The Great Betrayal was a saga written in blood, a tale of how Dravion and Vorgath united in a fateful war to break the chains of the Zarathar Empire. Nearly 2,000 years ago, when the skies were still a vibrant blue and the rivers crystal clear, these two kingdoms were at the peak of their friendship. King Luthar Lightbearer of Dravion, with his golden hair and hopeful eyes, stood as a beacon of hope; King Raghon Wolf-Eye of Vorgath, though as hard as iron, was a loyal and steadfast warrior to his comrades. Both were weary of the Empire's tyranny. Zarathar plundered Dravion's treasures, sent Vorgath's warriors to fight its battles, and condemned the people of both kingdoms to hunger and fear. One night, within the Light Tower of Dravion, Luthar and Raghon joined hands. "We will either be free," said Luthar, "or we will die together," Raghon completed. Their plan was set: they would strike at the heart of Zarathar, the Golden City of Zareth.
The war erupted on the ill-fated day known as the "Crimson Dawn." Dravion's golden dragon spread its wings and soared into the sky, its every beat of the wings making the wind sing. Vorgath's wolf packs howled as they charged the walls of Zareth, with thousands of warriors at their side, swinging axes and swords. Dravion's archers, armed with ancient spells learned in the Light Tower, drew their bows; arrows filled the sky like a rain of stars, embedding themselves in the towers of Zarathar. Vorgath's mages summoned the Black Flame; black smoke and fire consumed the walls of Zareth. For the first few hours, the Empire wavered. The Sun Guardians, even in their golden armor, had to retreat before the dual onslaught. Dravion's dragon crushed a tower with a single swipe of its claws; Vorgath's wolves tore into the throats of the guards. Victory was within reach.
But Zarathar's Emperor Elythar the Cruel was not one to sit idly by on his Star Throne. Elythar was the most feared ruler in the realm his face pale, eyes cold as a serpent's, his voice like a whisper of death in the wind. His beard had the red tinge of blood; his crown was carved from the bones of fallen kings. His cruelty was legendary: once, he had burned an entire kingdom alive for refusing to pay tribute, scattering their ashes across the floor of his throne room. Now, seeing Dravion and Vorgath's rebellion, a thin smile curled upon his lips. "Do you dare challenge me?" he murmured, his voice echoing in the room. Then, he struck the armrest of his Star Throne and awakened the "Curse of the Heavens."
The sky darkened instantly. Lightning cracked like the heavens themselves were splitting with fury, striking down on Zareth. Dravion's dragon was struck by a bolt of lightning; its golden scales shattered and it plummeted to the earth, its roar turning into a hollow groan. Vorgath's wolves, driven mad by the curse, turned on each other, tearing apart their own warriors. Dravion's archers dropped their bows, their eyes filled with terror; Vorgath's mages lost control of the Black Flame, and it consumed their own forces. Luthar and Raghon saw their armies descend into chaos, but it was too late to retreat. Elythar rose from his throne, walked to the window, and laughed as he watched the destruction unfold. "You want freedom?" he shouted, his voice drowning out the cries of the battlefield. "Let me show you the price of freedom!"
Seizing the moment of chaos, the Sun Guardians returned, their golden spears cutting down Dravion and Vorgath's soldiers. Luthar knelt beside his dragon, tears falling to the ground; Raghon, with his final breath, was torn apart by one of his own wolves. The two kings were dragged, shackled, into the throne room of Zareth. When Elythar saw them at his feet, he revealed his cruelty in its fullest form. "I will not kill you," he said, his voice thick with sickening satisfaction. "Death would be a mercy. Instead, I will curse your friendship." He raised his hand, and a beam of light shot from the Star Throne, imbuing the souls of the two kings with an ancient curse. "Dravion and Vorgath will never unite again. Your trade, your marriages, your greetings everything is forbidden. You will be enemies for all eternity." Then, he released their chains, but the freedom he granted was a torment in itself.
Elythar's curse drove a permanent wedge between the two kingdoms. Dravion blamed Vorgath: "It is your savagery that caused our defeat!" Vorgath cursed Dravion: "Your weakness brought us to this!" Their friendship shattered, the borders between them were drawn in blood. Zarathar, ever the puppet master, drew power from this animosity; Elythar sat on his throne, watching as the two kingdoms tore each other apart. The Great Betrayal thus became one of the realm's most tragic tales Elythar the Cruel had won not just through war, but by annihilating the very bond of friendship itself.