In the shadowy reaches of the world between the Northern and Eastern Kingdoms, where the craggy peaks claw at the heavens, there dwelt a Nephilim named Methariel. As a mystic of the North, gifted with prophetic visions, Methariel foresaw the devastating flood that El Olam would send to cleanse the world of its corruption—a divine reset in response to the chaos sown by Lumasariel and his dark legions. Methariel, unlike many of his kin, did not stand in open rebellion against the decrees of the Supreme Lord, nor did he align with the malevolent Lightbringer. Instead, he tread a solitary path, guided by his visions. As the signs of impending doom grew clearer, he set to work, constructing a vessel capable of withstanding the divine wrath—a sturdy boat hidden in the depths of the mountains where no other being dared to roam. When the heavens finally broke, unleashing torrents that drowned the old world, Methariel sealed himself within his ark. The floodwaters surged over lands and kingdoms, obliterating all traces of the world that once was, sparing only those chosen by El Olam and those few, like Methariel, who had heeded their own forewarnings. After what seemed an eternity, the waters receded. Methariel’s ark came to rest on the slopes of the now-sacred mountains, the boundary line between the transformed Northern and Eastern Kingdoms. Stepping into the new world, Methariel found it a place of raw creation, where humanity—newly crafted from the divine will—began to spread, innocent and unaware of the world before their time. Choosing to remain hidden from both divine entities and dark forces alike, Methariel adopted the guise of a humble hermit. He lived on the fringes of human settlements, his longevity and the light in his eyes the only hints of his true nature. To the men and women he met, he was a sage who appeared in times of need, offering wisdom that seemed ancient yet perennially pertinent. He spoke to them of ways to harmonize with the earth, to respect its cycles and to glean its bounty without greed. He taught them the language of the stars and the secrets of herbs for healing, weaving his teachings with enough myth to inspire but not enough detail to reveal his origins. Always, he maintained the delicate balance of helping humanity grow without steering its destiny. As centuries passed, Methariel’s legend grew, but his true identity remained a carefully guarded secret. Only the most perceptive saw the sorrow behind his serene eyes, a melancholy born of memories from a world lost to time and flood—a world where he had walked among giants and battled against the spawn of darkness. Thus, Methariel continued to live, a bridge between what had been and what was to come, a silent guardian of the past and a gentle shepherd to the future, forever marked by his origins but committed to his self-imposed exile among the children of a new creation.