LORE: sylus' myth

this post contains major spoilers for Sylus' myth. If you don't want to be spoiled, maybe come back later ♡

 

THE DRAGON IN THE ABYSS: Sylus’ Myth

Once, Sylus was called Stayrus. A being born of both dragon and fiend blood.

In the world of Philos, dragons were feared above all. A prophecy had foretold that one of their kind would one day bring about Doomsday. Gripped by paranoia, the people of Philos turned on their own winged kin. They hunted the dragons to extinction. Only Stayrus remained.

For that, he was cast into the Abyss. Chained. Forgotten. Sealed away for 1,677 years.

He did not die and he could not die.

This was supposed to be the end of his story: a monster buried beneath the weight of a world’s fear. But fate is twisted and persistent and had other plans.

An orphan raised in a religious cult known as the Sanctuary, is also thrown into the Abyss. Her crime? Possessing a lamp adorned with dragon imagery. To the cult, this was heresy. but it was her only flicker of hope.

Moments from death, suffocating in the dark, Stayrus finds her. Drawn to her dying light. She offers him a deal: her soul in exchange for revenge.

Stayrus accepts.

Her will shatters his chains and together, they rise. Not toward peace, but into something far more dangerous: vengeance.

Their connection is immediate, but not simple.

They are bound by twin prophecies:

: ̗̀➛ Stayrus is fated to kill the one he loves

: ̗̀➛ she is destined to be his archnemesis

 

They were meant to destroy each other.

instead... they fall in love.

They bind their souls—each giving half of themselves to the other. From that moment on, Stayrus is never truly alone. A part of her remains with him—through music, through visions, through every step he takes, even in the modern timeline.

She was also the first to name him.

When they met, he told her his name. The sound of it came from someplace ancient, deeper than language. She attempted to pronounce it: “Stayrus.” But that wasn’t quite right. The syllables felt too heavy in her mouth, like they were shaped wrong for a human throat. Even so, he didn’t correct her. He just listened.

In attempt to say his real name, she started to call him Sylus. Sylus became a name shaped not by prophecy or curse, but by choice—her choice.

It was the first thing he’d ever been freely given. Not taken, not stolen, not imposed. Just… given. And that made it sacred.

But the prophecy still lingers. It grows in his fear: that he will become a monster again. That the curse will take control.

When the cult captures her once more and prepares to kill her, Sylus returns, completely consumed by the curse. His dragon form, unleashed and furious. Everything the prophecy warned of.

But he doesn't kill her.

He kneels.

And he begs her to please end it.

Sylus dies in her arms.

She can’t let go and curses his soul...commanding it to never fade. To live on until she decides to release him.

That’s how Sylus becomes immortal: a broken heart trapped in endless time.

For a time, they found peace. In the ruins of Philos, they built a small sanctuary in a chapel made from ash and grief. There, they learned to love with a sword hanging above them.

This myth changes how we see Sylus. He’s not just a cursed dragon. He’s a boy who never learned how to live. Who only discovered love through the one person he was meant to destroy.

And he didn’t.

Because Sylus was never a monster.

He was just a boy waiting for someone to say his name.