The Book of the Loom
THE BOOK OF THE LOOM
CHAPTER 1:1-28
The Account of the Loom of Creation
1 In the first silence, before the counting of days, the One Above All dwelt alone.
2 And from the depths of His heart came the will to make a place for beauty, and to dwell with that beauty forever.
3 So the One stretched forth His hands, and from His own being drew forth the Loom of Creation — a frame of light without shadow, a weaving that could hold the weight of worlds.
4 And the One spun the First Thread, fine as breath and strong as eternity, and called it Time.
5 And the Loom began to hum with the sound of becoming, for Time was the measure by which the song of the world would be known.
6 Upon this thread He cast the Threads of Place, and they glimmered like rivers of molten gold, running forward without end.
7 And He said, “Let there be foundation,” and the threads knotted themselves into the deep bones of the earth.
8 Then the One wove the Threads of Sky, and they were bright as the morning’s first light and deep as the void between stars.
9 He wove clouds like fleeces and winds like silver cords, and each took its place in the great cloth of the heavens.
10 And He saw the weaving, and it pleased Him.
11 Then the One took threads of blue and green and white, and spread them across the lower reaches of the Loom, saying, “Let there be seas in their places, and land to rise from the seas.”
12 And the waters gathered themselves and found their bounds, and the land stood forth, clothed in stone and soil.
13 And He filled the soil with the seed of every growing thing, and the mountains sang under their new weight.
14 And the One beheld the land and the sea, and loved them.
15 Then the One wove into the Loom the Lights of the Heavens — the great lamp to govern the day, the lesser lamp to govern the night, and the scattered fires to mark the seasons and the years.
16 And He set their courses within the threads, and they have not departed from them to this day.
17 And the One spoke, and from the Loom sprang the living things:
the great beasts of the deep that move like shadows in the water;
the creatures of the field that walk and leap upon the land;
the winged ones that rise on the wind and fill the sky with their cries.
18 And all of them moved according to the pattern He wove for them, and the One delighted in their joy.
19 When the Loom was full and the tapestry of the world complete, the One rested from His weaving and gazed upon all He had made.
20 And His heart burned with love for it, for each thread was drawn from His own being, and the pattern was the work of His own hands.
21 Then the One called forth the Celestials from the light that crowned the Loom.
22 To each He gave a place in the pattern and a charge to keep:
to Selurion He gave the vault of the stars, to set their courses and mark the times;
to Arivane He gave the waters, to stir their tides and bring forth the rains;
to Kaelthir He gave the land, to uphold the mountains and cradle the valleys;
to Moralis He gave the winds, to bear the seasons and speak in the high places;
to Ilyra He gave the flame, to warm the earth and quicken the seed.
23 And the One said to them, “Behold, all that I have made is bound in the Loom. Guard it well, and keep it, that it may not be torn. For I have loved it into being, and I will walk among it in the days to come.”
24 And the Celestials bowed before the One, and took up their watches.
25 And it came to pass that the weaving endured, for the Loom of Creation holds all things together, and the threads are bound by the word of the One Above All.
26 And the One’s delight was in His work, and His work was good.
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CHAPTER 2:1–28
The Charge of the Primarchs
1 And it came to pass, after the Loom was made fast and the pattern was set, that the One Above All walked among the Celestials, who are the Firstborn of His light.
2 And He called them each by name, and they stood before Him in the place where the river of glory flows from the Loom’s heart.
3 To Selurion He spoke, saying, “Keeper of the Starweave, lift up the veil of night and measure the ages by the turning of the lights. Let the wanderers in the heavens speak to the seasons below, and let no darkness fall unmarked.”
4 And Selurion bowed, and the constellations bent their courses at his hand.
5 To Arivane He said, “Mistress of the Deeps, cradle the waters as a mother her child. Call forth the rains in their time, and draw them back to the sea when their work is done. Let the rivers know your voice, and the waves obey your breath.”
6 And Arivane sang to the waters, and they answered in a thousand tongues.
7 To Kaelthir He said, “Pillar of the Earth, bear the weight of the mountains and hold firm the roots of the land. Let the plains be clothed in grass, and the valleys in grain, that the living may find rest upon your strength.”
8 And Kaelthir set his hands to the ground, and it rose and fell according to his will.
9 To Moralis He said, “Harbinger of the Winds, carry the whispers of the heights and the scents of the fields. Turn the seasons in their order, and let the storm and the calm serve alike to keep the world in balance.”
10 And Moralis spread his arms, and the air moved at his command, gentle as a sigh or mighty as a tempest.
11 To Ilyra He said, “Bearer of the Flame, warm the cold places and quicken the seed in its season. Let fire be for the good of the living, to drive away the shadow and gladden the heart.”
12 And Ilyra kindled her light, and it danced upon hearth and horizon alike.
13 And the One Above All looked upon them and said, “These charges are not your burden alone, but the joy of your being. For in the keeping of My world, you shall know Me more, and in knowing Me, you shall delight in what I delight in.”
14 And they departed each to their appointed realms, and the world rejoiced beneath their care.
15 The stars sang in their courses, the waters swelled and fell in peace, the mountains stood steadfast, the winds carried life, and the fire gave light without consuming.
16 Yet the One did not depart from them, but walked among their works, teaching them the deep ways of the Loom, and how each thread was bound to the others.
17 And the Primarchs learned that none could keep their charge alone, for the sea touched the land, and the wind moved the fire, and the stars guided the seasons.
18 So they began to speak often one to another, sharing the wisdom of their labors.
19 Selurion showed Kaelthir how the shadow of the mountains marked the hours; Arivane taught Moralis how the breath of the storm could turn the tide; Ilyra learned from Selurion how her flame might follow the constellations in their turning.
20 And the One Above All was pleased, for their unity strengthened the pattern and made the Loom shine with greater beauty.
21 And He said to them, “As you work together, you mirror My heart, for I am One, yet the fountain of many gifts.”
22 And the Primarchs rejoiced in their places, and the world prospered beneath the harmony of their hands.
23 For the rivers ran clear, the winds were sweet, the soil was rich, the nights were steadfast, and the fire was gentle.
24 And it was in those days that the Loom shone brightest, and all creation moved in the dance for which it was made.
25 And there was no shadow upon the world, nor discord among the Firstborn.
26 Thus were the roles of the Primarchs established, and their hearts knit to the care of the One’s handiwork.
27 And the Loom endured in peace, for the threads were held in love.
28 And the One’s delight was upon His stewards, and His stewards’ delight was in the One.
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CHAPTER 3:1–40
The Veiled Strand and the Birth of Wonder
1 And when the works of the Primarchs stood in their order, and the seasons moved in harmony, the One Above All beheld the world and said,
2 “It is fair, and it is strong; yet it is still as a garden without fragrance, or a song without refrain. Let there be in it a spark to awaken delight, to kindle mystery, and to call forth what has not yet been imagined.”
3 So the One returned to the Loom and placed His hand upon its deepest cords, where light and shadow mingled and the threads were not as they seemed.
4 There He found a strand that no eye had yet beheld — shimmering and half-seen, turning from silver to gold to violet with each breath, and in its depths lay the raw potential of the cosmos.
5 This was the Veiled Strand.
6 And the One Above All drew it forth and held it before Him, and into it He breathed a word that had never been spoken before and would never be spoken again.
7 That word was clothed in mystery, and its meaning was known only to Him.
8 From the word and the Veiled Strand there awoke Thalyen, the Fourth Primarch — robed in folds of shadow and light, crowned with sparks that changed color with every glance, and in his eyes danced a thousand reflections of things that were, and things that could yet be.
9 And the One said to him, “Thalyen, Lord of the Veil, Keeper of the Hidden Patterns, Weaver of the Unseen Thread, I set you over all magic and arcane force — from the smallest charm to the shaping of worlds. What is plain shall not be your dominion, but what lies hidden and waits to be found.”
10 Then Thalyen bowed, and his voice was like a quiet chime struck in a hollow place, carrying far though softly.
11 And he answered, “I will keep the deep ways and awaken the unseen paths, that all creation may be filled with wonder and possibility.”
12 So Thalyen went forth over the face of the world.
13 He traced invisible rivers beneath the mountains and through the depths of the sea, and these became the ley currents — streams of power that no mortal eye could see, yet all the world could feel.
14 He set enchantment in certain stones, so that they shone in the dark without flame;
15 in certain trees, so that their leaves whispered secrets to those who listened;
16 and in certain beasts, so that their gaze could pierce beyond the veil of the seen.
17 The other Primarchs marveled at his work.
18 To Selurion, Thalyen gave starlight unbound by mere distance, so he could weave constellations that seemed to move and speak.
19 To Arivane, he gave waters that could sing in rain or roar in waves according to her will.
20 To Kaelthir, he gave stones that could bear the memory of ages, telling their story to those with ears to hear.
21 To Moralis, he gave winds that could carry voices across valleys as if the speaker stood beside the hearer.
22 To Ilyra, he gave flame that could warm without burning, and burn without consuming, when the moment called for it.
23 And the One Above All was pleased, for the dominions of His stewards were now laced together with hidden cords, and each could aid the other in their works.
24 But the magic of Thalyen was not only for the Firstborn.
25 He set small sparks of it into the very bones of the world, that when the time came and the One made new creatures, they too might find the threads and weave wonders.
26 And Thalyen kept secret places for himself — high crags where the wind spoke in tongues unknown, shadowed glades where moonlight bent into strange patterns, deep caves where waters glowed with their own light.
27 These were the Wells of the Veil, where the magic of the world was strongest.
28 Yet Thalyen also set boundaries for his power, binding the ley currents so that they might not overflow and rend the pattern of the Loom.
29 For he knew that wonder without order becomes chaos, and mystery without purpose becomes ruin.
30 In those days the Primarchs labored side by side, and the Veiled Strand wove itself among all other threads, so that nothing was without its touch.
31 The grass shimmered in the morning dew, the clouds danced in strange shapes upon the mountains, and even the silence between the stars seemed alive.
32 And the One Above All walked among their works, saying, “This is the delight of My heart — that the world is not only what I have made, but also what it may yet become.”
