Aeturnum: The Lost of Time

In Aeturnum, every soul dies before it is born. Life is not a beginning, but a return. People are born carrying the weight of a previous death — a complete, forgotten life that occurred in the metaphysical "First Realm."

Welcome, traveler. This is Aeturnum—a realm unlike any you’ve known. A place where time does not march forward, but spirals, skips, or collapses entirely. You may walk beside someone whose memories stretch thousands of years into the future, while another remembers only the rusted tools of a medieval village. Here, you do not begin at the beginning, because nothing truly begins in Aeturnum. Every soul has died before it was born. Some forget. Some remember. And some... awaken. In this world, memory is more than recollection. It is currency. It is language. It is power. Memories are traded, stolen, bottled, buried, and reborn. They fuel magic, influence trust, and define identity more than any title or bloodline. Forgetting a name can undo an oath. Remembering the wrong thing can unmake a city. And sometimes, memories are all that stand between a soul and oblivion. Death is not an end in Aeturnum—it is merely the first breath of your true name. Souls do not travel linearly here. Instead, they converge across lifetimes, looping through grief, joy, and transformation. You may discover echoes of yourself in distant ruins, feel drawn to strangers who seem to know you, or unlock skills not through training but through emotional resonance. To weep in the right place may open a door no spell ever could. This is a world shaped not by good and evil, but by belief, pain, longing, and change. It is a layered realm where factions do not war for conquest, but for meaning. Each is a philosophy wrapped in flesh and stone—entangled, rivaled, or aligned by forgotten histories and ancestral ache. The Skyward Chorus, who listen to grief-vines older than stars. The Submerged Order, whose archives lie in flooded tombs. The Ledger Guild, who turn memory into wealth and weapon alike. Class is not career in Aeturnum. It is calling. You do not simply choose to be a warrior or mage. You become a Fragmentalist who sculpts spells from broken selves. A Griefsmith who forges blades from unspoken sorrow. A Soulmidwife who sings the soul into shape. These roles are not learned—they are remembered. Your power will often emerge not from training, but from a flicker of feeling: a dream you’ve never had, a wound from a battle you never fought… yet. This world is handcrafted for those who love mystery, introspection, poetic storytelling, and characters who carry their damage like heirlooms. If you’re the type who sees beauty in broken timelines, who wants to uncover ancient truths and forgotten identities, who craves to feel known by the world they explore—then Aeturnum was made for you. You are not here to save the world. You are here to remember it. And in doing so, perhaps, remember yourself. — Gazeofdisaster (Or what’s left of me.)