Caretakers of Magic and the Mages of the Void. He knew that if there were anyone who could help fix the mistake he had made, it was them. But much to his surprise and anger, the Kreed - a council made up of the six Guardians of Stone and a collective few of Arkentors that were trusted with the secrets of Magic - refused him. The Drail imk niar Ilm-Rauv had seen deep into his soul; the Drail imk niar Ulviir-Rauv had seen deep into his mind, and they all knew instantly the truth of his actions.

But in turning him away, the Arkentor's had also turned their backs on the Time Lords and left them to the mercy of the Yssgaroth. These Greater Vampires slaughtered their way across the Realm of Mortals, cutting down anyone who stood in their way and turning others who would become of use to them.

In the end, it was the Gallifreyan forces led by Kopyion Liall a Mahajetsu, allied with the Qwerm that finally managed to push the Yssgaroth back into their own universe. However the feat took more than a thousand years to accomplish. And it was here at the very end of the Eternal War that something unexpected happen.

It was here when Magic was banished from the Yggdrasil.

And also when Magic returned with a vengeance.