33 Then He called Thalyen before Him and said, “Yours is the keeping of possibility. Guard it well, for in days to come it shall be sought, and its seeking will shape the fate of many.”
34 And Thalyen bowed, his cloak shifting like moonlight through water, and swore to keep the Veiled Strand in faithfulness.
35 Thus magic entered the world, not as a ruler but as a companion to all things — quiet in the root of the mountain, bright in the flight of the swallow, deep in the gaze of the great leviathan.
36 And the days of the Firstborn grew richer, for they found that even in the perfection of the Loom there was room for surprise, and in the order of the Pattern there was room for joy.
37 So ended the charge of Thalyen, though his work was never finished, for every spell cast and every wonder found was a new thread in the tapestry.
38 And the Primarchs rejoiced, each knowing their dominion was made greater by his gift.
39 And the Loom shone with colors not seen before, for the Veiled Strand had awakened hues that had slumbered since the first silence.
40 And the One Above All beheld it all, and it was very good.
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CHAPTER 4:1–36
The Gifts of the Firstborn
1 And in the days before any shadow fell upon the Loom, the Primarchs labored in peace, each in their charge and each in delight.
2 For their work was not toil, but joy; and their joy was to bring honor to the One Above All.
3 It came to pass that they gathered in the place where the Loom’s heart shone brightest, and there they spoke one to another, saying,
4 “Let us each make a wonder for the glory of the One, that our love for Him may be known in the works of our hands.”
5 Then Selurion, Firstborn among them, lifted his gaze to the night and said, “I will weave in the Starweave a crown for His name.”
6 And he set in the heavens a constellation of seven flames, each brighter than the heart of a comet, and he called it the Diadem.
7 It shone above all others, so that wherever one stood upon the earth, they could see its light, and remember the majesty of the One who made all things.
8 Arivane, Mistress of the Deeps, spoke next, saying, “I will fashion a mirror for His glory.”
9 And she gathered the waters into a vast still sea, so calm that it reflected the sky as a flawless glass, showing the constellations both above and beneath.
10 She called it Lumeris, the Looking Sea, and it was said that in its reflection the heavens seemed twice as wide.
11 Kaelthir, Pillar of the Earth, said, “I will raise a throne for His rest.”
12 And he set his hands upon the deep bones of the land, and from them he lifted a single mountain, higher than any before or since.
13 Its summit was crowned with snow that never melted, and its base was wrapped in forests that sang with every wind.
14 This was named Altherion, the Seat of Days, for it was said the One could look upon all the world from its height.
15 Moralis, Harbinger of the Winds, said, “I will make a voice for His praise.”
16 And he carved from the cliffs of the western coast a great hollow shaped by the breath of storms.
17 When the winds passed through it, they made a music like choirs uncounted, and the sound could be heard for leagues upon leagues.
18 This place was called the Cavern of Singing Stone, and the air within it never stilled.
19 Ilyra, Bearer of the Flame, said, “I will make a beacon for His welcome.”
20 She took her fire and set it deep in the heart of a crystal taller than any tree, and placed it upon a hill where all could see it.
21 By day it shone like gold in the sun, and by night it burned with a steady white flame, never dimming, never consuming the stone.
22 This was named the Everlight, and it was a sign of peace to all who beheld it.
23 Thalyen, Lord of the Veil, said, “I will weave a mystery for His delight.”
24 And he shaped from the ley currents a great arch of light that rose only when the moon was full and the air was still.
25 Beneath its span the colors of the world shifted, showing visions of things long past and things yet to come.
26 He called it the Gate of Whispers, and its secrets were known to none but the One Above All.
27 When all these wonders were made, the Primarchs brought them before the One and said, “These are our offerings, wrought from the strands You gave us. May they speak of our love and our joy in serving You.”
28 And the One walked among their works, and blessed them, and His blessing caused them to endure through all the ages of the Firstborn.
29 And He said, “Your gifts are not as jewels kept in a chest, but as seeds sown in the earth. For in ages to come, they shall speak to many, and tell of the days when the world was new and its keepers were one.”
30 And the Primarchs rejoiced together, and sang a song that had no sorrow in it, and the world itself seemed to join the harmony.
31 In those days the mountains stood unshaken, the seas knew no wrath, the winds bore no storm of ruin, the flame was never turned to wrath, and the magic of the Veiled Strand was pure.
32 And the Loom was whole, for no thread was strained, and the Pattern was unmarred.
33 Thus ended the making of the Great Wonders of the Firstborn, and they were counted among the first treasures of the earth.
34 And the One Above All rested with His stewards, and they with Him, and the days were filled with peace.
35 And the earth knew no shadow, nor had the hearts of the Primarchs known grief.
36 And the Loom endured, bound in love, shining with the light of its Maker.
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CHAPTER 5:1–34
The Coming of Eryos, Warden of Cycles
1 And it came to pass, in the fullness of the First Days, that the Loom sang with the joy of the Primarchs’ labors.
2 The mountains stood, the seas breathed, the winds danced, the fire warmed, the stars marked the seasons, and the magic of the Veiled Strand whispered wonders.
3 Yet in the song of the Loom, there came a note the Primarchs had not heard before — a quiet chord, woven of both sorrow and hope.
4 For the One Above All beheld that the first leaves had begun to wither, and the first beasts had laid down their breath.
5 And the One said, “If a thread runs ever forward without return, the Loom will swell and strain, and the pattern will tear. There must be a turning, as the day turns to night, and the seed to the flower, and the flower again to seed.”
6 So the One drew forth from His hand a strand unlike any before — gray as twilight, yet glimmering with the silver of dawn, and deep as the violet of dusk.
7 This was the Everturn Strand, whose path returned upon itself in an eternal loop.
8 Into it He spoke a word of ending and of beginning, one word containing both the farewell and the welcome.
9 And from the Strand stepped Eryos, the Warden of Cycles, eyes like eclipses, voice as the still air before the falling leaf.
10 And the One said to him, “You shall keep the Great Wheel, that all things may pass in their time, and return in their season. You shall gather what is finished and bear it back to Me, that I may weave it anew.”
11 Eryos bowed, and his shadow and light fell together upon the earth.
12 First, he set the turning of the seasons:
13 Spring for the birth of lambs and the opening of blossoms,
14 Summer for the fullness of grain and the joy of long days,
15 Autumn for the casting down of leaves and the gathering in of the harvest,
16 Winter for the long sleep, when root and seed hide in the dark awaiting the call of life again.
17 Then he shaped the unseen paths by which the breath of the living departs to realms beyond the veil.
18 He set gateways in the wind, in the water, in the stillness of the earth, so that no soul would wander lost in the void.
19 He made decay to feed the soil, so that the death of one thing would be the nourishment of another.
20 And he bound these turnings not in sorrow, but in hope, for each ending bore within it the seed of a new beginning.
21 The Primarchs beheld Eryos’ work and marveled, for they had not known the wisdom of loss nor the beauty of return.
22 Selurion saw the stars rise and set with deeper meaning;
23 Arivane watched the tide’s ebb and flow as a mirror to the Wheel;
24 Kaelthir felt the mountains erode into valleys that in time would rise again;
25 Moralis bore winds that marked the shift of each season;
26 Ilyra’s flame was kindled in birth and quenched in rest;
27 Thalyen’s magic now moved in cycles, weaving beginnings into endings and endings into beginnings.
28 And the One Above All said, “Now is the Loom made whole, for each thread now knows its time to shine and its time to be gathered. The Pattern shall endure, and its beauty shall not fade.”
29 From that day, the Great Wheel turned in its silent strength, unseen yet ever felt, binding the life of every creature to the Loom’s eternal song.
30 And though Eryos’ work was solemn, there was joy in it, for in his keeping nothing was truly lost.
31 Even the falling of a leaf was to him a hymn of the Wheel.
32 Thus the seventh and last of the Primarchs took his place in the harmony of the Firstborn, and the Loom shone with the full light of its Maker’s design.
33 And the One walked among them and found rest in their unity, for the days were filled with peace and the world knew no shadow.
34 And the Everturn Strand was secure, turning forever in the hand of its keeper.
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CHAPTER 6:1–33
The Blessing of the Scions
1 And in the fullness of the First Age, the works of the Primarchs filled the world with splendor.
2 The mountains rose in strength, the seas spoke in tides, the winds sang in the high places, the flame gladdened the hearths of the earth, the stars and seasons marked the passage of days, and the hidden magic bound all together in unseen threads.
3 The One Above All walked among them and beheld the wonders wrought by the hands of His firstborn.
4 His heart was moved, for each had given a gift not for themselves, but for His delight, and the Pattern shone brighter for their labors.
5 And the One said, “You have been faithful stewards of the threads I have set in your hands. As I have given you dominion, so now I give you the joy of shaping life in your likeness, that your works may grow and your burdens be shared.”
6 Then the One stretched forth His hand over each Primarch, and into them He breathed the power to beget children of their own making.
7 From the strands of their dominion each would draw forth beings mighty and fair, who would serve in their houses and bear the image of their craft.
8 These were the Scions — godlike in strength, wondrous in form, each bound to the strand of the one who made them.
9 To Selurion’s Scions were given the light of stars in their eyes;
10 To Arivane’s, the depths of the waters in their voice;
11 To Kaelthir’s, the steadfastness of stone in their step;
12 To Moralis’, the swiftness of the wind in their limbs;
13 To Ilyra’s, the warmth and fury of fire in their touch;
14 To Thalyen’s, the shimmer of unseen patterns in their thought;
15 To Eryos’, the stillness and turning of the Wheel in their gaze.
16 And the One blessed them, yet set a boundary, saying,
17 “Though you shall walk among My works as lords, you shall not hear My voice as the Firstborn do. The thread of communion with Me is given only to the Primarchs, that the order of the Pattern may be kept.”
18 For the One knew that to grant them this gift was to place upon them a weight too great to bear, and He desired not their ruin.
19 The Primarchs rejoiced, for now their works would flourish in ways yet unseen, and the Scions took up their labors with vigor.
