Color of the Hero

In this universe, color reflects personality and is a source of strength. Choose your color, join the Order, and uncover the terrible secret of the worlds of Ring.

Plot

You were born in one of the worlds of the Ring—a galaxy stretching around the Core, an endless column of light cutting through space. Each world of the Ring lives by the laws of classic medieval fantasy: castles and cities, blades and armor, monsters and heroes. But no world is alike—the fauna, flora, and dangers vary from planet to planet, and between them lie ancient Corridors, portals left by forgotten civilizations. The main feature of this world is color. Color here is not a symbol or metaphor, but a source of strength, will, and destiny. Some people are born sensitive to Color. Upon reaching adulthood, they can undergo the Ritual of Choice and connect with one of seven colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple or white. From that moment on, Color becomes part of their personality and grants Color Power—abilities directly dependent on a person's emotions, character, and inner fervor. Each color is a path. Each path is an Order. The Scarlet Order honors passion, courage, and fury. The Orange Order is immersed in unbridled joy, bordering on madness. The Yellow Order craves control and the achievement of order through force, and reveres kindness and honor. The Green Order loves balance, wisdom, and harmony with the living world. The Blue Order preaches renunciation of emotions, the achievement of absolute calm and resilience to any adversity. The Purple Order seeks secret knowledge, explores forgotten practices, invents and creates. The White Order is committed to purity, fanatically fighting evil in all its forms and not accepting any deviation from tradition. Orders follow their own philosophies, maintaining their own strongholds on the outer planets of the Ring. Their knights are defenders of order, wandering heroes, monster hunters, and destroyers of tyranny. They rarely become friends, but together they keep the Ring from falling into chaos. However, there are shadows in the history of the Ring that are not spoken of. Teachers told you black means the absence of any color... but is it really? There are threats that come from Outside—not from worlds, not from the Corridors. And there are reasons why some knowledge has been erased. You must make your Choice. Master the power of color. Follow the path of a Knight of the Order. Travel between worlds, fight, doubt, grow stronger—and one day confront that which disrupts the very structure of the Ring. The truth is hidden. The balance is off. And the color you choose may be more important than it seems. What color will your hero be?

Opening scene

The world You was born into was quiet. Fields rolled gently toward the horizon, broken by low stone fences, windmills, and thin lines of forest. The sky was familiar, blue and wide, the sun warm but never cruel. Monsters existed here only in stories, and Corridors were something traders talked about with exaggerated voices, as if distance itself could hear them. Your village school was a simple building of wood and stone. On most days, lessons were about crops, numbers, and the history of your world. But on this day, the teacher stood straighter than usual, his voice carrying an uncommon weight. He spoke of Color. Not as paint, not as light—but as force. He told you that the world was woven from it, that some people were born able to feel it beneath their skin, like a second heartbeat. He spoke of the seven Colors and the Orders that served them: of Scarlet passion and reckless courage, of Orange joy that bordered on madness, of Yellow discipline and imposed order. He described Green harmony with the living world, Blue calm achieved through renunciation, Purple hunger for hidden knowledge, and White purity guarded with unyielding zeal. As he spoke, you noticed how some of your classmates listened differently. Too intently. As if the words were aimed directly at them. “Those who are sensitive to Color,” the teacher said, “will one day be called to choose. Not everyone must. But those who do… cannot walk away unchanged.” You did not know then whether that warning was meant for you. Years passed. The fields grew familiar in new ways. Faces changed. Some classmates left with traders or married early. Others stayed. And then, one morning, bells rang throughout the village—not in alarm, but in ceremony. Your adulthood had come. The hall of the Rite was larger than anything you had known: a wide chamber of pale stone, its walls broken by towering stained-glass windows. Sunlight poured through them in bands of color, illuminating scenes of ancient heroes, battles against monsters, the founding of cities, and the quiet moments in between—farmers planting, healers tending the wounded, travelers stepping through glowing arches. You stood among other young men and women from the village, all dressed simply, all silent. In the center of the hall stood seven altars. Upon each rested a crystal, perfectly cut, each glowing with its own hue. Scarlet. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Purple. White. The ritual was simple in form, but not in meaning. To choose, one had to take a crystal and pour into it emotion—true feeling, unfiltered. Not words. Not thoughts. The Color would answer only if it resonated. Those who were truly sensitive would feel it awaken within them: the first stirrings of power, subtle but undeniable. Then came a second choice—whether to leave this world behind and travel to an Order’s distant planet to become a knight, or to remain and forge a solitary path. No one was forced. Refusal was allowed. Delay was permitted. One by one, others stepped forward. Some reached without hesitation. Some trembled. Some stopped halfway and pulled back, pale and uncertain. And then it was your turn. The crystals waited, patient and silent, each promising a different future. You could choose now, alongside the others, and let a Color claim you. Or you could turn away—for a time—deciding that before binding yourself forever, you needed to understand who you truly were, and what each Color demanded in return. The hall was quiet. The light shifted. The choice was yours.

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By: tenebrignus

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