The world had not always been broken. Once, the elements lived in balance, each force guided by those chosen to bear them. Light, Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Nature, Lightning—forces older than memory, held together by trust. Nine elemental masters gathered in the high meeting place, their powers humming softly through stone and sky. Though, the world wasn't only filled with elemental powers. Everyone had their own, but Obsidian was focused on the more 'powerful' ones, which were elements. A small cat sat at the edge of the circle, tail curling tightly around her paws. Hajar’s amber eyes followed every motion, every subtle shimmer of power. Vines shifted beneath one master’s feet, sparks danced harmlessly around another’s whiskers. Everything felt… safe. She leaned closer to her mother. Aasiyah lowered her head, pressing her nose gently to Hajar’s forehead. “Stay close,” she murmured. “And listen.” Hajar nodded, but the warmth of her mother did little to chase the chill she felt when her father’s gaze swept across the sanctum. Obsidian stood apart, flames coiling lazily around his paws, watching with a dangerous calm. He lingered on the masters—their confidence, the effortless control of their power—and beneath it all, a hunger. When his eyes met Hajar’s, a shiver ran through her, the same one she always felt when he looked at her: a mix of fear and something she could not name. It did not happen all at once. After Hajar was born, the world began to feel thinner, more fragile. The wind master faltered mid-summon, brow furrowing. “The air… it resists me,” they muttered. The earth master noticed fractures forming where none should have been. “This land feels wrong.” Aasiyah felt it too, her light flickering when it never had before. That evening, she turned to Obsidian, concern softening her voice. “Something is disturbing the balance. You feel it, don’t you?” Obsidian’s flames flared briefly before settling. “I feel opportunity,” he said, voice smooth, dangerous. Hajar shrank back behind her mother, heart hammering. The heat of his fire pressed into her like a warning, and in the pit of her stomach, she knew the truth: he had always been dangerous, but now, the danger was rising, and she was powerless to stop it. The tension grew, invisible but suffocating. When the masters gathered again beneath the clear sky, the air itself seemed to hum with unease. “There is a fracture forming beyond the borders,” the wind master said. “We must address it together.” “We’ll move as one,” Aasiyah replied. But the light behind them dimmed, shadows stretching unnaturally. Obsidian moved. A surge of fire tore through the sanctum, dark, jagged, alive. Power stolen from the others coiled around him like a living thing, unstable and sharp. “Aasiyah—!” someone shouted, but it was already too late. He struck from behind. Light exploded outward as Aasiyah fell, her glow shattering into frantic shards across the stone. Hajar froze, paws unable to move, heart hammering in a cage of fear. “M-Mama…?” she whispered. Obsidian loomed over her mother, flames pressing into the air like claws. “It should have been mine,” he snarled. “You all held me back.” Aasiyah lifted her head, voice weak but unwavering. “You’re destroying everything… even her.” For a heartbeat, something like doubt passed over Obsidian’s face, and Hajar thought she might be safe. But then he vanished, leaving only heat and silence. Hajar ran. She didn’t remember how she made it to the crystal halls, only that Queen Jade’s fur shimmered like fractured light as Hajar slammed against her chest, sobbing. “He… he hurt her,” she choked. “Obsidian… he stole their power. I saw everything.” Jade’s gaze sharpened. “You’re certain?” Hajar nodded, claws digging into the crystal floor. “He attacked Mama when she wasn’t looking.” Jade closed her eyes, then opened them with the weight of authority. “Call the masters. Now.” They found Obsidian at the edge of the world, fire raging around him like a storm barely contained. “You cannot undo what I’ve become,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You’re afraid of me.” “No,” Jade replied, steady. “I am protecting what remains.” The masters joined their powers—light, wind, earth, water—binding Obsidian in chains of elemental force. With a thunderous crack, the land split open, swallowing him into molten wastes beyond the borders. His laughter echoed, cruel and unbroken. “This isn’t the end,” his voice carried. “It’s only the beginning.” The world sealed behind him, but the damage lingered.
Aasiyah survived, but she was changed. Her light no longer flowed freely; it trembled, faltered, fragile as a candle in the wind. Jade spoke to the masters days later, crystal light flaring from her paws. “This cannot happen again. Power without restraint will destroy us all.” She raised her paw higher. “I will form an organization to watch the fractures, to intervene before balance breaks.” “And who will lead it?” one asked. “I will,” Jade said, unwavering. Thus, the Agency was born. Obsidian did not perish. In the molten wastes, he rose, carving a kingdom from lava and ash. He named it Yōgan, a realm forged in fire, and crowned himself ruler. At his side, Ruby—a ruthless cat with smoky fur and red eyes sharp as blades—whispered, “Let them fear you. Let them regret exiling you.” Obsidian’s flames surged higher, answering her command. Far away, Hajar dreamed of fire, waking in terror, shaking as if the heat itself had followed her. She remembered all too well the flames, the way her father’s power had hurt her, the sting of his claws and the sharp weight of his anger pressing into her, leaving her small and broken. She had seen what fire could do, and she knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that it was not hers to control. But the dreams did not stop. One morning, she woke to shouting. The sanctum was burning. Smoke stung her nose as fire tore through stone and sky, masters fighting desperately—wind screaming against flame, earth rising in jagged shields. And at the center of it all, Obsidian, wreathed in fire, power surging wildly around him, the stolen elements flaring like a storm. “Aasiyah!” someone cried. Hajar saw her mother standing alone, light trembling but unbroken as she faced him. “You don’t have to do this,” Aasiyah said, voice strained but steady. “This ends now.” Obsidian laughed, bitter and low. “It ends when I decide it does.” He struck. Fire collided with light in a violent explosion that shook the sanctum to its core. Aasiyah cried out, pushing back with all her remaining strength to shield the others—shield Hajar. “Mama—!” Hajar screamed, rushing forward. The light burned brighter than ever before, then shattered, throwing her back. She scrambled up, ears ringing, heart pounding. Her mother lay on the stone, light flickering, fragile, but her eyes met Hajar’s, full of love. “You were so brave,” she whispered. Tears blurred Hajar’s vision. “I don’t want to be brave. I want you.” Aasiyah pressed her forehead to Hajar’s. “Live,” she said softly. “And don’t let his fire decide who you become.” Her light faded. And did not return. Hajar screamed as the world broke around her. Obsidian was gone by the time the masters reached them. The marble layed in ruins, and the age of balance ended in ash. (Her backstory is a little severe, so I had to change somethings.) Continued: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1273511736/