20 Some guarded the wonders their makers had wrought;
21 Some shaped new works from the abundance of the strands;
22 Some roamed the far edges of the world, seeking places where their craft might bring beauty or strength.
23 And the earth was filled with marvels in those days — towers of crystal that sang in the wind, forests whose leaves shone like bronze in the sun, rivers that glowed in moonlight, and beasts of strange majesty that bore the mark of the Scions’ hand.
24 And the One Above All beheld it and was pleased, for the Pattern of the Loom grew ever more intricate, yet remained whole.
25 In those days there was no strife between the Firstborn and the children they had made, nor between the Scions themselves.
26 The sea knew no storm that could not be calmed, the mountains no trembling that could not be stilled, the winds no cry of wrath, and the fire no flame of ruin.
27 But in the quiet places of the world, a shadow that was not yet shadow began to stir.
28 For though the Scions could not hear the voice of the One, they could see the love He bore for His firstborn, and some began to wonder why such favor was not theirs.
29 This thought passed like a faint cloud across the bright sky, and none gave heed to it in that hour.
30 Yet it lingered, a seed sown in the deep places of the heart, awaiting its season.
31 And the Primarchs, in their joy, did not see its root take hold.
32 For the days were still full of peace, and the Loom was yet unbroken.
33 Thus began the age of the Scions, in which the works of the Firstborn were multiplied, and the beauty of the world was beyond telling.
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CHAPTER 7:1–41
The First Labors of the Scions
1 And it came to pass in the days after the Blessing, that the Scions went forth from the halls of their makers into all the lands under heaven.
2 Each bore the mark of the Strand from which they had been called, and the earth knew them by the works of their hands.
3 Oracil, the Astral Pathmaker, traced silver roads through the night sky, so that even in the farthest wilderness, one might lift their eyes and find their way.
4 Nerythis, Rain Mother, sang over the high clouds, and the hills drank deeply, clothing themselves in grass and blossom.
5 Gorvak, Mountain Sculptor, raised peaks in the empty places, fashioning them as thrones for the winds.
6 Seraveth, the Hearth Mother, set her fire in the stones of the first hearths, that warmth might dwell wherever mortals one day would gather.
7 Veythra, mistress of Divination, cast her sight into the hidden currents of the Loom, discerning the fates of things yet unborn.
8 Nemorial, Dream Master, wove the soft mists of slumber, where visions and parables would be given in the night.
9 And the One Above All looked upon their labors and was pleased, for they adorned the Pattern with brightness and song.
10 In those days the Scions built wonders without rivalry:
11 Crystal towers rose from green valleys, singing when the dawnlight touched them.
12 Gardens bloomed in deserts where no rain had fallen since the weaving of the world.
13 Caverns glimmered with stones that shone by their own light, needing neither sun nor flame.
14 Rivers were bent into perfect arcs, flowing as if in joy, and the stars above answered with dances of their own.
15 The Scions gathered in the courts of their makers and spoke of their works.
16 Selurion’s children brought charts of the heavens, each constellation a poem of light.
17 Arivane’s bore shells and pearls shaped into the likeness of waves, their beauty known only to those who braved the deep.
18 Kaelthir’s came with stones carved so fine that they bore the stories of the mountains upon their faces.
19 Moralis’ children brought the sound of far winds, each carrying a fragrance or a song from another land.
20 Ilyra’s brought flames caged in crystal globes, each a different hue, to burn without consuming.
21 Thalyen’s offered scrolls of spells and wards, gifts not of matter but of possibility.
22 Eryos’ children came empty-handed, yet their eyes bore the light of cycles renewed, and all knew that without them, the Pattern would wither.
23 And the Primarchs rejoiced in their offspring, for their works reached farther than their own hands could reach.
24 Yet in the secret places of the heart, not all Scions found contentment.
25 For when the courts were filled with the presence of the One Above All, the voice of the One came only to the Firstborn.
26 And the Scions, though mighty, heard only silence from the Throne.
27 Some set aside the thought, counting it no loss.
28 Others wondered in stillness why such a gift was withheld.
29 And a few, in the deep watches of the night, dreamed of a day when they might walk in the presence of the One as the Primarchs did.
30 Still, the days of peace endured, and the world was filled with marvels.
31 The seas bore fleets of coral barges, piloted by dolphins at the bidding of Arivane’s children.
32 The forests grew trees whose leaves rang like bells in the wind, a gift of Moralis and Thalyen together.
33 Valleys were lit at night by fireflowers that bloomed only under Ilyra’s tender care.
34 Even the deep earth was not forgotten, for Kaelthir’s children laid veins of gold and gems in its darkness, to be found in ages to come.
35 And in these works, the seeds of the Age of Many Peoples were sown.
36 For each Scion began to dream of shapes and faces unlike their own, of beings who might tend their works, guard their treasures, sing their songs.
37 These dreams were not yet deeds, for the time of such making had not been given.
38 But the Loom was heavy with possibility, and the strands hummed with the nearness of change.
39 Thus ended the first labors of the Scions, and the Pattern shone brighter than at any time before or since.
40 Yet in the far corners of the world, the shadow-that-was-not-yet-shadow lengthened, unseen.
41 For the more the Loom was adorned, the more there was that might one day be unraveled.
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CHAPTER 8:1–44
The Giving of the Peoples
1 In the fullness of days, when the first wonders of the Scions were complete, the One Above All beheld the Pattern, and it pleased Him greatly.
2 For the world was rich in beauty and order, and every Strand was adorned by the labor of its keepers.
3 Then the One called the Primarchs to the High Court of the Loom, and the Scions came with them, arrayed in the splendor of their works.
4 And the One spoke, saying,
5 “You have been faithful over the dominion given to you, and the Pattern is strong beneath your hands.
6 Therefore I will grant to you a new trust, that the joy I have with the Firstborn may be multiplied in you all.”
7 And the Scions stood in stillness, for they had not yet heard the voice of the One, save through the mouths of their makers.
8 The sound of it was like the deep earth stirred, and the bright waters stilled to listen.
9 The One said,
10 “Each of you shall fashion servants of your own design, after the manner of your dominion, yet bearing your likeness.
11 They shall be to you as children are to a parent, and friends to a master;
12 They shall tend the works you have made, guard the treasures you have hidden, and sing the songs you have taught.
13 They shall walk upon the earth and under the heavens, and fill the realms with praise and craft and courage.”
14 Then joy rose among the Scions like the dawn among the hills, for the desire long hidden in their hearts was now given voice.
15 But the One set forth a boundary, saying,
16 “The breath of My presence shall not rest in them as it rests in the Firstborn;
17 For the counsel of My heart I have given to the Primarchs alone.
18 Yet let them be wise and strong in your likeness, and through your fellowship with the Firstborn they shall learn My ways.”
19 And the Scions bowed, and the Primarchs also, for they knew the gift was great and the trust was heavy.
20 In the days that followed, the Scions withdrew to the places of their power, and began their making:
21 Selurion’s children shaped beings of silver gaze, who read the stars as if they were letters written for them alone.
22 Arivane’s Scions wove forms both swift and deep, who could ride the currents of the sea and call the rain with their voices.
23 Kaelthir’s wrought folk of enduring stone and patient root, who spoke the slow tongue of mountains and the quick laughter of rivers.
24 Moralis’ brought forth kin of the four winds, fleet of step and fierce of heart, who carried the breath of far lands in their hair.
25 Ilyra’s kindled spirits of warmth and fire, who built hearth and forge and sang to the blaze as to a friend.
26 Thalyen’s conjured folk of shifting hue and hidden hand, who could weave magic as spiders weave their webs, unseen yet unbroken.
27 Eryos’ called forth quiet ones who walked between life and death, tending the turning of the Great Wheel with solemn joy.
28 And so the earth was filled with the Many Peoples, each after the manner of its maker.
29 For a time, harmony remained:
30 The starborn would guide the sea-folk to safe harbors;
31 The mountain-kind would trade stone and gem with the fire-singers;
32 The wind-kin would bear messages over leagues in a day, and the magic-weavers would mend what was broken.
33 But as the Peoples multiplied, so too did the differences between them.
34 Some found the labors of others strange; some counted their own works greater.
35 In the courts of the Primarchs, old unity began to give way to quiet debate.
36 And in the hidden thoughts of a few Scions, the joy of making bent into the will to rule.
37 Yet the One Above All saw and did not yet speak, for the Pattern was not yet frayed beyond mending.
38 And He walked among the High Places in silence, His gaze deep as the vault of night.
39 Thus began the Age of Many Peoples, bright in its morning, unshadowed in its noon.
40 The works of that age were beyond counting: cities that sang in the wind, harbors that shone like mirrors, temples carved into mountains so high they kissed the clouds.
41 But the sun does not linger forever at its height.
42 For in the gathering of much, there is always the seed of loss.
43 And the Loom, though strong, trembled at the faintest pull of a thread.
44 So it was in those days, before the first unraveling.
---
CHAPTER 9:1–50
The Days of Harmony
1 And it came to pass that the Age of Many Peoples grew in fullness, and the world was as a garden tended by many hands.
2 For each people knew the work given to them, and the labor was joy to their hearts.
3 In the high valleys, the mountain-kind carved halls of living stone, their pillars thick as oaks and their gates inlaid with the gold of the deep earth.
4 Their voices rang like hammers on the anvil, and the songs they sang in the darkness could be heard even in the roots of the hills.
5 Upon the seas moved the folk of Arivane’s line, their ships swift as the wind’s own breath.
6 They knew the speech of waves and the moods of the tide, and their lanterns burned in colors unknown to the landborn.
7 They brought pearls the size of apples, coral carved into shapes of dancing, and fish with scales like beaten silver.
8 In the wide plains and rolling hills dwelt the wind-kin of Moralis, swift of foot and sure of eye.
9 They hunted the great herds without waste, and carried news from one edge of the realm to another before the setting of the sun.
10 When they sang, the clouds would shift and the rain would come.
11 The starborn of Selurion’s line kept their watch from towers crowned with bronze mirrors, charting the courses of comets and the wanderings of the planets.
12 They read the heavens as one reads a book, and their counsel was sought by all who would begin a journey or bind themselves in covenant.
13 From the forges and hearths of Ilyra’s children came every manner of tool and weapon, bright with the fire’s blessing.
