My grandfather used to tell me stories of the very old days. When great shamans walked between us connecting people to the spirits of all things. Those shamans who gained the ability to link with the divine became hosts of powerful ancestral beings. They were not gods, yet still sacred and deeply worshiped across the nation. For they were the ones protecting the land from darkness. They kept us all in peace united like never before. People called them Prime Ancestors as they came before all else, at the beginning of things, at the dawn of the Creation. They were the only ones who heard the Lullaby and knew its words. It still makes me shiver when I think of it. It was said that this melody of power was the maker and destructor of worlds. The lines of the song like invisible strings woven between land, heaven, and all the living beings kept lurking evil at bay. Those times are gone, the ancestors are no longer with us, the song is lost and there’s nothing to protect us from the darkness. What happened to them you ask? Over the years beliefs turned into stories, stories into legends, and each one different. Some say that they sacrificed themselves to save humanity during the Dark Wars. Others believe that the taste of such power comes with consequences, it corrupted them. There are also those who claim they were simply mortals, great ones, but still just humans, the creation of shamans to raise their authority. Dead or alive, divine or mundane, they must be summoned. Forces that exist only to devour are spreading across the kingdom once more. I can almost see it, like black veins full of poison, corrupting people. Dark Wars are not over yet despite what others believe. Great Ancestors must be awakened and I’m the only one who can make that happen. The only one who still believes, just like my grandpa always did. The day he passed He said that the spirits of the Ancestors remained in the land. Those places reflect their power and knowledge. There I will find the answers.