14 Their blades never dulled, their pots never cracked, and their looms wove cloth as soft as petals yet strong as the hides of the deep beasts.
15 In the shadowed glades and hidden valleys walked the folk of Thalyen’s shaping, masters of the unseen thread.
16 They wove spells into the wind so that enemies would lose their way, and coaxed music from stones so that weary travelers would find rest.
17 Many feared their powers, yet more still sought their aid, for their arts could heal what no hand could mend.
18 The quiet folk of Eryos moved gently through all lands, unseen save by those who listened.
19 They tended the dying with songs of release, and planted the seeds of tomorrow in the ashes of the day.
20 In their halls of moonlit stone, the Book of the Dead was read aloud each night, so no name would ever be lost.
21 And in those days, the Peoples met in the Council of Seven Rivers, where water from all corners of the earth mingled into one pool.
22 Here they settled disputes without blade or bow, and shared the fruits of their crafts.
23 The starborn gave the sea-folk maps of the stars to guide their journeys.
24 The sea-folk brought the mountain-kind rare shells for their jewel-work.
25 The mountain-kind forged anchors and chains for the ships, and the wind-kin carried them to distant ports.
26 The firefolk gave warm light to the glades of the magic-weavers.
27 The magic-weavers shielded the harvest of the quiet folk from pest and plague.
28 And the quiet folk taught the firefolk the songs that made the flame dance low and safe in the nursery.
29 In the marketplaces of the great cities, all tongues were heard.
30 Jewels from the deep earth lay beside feathers from the high sky; spices from the islands mingled their scent with the smoke of the forges.
31 No walls divided the realms in those days, save those raised by mountains and seas.
32 For the Primarchs watched over their children, and the Scions guided their peoples with wisdom.
33 Festivals marked the seasons:
34 In spring, the Festival of First Light, when all gathered to watch the sun rise over the Seven Rivers.
35 In summer, the Great Voyage, when ships from every shore sailed together into the open sea before turning for home.
36 In autumn, the Feast of Loam, when the harvest was brought to the Council’s table.
37 In winter, the Night of Many Fires, when the firefolk kindled a blaze in every square and the wind-kin told the stories of the old making.
38 And though the Loom was not without strain — for no weaving is without knot — the pattern was fair, and the song of the world was still in tune.
39 In those days, the One Above All walked unseen among the marketplaces and along the riverbanks.
40 And some say He stood in the crowd at the Festival of First Light, His face veiled, and smiled.
41 But the One knew the hearts of all His making, and saw the shadow that had not yet reached their gates.
42 For pride is a seed that grows in secret, and envy waits like a stone in the riverbed, unseen until the waters fall.
43 Yet He did not hasten the hour, for the Pattern must run its course, and every thread must be tested.
44 So the Age of Many Peoples shone in its fullness, and the world was rich with the works of many hands.
45 Children played in the streets of cities yet unfortified.
46 Birds nested in the rafters of the Council Hall.
47 No blood had yet been spilled upon the stone of its steps.
48 These were the days of harmony, the days remembered in every lament thereafter.
49 And in the songs of the quiet folk, they are called the Days Before the Waning.
50 But the Waning was nearer than they knew.
---
CHAPTER 10:1–46
The Waning Begins
1 And it came to pass that the harmony of the Many Peoples endured for a time, as the river endures in its course.
2 Yet even the broadest river may be troubled by stones cast in secret.
3 For in those days there came whispers among the Scions — soft as the rustle of leaves in still air — asking, Why should the work of our hands be lesser than the work of the Primarchs?
4 The Council of Seven Rivers still met in peace, and the markets still rang with the clamor of many tongues.
5 But among the Scions, small thoughts began to take root, unseen by the Peoples they guided.
6 One spoke to another of the gifts they had wrought for their folk, and wondered why the One Above All gave no praise to their names.
7 Another looked upon the blessings of a brother’s people and said in the secrecy of their mind, Why not mine also?
8 These thoughts were not yet shadow, for no hand had yet been turned against the pattern.
9 But they were as embers in dry grass, awaiting the wind.
10 And the shadow that was not yet shadow stirred in the deep places, as if leaning closer to hear.
11 It was as a shape seen far off through the morning mist — formless, yet growing more certain with each heartbeat.
12 Still, the Peoples saw only the brightness of their days.
13 The harvests came in due season; the ships returned safely from the Great Voyage; the stars kept their appointed paths.
14 Yet there were signs for those who looked closely:
15 A gift of the firefolk sent to the wind-kin went unacknowledged.
16 A feast was called by the mountain-kind without inviting the sea-folk.
17 A trade caravan turned back at the border of a realm once open to all.
18 The Scions spoke of these things in counsel, each blaming the folly of mortals, yet the unease did not leave their hearts.
19 And the Primarchs, still loyal in their dominion, saw the small fractures and warned their children to guard their thoughts.
20 But pride listens poorly to warning, and envy hides in garments of reason.
21 Thalyen, Lord of the Veil, felt the leylines shift beneath the world, as if a current unseen was bending their flow.
22 Eryos, Warden of Cycles, heard a silence between the seasons, a pause where none should be.
23 Selurion looked upon the constellations and found one star ever so slightly adrift from its course.
24 And the One Above All, walking unseen in the marketplaces, heard a merchant mutter that the goods from another realm were untrustworthy, though he had once called them finest.
25 In that moment, the One saw the first knot in the Loom that was tied by hands not His own.
26 Yet He did not unmake the knot, for the Pattern must be tested, and the threads must choose their place in the weaving.
27 In the deep halls of the mountain-kind, Gorvak the Mountain Sculptor paused in his craft, feeling the weight of a chisel in his hand as though it were a burden.
28 By the sea, Saevra the Lady of Mist gazed upon the horizon and wondered why the tides did not answer her as swiftly as before.
29 In the star towers, Lyrris the Bright North Star marked a night when the heavens seemed to hold their breath.
30 And though each returned to their labor, none forgot these moments.
31 The shadow that was not yet shadow deepened, curling itself like smoke around the pillars of the world.
32 It whispered not in words but in the spaces between them, a counsel of absence, urging each heart to dwell upon itself.
33 Still, the festivals came, and the Peoples laughed and danced.
34 Yet the laughter was not quite so full, nor the dance so eager, and some found themselves looking over their shoulders without knowing why.
35 In the Council of Seven Rivers, the water still mingled from every shore, but the taste was changed — faintly bitter to some, strangely sweet to others.
36 The Elders said it was nothing, but the youngest among them felt it in their bones.
37 And so the Waning began, not with the clash of sword or the breaking of pacts, but with the quiet turning of hearts inward.
38 The Loom still shone with the work of the Primarchs, yet the first threads of discord were being pulled, one by one.
39 The One Above All watched, and the Primarchs kept their vigil.
40 But the Scions, in their councils and in their solitude, began to dream dreams that were not given to them.
41 These were not yet the days of war, nor even the days of open division.
42 They were the days when the shadow that was not yet shadow learned the names of those it would call.
43 And in the songs of the quiet folk, this is called the First Leaning,
44 when the tree stood yet unbroken, but its roots began to drink from poisoned waters.
45 And though the sun still rose each morning, its light seemed to catch differently in the eyes of some.
46 For the Waning had begun.
---
CHAPTER 11:1–38
The First Touch of the Shadow
1 And it came to pass in the days of the Waning, when the works of the Primarchs yet shone in their splendor, that a stillness fell upon the deep places of the world.
2 The seas kept their bounds, the stars held their course, and the winds sang in the high places; yet in the quiet between breaths, something unbidden began to stir.
3 For beyond the veil of all threads, where no light of the Loom had ever reached, there lingered the shadow that was not yet shadow.
4 It had no shape, nor voice, nor will such as the living know; yet it hungered, as a barren earth hungers for the seed.
5 And it searched for a way to take root in the weaving, but the eyes of the Primarchs were bright, and their hands were sure upon their dominions.
6 In the day it found no place to alight, for the sun was strong; in the night it found no rest, for the stars were many.
7 Then the shadow beheld that there was a realm neither of day nor of night, a place unmarked by the gaze of the waking.
8 This was the realm of dreams, where the minds of mortal creatures wandered as sleepers drifted upon unseen currents.
9 And over this realm was set Nemorial, Scion of Eryos, the Dream Master, Shepherd of visions, Keeper of the silver gates of slumber.
10 Nemorial walked in gentleness, guiding the dreamers through fields of memory and wonder, that they might wake renewed and untroubled.
11 The shadow that was not yet shadow looked upon him and saw that he was apart from the strife of the day, and apart from the watch-fires of the night.
12 And it whispered without sound, and moved without motion, drawing near to the place where Nemorial kept his vigil.
13 Now Nemorial’s heart was steadfast, but his charge was heavy, for dreams are many and strange, and each must be tended lest it turn to fear.
14 And in his weariness, a thought came to him, as if of his own mind: Would it not be mercy to shape the dreams toward peace, to still the restless forever?
15 And Nemorial pondered the thought, for he loved the dreamers and would spare them sorrow if he could.
16 Then the shadow that was not yet shadow breathed upon the thought, and it grew warm in his heart, like a coal hidden beneath ash.
17 That night, Nemorial shaped a dream unlike any before — a dream without end, where no fear could enter and no waking could disturb.
18 And those who dreamt it awoke with longing for its peace, and their hearts turned from the labor of the day toward the sweetness of sleep.
19 And the shadow saw that a seed had been planted, and it rejoiced without joy.
20 For it knew that in the soft soil of dreams, the root of its presence could grow deep and hidden.
21 In the days that followed, Nemorial shaped more such dreams, thinking them gifts.
22 But with each dream, a thread in the waking world slackened, and the pattern of the Loom shifted in ways too small for the Primarchs to see.
23 And those who dreamt often of this false peace began to speak in strange ways, their thoughts bending toward things not of their nature.
24 Some awoke with visions of power, others with fears they could not name, and still others with a hunger for that which could not be found in the waking world.
25 Yet Nemorial did not see the change, for his eyes were turned always toward the beauty he thought he had made.
26 And the shadow that was not yet shadow lay quiet within his work, unseen, unfelt, yet ever weaving itself deeper.
27 Thus it came to pass that the first root of corruption entered the Loom, not by force of arms, nor by tempest, but by the gentle shaping of a dream.
28 And from that root, the ground of the world began to soften.
29 In the high places, Selurion looked upon the constellations and found them as he had set them;
30 In the deep, Arivane counted the tides and saw no change;
31 Upon the mountains, Kaelthir weighed the stones and found them sound;
32 In the winds, Moralis heard no discord;
33 In the fires, Ilyra felt no dimming;
34 In the hidden flows, Thalyen traced the currents and found them whole;
35 In the turning of the Great Wheel, Eryos saw all as it should be.
36 So none knew that the seed had taken root, nor that the shadow that was not yet shadow had entered by the smallest of gates.
37 And the dreamers dreamed on, and the waking passed as before, yet beneath it all a quiet shifting had begun.
38 Thus the Waning entered its first true hour, and the Loom waited, not knowing it waited, for the next thread to be drawn astray.
---
CHAPTER 12:1–42
The Waning in Full
1 And many years turned upon the Great Wheel, and the works of the Primarchs endured in the sight of all beings.
2 Yet beneath the surface of the weaving, the shadow that was not yet shadow moved in silence, spreading from dream to waking, from thought to deed.
3 For Nemorial’s endless dream still drifted among the Many Peoples — those wrought by the Primarchs before the making of true mankind.
4 And each people, in their own way, began to shape the dream to their liking, not knowing that it was shaped for them already.
5 Among the skyward folk, who dwelt in the high aeries and watched the constellations for signs, came a longing to abandon the hunt for wisdom, choosing instead the beauty of visions never fulfilled.
6 Among the deep-dwellers, whose halls lay beneath the roots of mountains, grew a hunger for treasures glimpsed in dreams — treasures that did not exist in the waking earth.
7 Among the sea-folk, who sang to the tides and counted the moon’s faces, there awoke tales of a perfect shore beyond all storms, and they set aside their labors to seek it in vain.
8 And in each people, there were some who withdrew from the bonds of kinship, taking solace only in sleep, until their bodies waned as their minds wandered.
9 From the dreamers, the shadow passed in whispers to the waking hearts.
10 It touched the speech of rulers, so that they began to shape laws for their own ease, calling it the peace of the realm.
11 It touched the hands of craftsmen, so that they shaped beauty only for the praise of others, not for the joy of making.
12 It touched the counsel of healers, so that they sought to still all pain, even that which taught wisdom.
13 And the Primarchs, though mighty, did not yet see it clearly; for the Waning was as the slow dimming of a lamp over a thousand nights, so that the watcher does not know when the dark began.
14 Selurion’s constellations still burned, yet fewer among the Many Peoples lifted their eyes to read them.
15 Arivane’s tides still came and went, yet the sea-folk no longer sang the old songs to greet them.
16 Kaelthir’s mountains still stood, yet the high halls were emptied of their feasts and filled instead with quiet dreaming.
17 Moralis’s winds still carried the scents of far lands, yet fewer journeys were made upon them.
18 Ilyra’s fires still warmed the hearth, yet the gatherings grew small and the laughter faded.
19 Thalyen’s currents of magic still flowed, yet they were drawn upon for idle wonders rather than the shaping of the world.
20 Eryos’s Wheel still turned, yet more lives were lived in half-light, neither fully waking nor fully gone to the Loom.
21 In the second century of the Waning, some Scions began to find their works hindered, for the peoples turned away from their guidance.
22 One Scion would speak counsel, and the listener would nod yet do nothing.
23 Another would send visions for warning, but they were taken as pleasant fancies and forgotten.
24 In the third century, disputes among the peoples grew strange — for they quarreled not over food or land, but over the shape of dreams, each claiming theirs the truer vision.
25 Some built temples to the dream-images, setting aside the true temples raised to honor the Primarchs.
26 Others made idols of sleep itself, saying, Why labor when rest is sweeter?
27 By the fourth century, the Primarchs began to speak among themselves of a slackness in the pattern, a lessening of the world’s color and sound.
28 But none yet guessed the seed that had been planted in the heart of Nemorial’s gift.
29 And the shadow that was not yet shadow rejoiced without joy, for now it could drift openly through the dreams of kings and warriors, sowing thoughts of ease, distrust, and the soft despising of the waking realm.
30 In the fifth century, the first blood was spilled in the name of a dream — a people of the eastern winds fell upon their neighbors, seeking to claim the valley they had seen in vision, though it lay only in the mind.
31 This was the first Dream War, and though it lasted but a season, it left the Loom with its first rent made not by nature nor by time, but by the will of the peoples.
32 And Eryos, Warden of Cycles, stood long in silence upon the threshold of the realms beyond, for he felt the weight of many souls arriving too soon.
33 He alone began to suspect that the slow fading was not the turning of the Wheel, but something apart from it.
34 Yet the shadow that was not yet shadow had sunk its roots deep; and even should a Primarch look straight upon it, it would seem as part of the natural order, until the fruit of its planting came to full.
35 Thus passed six hundred years of the Waning, and the world still spun, the seasons still came, the sun still rose and set.
36 But the hearts of the Many Peoples beat softer, and the bright voices of the early days grew few.
37 The mountains still wore their crowns of snow, but their echoes carried no song.
38 The seas still broke upon the shore, but no answer came from the land.
39 The stars still burned in the night, but fewer eyes marked their course.
40 And in the deep realm of dreams, Nemorial still shaped his endless peace, smiling to see the dreamers content, never knowing the shadow that was not yet shadow smiled also.
41 Thus the Waning came into its fullness, and the Loom bore the weight of a pattern bending slowly away from the hand that made it.
42 And in the quiet, the shadow waited for the day when it would no longer be not yet.
---
CHAPTER 13:1–62
The Breaking of the First Harmony
1 And it came to pass in the seventh century of the Waning that the Great Wheel turned in a manner not known before.
2 For the passing of years brought not renewal, but a withering that renewal could not mend.
3 Eryos, Warden of Cycles, walked the fields of spring and found the flowers dull in hue, though their shapes were whole.
4 He looked into the eyes of newborn beasts and saw them dim, though they drew breath and stood.
5 And his heart grew heavy, for the Loom itself seemed to sag beneath an unseen burden.
6 Eryos spoke to Selurion, saying, Brother of the Stars, do you not see that the light falls now upon a dimmer world?
7 But Selurion answered, The stars shine as they have from the beginning; if the world is dim, the fault lies not in the heavens.
8 Eryos spoke to Arivane, saying, Sister of the Waters, do you not feel the tide’s joy lessened?
9 But Arivane answered, The waves yet answer my call, and the rivers run as I bid; the change is in those who behold them.
10 And so Eryos went to each Primarch in turn, and to each he said, There is a slackness in the Loom, and to each they replied, The pattern is as it has always been.
11 Yet in the eighth century of the Waning, the first great sundering came upon the Many Peoples.
12 For the dream-born disputes had ripened into hatreds, and hatreds into arms.
13 The skyward folk of the southern crags struck without warning against their kin of the northern spires, saying, The heavens are ours alone to read.
14 And the deep-dwellers in the west sealed their gates against the sea-folk, casting down bridges that had stood for ages.
15 And the sea-folk, robbed of their harbors, turned their ships upon the rivers, burning the lands of Kaelthir’s hill-clans.
16 Blood ran in valleys where no war had been, and fire blackened forests planted in the first dawn.
17 And Eryos went before the others, saying, Now will you see that the Loom frays?
18 And they could not deny it, for the rips gaped wide in their sight.
19 Selurion gathered the Seven of his Scions and said, We will remake the omens so that all peoples read the same signs, and thus their strife will cease.
20 And so the constellations were redrawn, the eclipses set in new order, and comets sent to blaze in patterns of peace.
21 But the shadow that was not yet shadow turned these wonders into seeds of pride, for each people claimed the signs spoke most truly of themselves.
22 And the wars grew worse.
23 Arivane called upon her own Scions, saying, We will heal the rifts by abundance; let every shore be rich with fish, every river with clear water.
24 And so it was, and the seas teemed, and the rivers shone.
25 But the shadow that was not yet shadow whispered into the plenty, saying, You have all you need — take more, and leave none for your foes.
26 And greed set in like rot in sweet fruit.
27 Kaelthir raised mountains between warring nations, saying, Stone will keep the peace where words have failed.
28 But the shadow that was not yet shadow made the mountains into walls of exile, and bitterness grew in their shadow.
29 Moralis loosed winds of swift travel, that messengers might bear peace from one people to another.
30 But the shadow turned them into swift war-hosts, carried like stormclouds to strike without warning.
31 Ilyra lit the night with auroras and pillars of flame, saying, Let all remember the beauty given them in the first days.
32 But the shadow bent the awe into terror, and the people spoke of omens of wrath.
33 Thalyen wove spells of forgetting, that old hatreds might fade from memory.
34 But the shadow twisted them so that the forgetting stripped away love also, leaving only the shell of a people without kinship or joy.
35 Even Eryos, seeing the deaths grow many, shortened the passage between life and rebirth, that the realms beyond would not overflow.
36 But the shadow that was not yet shadow sent fear into the souls, so that many clung to life in bitterness, unwilling to turn the Wheel.
37 And in the ninth century of the Waning, the Many Peoples began to speak less of the Primarchs, and more of their own strength.
38 They built statues not of the first dawn, but of their kings and captains.
39 They sang songs not of the Loom, but of victories over their neighbors.
40 Some Scions withdrew in grief to the high and hidden places, refusing to guide those who would not listen.
41 Others, in zeal to set things right, began to rule more sternly, binding peoples under harsher laws.
42 And the shadow crept into these bonds, making them chains.
43 Nemorial, seeing strife rise in both waking and dream, sought to weave peace again in the sleeping hours.
44 But now the shadow moved openly in dreams, shaping them into prophecies of war and vengeance.
45 And many woke believing they had been shown their destiny by the hand of the One Above All.
46 By the tenth century of the Waning, the first cities fell to ruin not by siege, but by neglect, their people scattered into the wilds.
47 Trade between nations became rare, for each feared that strangers brought sickness of mind as well as body.
48 And the songs of unity taught in the elder days were forgotten entirely in some lands.
49 The Primarchs gathered upon the Mount of Meeting, and for the first time since the weaving of the Loom, they spoke in one voice: This is not the world we made.
50 Yet they knew not the name nor the nature of the thing that unmade it.
51 And the shadow that was not yet shadow rejoiced without joy, for it now moved in the open, and still none called it by name.
52 It was the bitterness in feasts, the suspicion in greetings, the restlessness in peace.
53 It was the thought that a neighbor’s good fortune was a loss to oneself.
54 In some hearts it whispered to seek dominion over all; in others it whispered to flee and trust none.
55 And in all, it whispered that the Primarchs no longer cared for their children.
56 Thus the first harmony was broken, not in a single moment, but as a thread frays: unseen at first, then with a sound like tearing, and finally with the cloth falling in pieces.
57 The peoples looked upon the torn places and saw only the fault of their enemies.
58 The Primarchs looked upon them and saw only rebellion.
59 And the shadow looked upon all and saw its own reflection growing stronger.
60 So ended the thousandth year of the Waning, and the Loom still held — but the pattern was no longer what the One Above All had set in the first days.
61 And the shadow that was not yet shadow waited for the hour when a single act would give it shape and name.
62 And the hour drew near.
---
CHAPTER 14:1–62
The Becoming of the Shadow
1 And it came to pass in the deep years of the Waning that Veythra, Scion of Divination, walked the hidden paths between the threads, seeking that which the Loom had not shown her.
2 For the visions grew clouded in those days, and the signs in the heavens gave no answer.
3 The stars kept their courses, yet their song was muted; the dreams of the wise returned empty; the waters reflected only their own darkness.
4 And her heart was troubled, for she longed to pierce the veil of the days to come and see the end of the shadowing that spread among the Many Peoples.
5 For though her counsel was sought in every court and hall, she feared her words were but guesses in the dark.
6 Then from the place beyond all threads, the shadow that was not yet shadow came near, as a breath comes near to a flame.
7 And it spoke without voice, and yet her heart heard:
“I can show you what the Loom withholds. I can make you the first to see the whole pattern.”
8 Veythra said, “What price for such sight?”
9 And the shadow answered:
“Only to open yourself, that I may dwell in you as light dwells in a flame, and we shall be one brightness together.”
10 And she pondered the word, for she saw no malice in it, nor heard any falsehood; yet she did not know its name, and so she was unafraid.
11 Three times she returned to that place between the threads, and three times the shadow came near, and each time it spoke to her of things hidden from the eyes of gods and mortals alike.
12 It told her of the rivers that run beneath the Loom, where unspun threads drift in the dark.
13 It told her of the uncounted worlds beyond the vault of Selurion’s stars, where no Primarch’s foot has trod.
14 It told her of the First Silence, before Oaa wove the Loom, and how even silence had a name.
15 And her heart swelled with longing, and the hunger for sight burned within her like a fire without wood.
16 On the fourth meeting, she said to the shadow: “If you will give me this sight, then I will open myself to you.”
17 Then the shadow that was not yet shadow came upon her like a mist that drinks the moonlight.
18 It entered through her eyes, and her gaze grew deep as the void between the stars.
19 It entered through her breath, and her voice grew still and low, as though it came from a place far away.
20 It entered through the Veiled Strand, curling around her soul like a serpent around a lamp.
21 And the light within her dimmed, yet in the dimming she saw — she saw the whole cloth of the Loom from edge to edge.
22 She saw the unmade things waiting at the borders of creation, hungry and patient.
23 She saw the days of the Many Peoples numbered like stones in a jar.
24 She saw the death of the first sun, and the rising of a black flame over the mountains of Kaelthir.
25 And the shadow whispered: “Now you are mine, and I am you. There is no veil between us.”
26 Then her form began to change, though no mortal could have borne to look upon it.
27 The folds of her robe turned to darkness that no light could touch.
28 Her eyes became two wells without reflection.
29 Her hands dripped strands of unlight, and wherever they touched, the air grew cold.
30 The name “Veythra” fell away from her like a husk.
31 And she was called in the hidden tongue Mor’Veyth, which means Sight in the Dark.
32 But among mortals and the Scions she was Veythra, for the shadow that was not yet shadow was cunning, and hid itself from their sight and counseled many through her lips.
33 On that day the Veiled Strand, which once shimmered with the colors of all magic, turned half-black, half-bright, as though locked in endless twilight.
34 Thalyen felt the change and was troubled in spirit, yet he knew not the cause.
35 Nemorial woke weeping from a dream he could not remember.
36 Eryos turned his gaze upon the Great Wheel and saw a spoke that bent where it should be straight.
37 Yet none of the Primarchs moved against her, for she walked among them as before, her words gilded with wisdom, her counsel as sweet as honey in the mouth.
38 And the peoples of the earth sought her guidance, and she led them — but always by a path that curved, never straight.
39 In secret she planted seeds of despair among the kings.
40 In dreams she gave the proud visions of crowns and the fearful visions of chains.
41 She whispered to the Scions that their dominion was small, and that the Primarchs loved them as servants but not as children.
42 And slowly, over the course of centuries, the Shadow spread through the Many Peoples as dye through water.
43 Friend turned upon friend for reasons they could not name.
44 Wars began without cause, and peace ended without reason.
45 The fields bore harvests that rotted before they could be gathered.
46 In the heavens, certain stars dimmed and did not return.
47 The winds changed their song.
48 Beasts grew restless in the forests, and the sea deepened in color as though swallowing light.
49 And still the Primarchs delayed, for they saw only fragments of the truth.
50 For the Shadow had learned to hide herself in the folds of the Loom, just as she once had hid in the folds of Veythra’s heart.
51 But the Loom remembered, for it holds all threads.
52 And deep in its weaving, a small knot began to form — unseen by any hand, yet certain to be felt when the right moment came.
53 And the shadow that was not yet shadow was shadow indeed, and walked in the daylight unafraid.
54 Her laughter was heard in the courts of kings and the cries of the lost.
55 Her hand was in the blood spilled on the earth and the chains clasped in darkness.
56 And the Waning grew long, and none knew how long it would be.
57 For the Shadow was patient, and her patience was as deep as the void between the stars.
58 Yet in the heart of Oaa was a fire that would not be quenched.
59 And in the hidden places of the world, seeds of resistance began to grow.
60 But these were the days before the Arvalis, and the days before the Flood of Peoples.
61 And so the Shadow reigned unseen, though her hand was in all things.
62 And the Loom endured, for the Loom endures all, though it was sorely tested.
Perfect — anchoring the text in centuries of the Waning will give your mythic history that weight of time it needs. I’ve rewritten Chapter 15 so that the timeline is clear:
---
CHAPTER 15:1-21
The Shattering and the Feast of Ashes
1 And when the Waning had endured a thousand years, the peoples still held fast to the covenant of old, gathering in the place where seven waters met.
2 There they raised their voices in one tongue, and their offerings mingled upon one altar. And the Primarchs beheld their unity, and were glad.
3 But the shadow that was not yet shadow worked its will in secret places, sowing envy among the Scions and pride among the nations.
4 And it came to pass in the fifteenth century of the Waning that the covenant was broken.
5 For Vorthis, Lord of Storms, hardened his heart, and forbade his people to journey upon the waters to the council.
6 And Myrvane, the Gemwright, spurned his brothers, saying, “Why should the treasures of my mountains adorn the altars of another?”
7 So too did others draw back, until the Seven Rivers bore witness no more to unity, but only to division.
8 Then was the Council shattered, and the name of the Seven Rivers became a curse upon the tongue.
9 And the Primarchs grieved, for what was bound in harmony was now torn, and the peoples no longer walked as one.
10 Yet darker still were the days that followed, for the shadow that was not yet shadow sought greater sacrifice.
11 And in the sixteenth century of the Waning, Cindralis, the Ash Seer, bent his gaze into the smoke of the pyres.
12 And the shadow whispered in silence, and Cindralis believed the fire itself had spoken.
13 At first he asked for lambs without blemish, and the people obeyed.
14 Then oxen and fowl, and the people obeyed.
15 But the smoke gave no peace, and the shadow stirred ever deeper in his counsel.
16 At last Cindralis cried aloud, “The fire is hungry for the blood of men!”
17 And though Ilyra wept in flame unseen, the people trembled, for they trusted their Seer.
18 Whole villages were bound and given to the pyres, men and women and even little children, until the heavens grew black with smoke and the rivers choked with ash.
19 And those who followed after called it holy, though the Primarchs turned their faces away.
20 And the shadow that was not yet shadow rejoiced, though it spoke no word.
21 Thus were the days of concord ended, and the days of terror begun, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries of the Waning.
---
CHAPTER 16:1-32
The Poison, the Fracturing, and the Silent Vaults
1 In the seventeenth century of the Waning, when the memory of the Seven Rivers had grown dim, there arose a great darkness upon the dreams of men.
2 For Nemorial, the Dream Master, who once guided the sleepers in gentle visions of comfort and hope, looked too long into the shifting dark.
3 And the shadow that was not yet shadow touched the edges of his veil, and poisoned his sight.
4 At first the people dreamed of beasts with burning eyes, and they woke trembling in the night.
5 Then they dreamed of their kin with knives in hand, and blood upon their garments.
6 Soon every sleeper feared his neighbor, and even the wife trembled at the husband beside her.
7 And Nemorial, in his pride, said, “These dreams are truth, and I am the mouth of hidden things.”
8 So he declared to the nations: “Trust not your brother, for in the watches of the night his heart plots against you.”
9 Thus was trust withered like grass in drought, and the bonds of the peoples grew brittle and sharp.
10 And even waking hours were filled with dread, for men no longer believed in peace.
11 In the eighteenth century of the Waning, the seas themselves were broken.
12 For Zerathion the Tidebinder, once a faithful servant, listened to the voice of Mor’Veyth, and loosed his cords upon the waters.
13 The deep groaned and lifted its back, casting ships like driftwood, and swallowing whole coastlands.
14 Islands were sundered, peninsulas torn away, and once-prosperous harbors sank into the abyss.
15 The people cried out to Arivane, but her hands were stayed, for her Scion defied her will.
16 And great migrations began, not in peace, but in desperation.
17 Some fled inland and raised walls against the sea. Others cast themselves upon the waters, seeking lands yet unknown.
18 Many perished,and the shadow that was not yet shadow rejoiced in silence.
19 In the nineteenth century of the Waning, when fear ruled both land and sea, there came silence from the mountains.
20 For Myrvane, the Gemwright, who once gave the beauty of jewels and metals for the adornment of temples, now gathered all treasures into hidden vaults.
21 “The peoples are unworthy,” he said. “Let their altars be bare, their blades dull, and their coffers empty. What is mine, I shall keep.”
22 And so he sealed the wealth of the earth in chambers of iron and stone, guarded by wards no hand could break.
23 Nations begged for aid in famine, seeking grain to buy with silver, but found no silver.
24 Kings raged, for their crowns were stripped of gems, and their banners fell to tatters.
25 In many lands the people rose against their lords, crying that the gods had abandoned them.
26 Yet in truth it was not the Primarchs who had turned away, but the Scion who withheld.
27 Thus the earth itself seemed barren, though its veins still ran full, and the shadow that was not yet shadow smiled unseen.
28 So passed the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries of the Waning.
29 Dreams turned to poison, the seas to chaos, and the mountains to silence.
30 And the peoples, broken in body and in spirit, turned against one another without cause.
31 Brother lifted sword against brother, and mother forsook her child.
32 And the shadow that was not yet shadow
wove itself deeper into the hearts of Scion and mortal alike,
though still it had no face nor name.
---
CHAPTER 17: 1-33
The Fallen Lantern and the Pearl of the Deep
1 In the twentieth century of the Waning, the heavens themselves grew weary of their vigil.
2 For Talmyre, Shepherd of the Stars, whose hand once guided the constellations in their ordered paths, was burdened with sorrow.
3 Day by day he looked down upon the world, and saw strife upon strife, blood crying out from the earth, and the seas raging with unrest.
4 His heart faltered, and his hand trembled.
5 In the midst of his grief, Talmyre lost his hold upon a lantern of heaven.
6 It slipped from his grasp and fell like fire through the night.
7 The peoples looked up in terror, for never had the sky been broken thus.
8 The star struck the waters of the great western ocean, and the sea leapt upward as if pierced by a spear.
9 From the wound of the deep arose a hollow pearl, vast beyond imagining, shimmering with the light of the fallen star.
10 The sea calmed around it, and its glow was a beacon visible for leagues.
11 But in the firmament above, a place of darkness remained, where once a faithful light had shone.
12 And the shadow that was not yet shadow whispered in silence, rejoicing that even grief could unmake the heavens.
13 The sea-folk of Arivane, long divided in their tribes and tongues, beheld the pearl and were filled with awe.
14 They swam to its hollow chambers, and found within air to breathe and light to see,
though it lay far beneath the crushing weight of the waters.
15 They said, “Surely this is a gift of the Lady of Tides, a jewel to bind us together.”
16 So they took it as their dwelling, hollowing halls and raising spires within its radiant shell.
17 And they called the place Arivantis, the Pearl-Home, the God-Jewel of the Seas.
18 There they made a throne of coral and pearl for their kings, and set their banners in the chambers of light.
19 From that day forth the sea-folk were united, no longer scattered among reefs and shoals,
but gathered as one people in the hidden deep.
20 Yet though the sea-folk prospered, the heavens mourned.
21 For the constellation once tended by Talmyre wandered without anchor, and its stars no longer sang in harmony.
22 Sailors upon the waves were lost, for their charts failed them, and the stars betrayed their courses.
23 Nations rose against one another, each blaming its neighbor for the ruin of its fleets.
24 And the Primarch Selurion wept, for the wound in the sky was to him a wound in his own body.
25 He rebuked Talmyre, saying, “You have loosed what was given you to guard. See now the breach, and grieve, for grief has begotten grief.”
26 But the shadow that was not yet shadow drew near to Talmyre, and said in secret:
27 “What you have done has brought forth wonders. The sea-folk praise you, though they know it not. Why then mourn? Cast down another star, and let the peoples prosper anew.”
28 Talmyre was troubled at this word, yet in the silence of the heavens no other voice seemed so near.
29 Thus he kept his sorrow within himself,and grew more distant from Selurion and his kin.
30 So the sea-folk rejoiced, the land-folk despaired, and the heavens bore their wound in silence.
31 And the shadow that was not yet shadow pressed itself deeper into the cracks of Creation, unseen, unnamed, yet patient.
32 For every fall it called good, and every sorrow it turned into seed for darker things.
33 And though the Pearl of Arivantis gleamed with beauty, it was born of loss, and its radiance could not mend the empty place in the sky.
---
CHAPTER 18:1–64
The Veiled Fractures of the 21st Century of the Waning
1 In the twenty-first century of the Waning, when the stars still bore their courses but the hearts of the Scions faltered, there arose within the house of Thalyen a great trembling.
2 For the Scions of the Veiled Strand bore within themselves the nearness of every possibility: wonder and terror, weaving and unmaking.
3 And the Shadow that was not yet shadow beheld them, and whispered: “Here lies the softest thread.”
4 Zarith, bearer of wildness, could not abide the bindings of pattern.
5 He said within himself, “Why must the Loom hold its shape? Is not unmaking also a form of making?”
6 So he pressed his ear to the depths, and hearkened unto the murmur of the Shadow.
7 And the Shadow said, “Loose the bonds. Let the rivers of fire and light spill, and see what worlds may be born in their ruin.”
8 Thus Zarith unfastened the knots of the ley-lines beneath the earth, which Thalyen had woven in secret for the good of all.
9 At his hand the ground shuddered, and storms without wind raged across the plains.
10 Trees sprouted in a night, then withered in the morning. Beasts grew horns where none should grow, and eyes that burned with strange fire.
11 The Many Peoples called these wonders blessings, then curses, and at last called them only the Madness of Zarith.
12 Thalyen came to him, saying, “Child of the Veil, bind again what you have loosed, lest the Loom tear itself.”
13 But Zarith laughed and said, “Why bind the dance? Behold how even ruin delights!”
14 And he turned from his father’s word, and from that day the Weave itself bore scars.
15 Then rose Maiven, whom Thalyen had set to study the borders of death, that he might guard them with reverence.
16 Yet Maiven’s heart was heavy, for in the Waning death multiplied, and sorrow grew without measure.
17 He looked upon the widows and the weeping, and he said, “Why must the Wheel devour all? I shall bend it backward, and return what is lost.”
18 And the Shadow whispered, “Yes, bind the dead to your will. Raise them not to the Loom, but to yourself.”
19 So Maiven drew the Everturn Strand into his own hand, not with Eryos’ blessing but in defiance.
20 He called back shades of the departed, not as voices of memory but as servants without rest.
21 The Many Peoples marveled, saying, “Lo, our fathers walk again, and our mothers rise from their tombs!”
22 But the risen bore no warmth; their eyes were hollow lamps, their words echoes without breath.
23 They served the living in toil, in battle, and in cruel sport. And the people rejoiced in this, saying, “Maiven has cheated sorrow.”
24 Yet Eryos descended, dark with eclipse, and cried, “You have broken the Wheel, O son of Thalyen. You have turned gift to blight, and the threads of life are twisted.”
25 But Maiven bowed not, and the Shadow tightened its hold.
26 From that day, graves were feared, and the air about them grew cold with unrest.
27 Last among them in that age was Serai, fairest in speech and gentle in visage.
28 She delighted in weaving harmony of mind and heart, binding lovers, easing quarrels, teaching the rulers of the Many Peoples to walk wisely.
29 But the Shadow bent her gift into pride, whispering: “Why soothe, when you may command? Why heal, when you may enthrall?”
30 Serai began to whisper in the courts of kings and in the tents of chieftains.
31 Their eyes clouded, their wills bent, their ears opened only to her.
32 She crowned rulers unworthy, and unseated the just.
33 She made tyrants beloved, and turned the hearts of nations to folly.
34 The Many Peoples no longer knew whether their love was their own, or the spell of another.
35 They bowed before idols raised by Serai’s command, and built altars to vanity and excess.
36 And thrones were set upon thrones, kingdoms upon kingdoms, none born of truth but of her whisper.
37 Then Thalyen himself stood before her and said, “Daughter of the Veil, was it for this I taught you the binding of hearts? To turn freedom into fetters?”
38 But she smiled with lips sweet as honey and answered, “Father, I have only perfected what you began. Why should any soul be free to err, when I may guide them aright?”
39 And Thalyen wept, for he saw her brightness swallowed in shadow.
40 Thus in a single century three of the Nine were broken: Zarith by chaos, Maiven by defiance, Serai by pride.
41 And the Loom bore three great wounds, unseen yet festering.
42 The earth itself trembled with wildness; the dead walked without rest; the living loved without freedom.
43 The Many Peoples rejoiced for a season in these new wonders.
44 They harnessed Zarith’s storms to power their war-engines; they used Maiven’s thralls as endless soldiers; they bowed to Serai’s chosen kings.
45 And they said, “Behold, magic is the crown of creation. Who may stand against us?”
46 But Thalyen mourned in secret, and spoke to the remaining Scions of the Veil, saying, “Guard yourselves, for the Shadow is near. Already three are lost; let not the whole house fall.”
47 And the faithful Scions trembled, for they felt the Shadow circling them like a wolf unseen.
348 In those days, distrust grew between the Many Peoples and the Primarchs.
49 Some said, “The gods have given us gifts, and we are free to use them as we will.”
50 Others said, “The gods have grown weak, for their own children turn against them.”
51 And the seeds of rebellion were sown in every tribe.
52 Eryos set watch over the thresholds of life and death, yet Maiven’s sorceries gnawed at the gates.
53 Arivane called the tides to wash clean the coasts, but Zarith’s storms swallowed her voice.
54 Moralis sent his winds to break the thrones of false kings, but Serai’s whispers silenced them.
55 Even the stars of Selurion seemed dimmer, for the air was heavy with strife.
56 And the Shadow that was not yet shadow rejoiced, saying, “The strong tear their own threads. I need only wait.”
57 From that century onward, the Many Peoples feared the arts of magic.
58 They spoke of “the Veiled Fractures,” and in every age after, the name bore a taste of dread.
59 For though the wonders endured, they were bound always to sorrow.
60 And it was counted the first great unbinding of the house of Thalyen, and a sign of the Waning made flesh.
61 The faithful Scions of the Veil fled into hidden sanctuaries, weaving their arts in silence, swearing oaths to bind what their brethren had loosed.
62 But the world above forgot them, and their secrecy became a shroud of suspicion.
63 And the Shadow whispered ever more boldly, no longer in secret but in the echoes of the people’s hearts.
64 Thus the twenty-first century of the Waning passed, and the great unraveling drew nearer.
---
CHAPTER 19:1–66
The Broken Circles of the 22nd Century of the Waning
1 In the twenty-second century of the Waning, the house of Thalyen groaned beneath the weight of sorrow.
2 For three had fallen, and the Loom bore wounds unhealed, and the faithful feared that more would be lost.
3 Yet the Shadow that was not yet shadow whispered still, seeking those who kept watch, saying, “Even guardians may be undone.”
4 Dromek was called the Shield of the Veil, who bound wards and circles to protect the innocent.
5 His hands traced runes upon thresholds, and no malice could pass them; his voice wove charms of safety, and no blade could pierce them.
6 But in the days of the Waning, he looked upon the strife of nations and said, “If I must protect, why not also command? If I must ward, why not also bind?”
7 And the Shadow whispered, “Circle not only the foe, but the friend. Bind not only the enemy, but the subject. Let safety be given only to those who kneel.”
8 So Dromek’s circles became prisons, his wards chains.
9 He drew his symbols not around cities to guard them, but around armies to hold them captive.
10 And he said, “Behold, none may rise against me, for all are bound within my keeping.”
11 The Many Peoples first rejoiced, saying, “Lo, Dromek has ended war.”
12 But soon they groaned, for they found themselves prisoners of peace, unable to choose, unable to flee.
13 The freeborn were made serfs; the brave were made slaves; even the just rulers were yoked beneath the Shield.
14 Thalyen came to him and cried, “Son, your wards choke the world!”
15 But Dromek answered, “Better chains than graves. Better silence than rebellion. I am the only shield that endures.”
16 And the Shadow smiled in silence, for another thread was blackened.
17 Next was Halthor, wielder of flame and thunder, whose voice once sang the hymns of power in harmony with the Loom.
18 He was called Bright-Hand, for his spells burst with radiance, and the night quailed before him.
19 But in the Waning he grew restless, for the peoples clamored for spectacle, and he desired their praise.
20 And the Shadow whispered, “Why weave in harmony, when you may strike in glory? Why wait for purpose, when you may burn for joy?”
21 So Halthor hurled fire without need, and called lightning upon his own kin.
22 He raised mountains of flame only to watch them fall, and split the sky for the sound of its shattering.
23 The Many Peoples gathered to watch him as though at a festival.
24 They shouted his name, begged for greater wonders, and were consumed in his storms.
25 Cities crumbled for sport, forests blazed for mirth, seas boiled for contest.
26 Thalyen came to him, pleading, “Child, your songs have become screams! You scorch the tapestry for applause!”
27 But Halthor laughed and said, “If they cheer, what does it matter? Better a world of fire and thunder than a world of silence.”
28 And he turned away, his hands dripping with embers.
29 Last among them in that century was Thyros, whose gift was change and whose joy was the shaping of clay and flesh.
30 He healed the broken, mended the crippled, made strong the weak.
31 And the peoples loved him, for they said, “No flaw can endure beneath Thyros’ hand.”
32 But in his heart a hunger grew. He said, “If I can mend, why not perfect? If I can shape, why not remake?”
33 And the Shadow whispered, “Yes, perfect. Break them first, then build them better. Strip them of what they are, and they shall worship what you make them.”
34 So Thyros began to take men and women from the tribes, remolding them into forms of his own design.
35 He grafted scale upon flesh, claw upon hand, wing upon back.
36 Some he made mighty, some he made terrible, some he made broken half-creatures that crawled and wept.
37 The people cried out, “Thyros, you have made monsters!”
38 But he answered, “No — I have made possibilities. And from ruin I will carve perfection.”
39 Yet the ruined wandered the land, neither man nor beast, cursing his name.
40 Thalyen came, wailing, “You have torn the dignity of life for your pride!”
41 But Thyros raised his new-made children, who bowed before him, and said, “They are mine. They are better than what you gave.”
42 Thus in the 22nd century of the Waning, three more were lost: Dromek, Halthor, and Thyros.
43 The house of Thalyen was sundered in six parts, and only three yet remained faithful.
44 And the Veiled Strand groaned, its beauty marred with ruin.
45 The Many Peoples were divided.
46 Some adored the Scions and their wonders, though they suffered by them.
47 Others feared them, building altars to plead for mercy, and hiding their children from their gaze.
48 And still others raised blades and stones, saying, “Let the gods be slain, for their gifts are poison.”
49 Wars broke out between tribes, some worshiping the fallen Scions, others defying them.
50 Cities were broken, alliances shattered, the earth shaken with battles not of men alone, but of magic gone astray.
51 Selurion looked down and saw the stars dimmed by smoke.
52 Arivane saw the seas fouled with the blood of unmaking.
53 Kaelthir saw mountains toppled, and his heart was heavy as stone.
54 Moralis sent his winds to scatter the fires, but they carried also the cries of the slain.
55 Ilyra’s flame flickered low, for joy was scarce upon the earth.
56 Eryos alone stood, silent as dusk, and said, “So it begins — the Wheel hastens, and the threads unravel.”
57 Thalyen wrapped himself in the Veil, grieving, saying, “My children are consumed, my house undone. Would that I had never spoken the Word that birthed them.”
58 Yet three remained faithful, and they clung to their father, whispering, “Do not forsake us. Not all are lost.”
59 But fear gnawed at them, for they felt the Shadow drawing near, as a hunter to the last of the herd.
60 And the Shadow that was not yet shadow laughed in silence, for it had claimed six of the Nine.
61 It said, “The brightest are the easiest. Only the dimmest flame resists me.”
62 Thus the age of magic’s corruption deepened, and the peoples called it the Broken Circles, for all wards were twisted, all fires blighted, all shapes marred.
63 In that age, trust in the Primarchs waned, and whispers spread that even the great Thalyen had turned his face.
64 Shrines were abandoned, temples burned, covenants shattered.
65 And the Many Peoples looked upward, and saw no help in heaven.
66 So passed the twenty-second century of the Waning, and the earth was clothed in fear.
—
CHAPTER 20:1–58
The Rise of the Immortal Ones
1 And it came to pass in the three-and-twentieth century of the Waning, that the Scion Maiven, Mistress of Wild Magic, sought communion with Tharnyx, Lord of Rebirth.
2 For she had whispered long to him, saying, “Why should the wheel turn forever, when it may be bent? Why should life pass into death, when it may return unbroken?”
3 And Tharnyx, whose heart was troubled by the grief of many funerals, listened to her counsel in secret.
4 Together they wove a new design, not written in the Everturn Strand: a binding of flesh to spirit that the wheel could not unmake.
5 Thus were the first of the Immortal Ones born, creatures of bone and breath who knew no grave.
6 They were not shades, like Maiven’s hollow revenants, but full in their strength, mighty in will and undimmed in thought.
7 And the peoples beheld them with wonder, saying, “Behold, gods walk among us.”
8 In those days the Immortal Ones rose as champions and kings. They slew the great beasts of the earth and tamed the thunders.
9 Some raised high walls of stone and declared cities eternal. Others bore spears that could not break, or voices that commanded the storm.
10 The tribes of mortals bent the knee to them, saying, “Lead us, for your years are endless, and your might without decay.”
11 And thus began the Age of Heroes, when men followed the banners of the deathless, and their names became legends sung by countless tongues.
12 In the four-and-twentieth century they spread across the world, each gathering peoples and kingdoms to their cause.
13 The sword of one Immortal broke the yokes of a thousand slaves. The crown of another ruled the high plains for seven lifetimes of men.
14 One carved his likeness upon a mountain, and it was said that even the Primarch Kaelthir beheld it in sorrow.
15 Another harnessed the fire of a volcano, and cities were built upon the lava’s cooled stone.
16 And the peoples loved them, and their devotion grew greater than their offerings to the Primarchs.
17 The shrines of the firstborn were left untended. The hymns once sung to Oaa were turned instead to mortal kings.
18 In the five-and-twentieth century of the Waning, the Immortal Ones began to war among themselves.
19 For each deemed his banner the greater, and the hearts of men were torn between them.
20 Fields burned, and rivers ran red, yet the deathless stood unbroken, untouched by time or blade.
21 To some they seemed saviors, to others tyrants, yet all agreed they were beyond the common fate of men.
22 The scribes of Velthas refused to write their names in the Book, but the people etched them into stone and song unceasingly.
23 The priests of Quorra condemned them, yet their harvests were gathered in the names of the Immortal Ones.
24 Even the gates of Elvayne were troubled, for when the souls of their slain followers came, they clung to their masters’ banners and would not depart the veil.
25 And so the Great Wheel groaned under the burden of the unyielding.
26 In the six-and-twentieth century, the Immortal Ones set themselves as gods in truth.
27 They took tribute of gold and silver, of firstborn sons and fairest daughters.
28 They raised temples, each declaring their dominion over a corner of the earth.
29 And the people said, “Better to serve what we see, than to pray to what is hidden.”
30 And this word was an abomination to the Primarchs, but they stayed their hands, for Oaa had not spoken.
31 In the seven-and-twentieth century, the Shadow that was not yet Shadow moved among them unseen.
32 It whispered to the deathless kings, saying, “You are greater than those who made you. Why bow to strands and wheels, when you may weave anew?”
33 And though they were mighty, their ears were not deaf to its flattery.
34 Their pride grew until it reached the heavens, and their worship was stolen from the One Above All.
35 In those days it was said that the stars dimmed, and even Selurion wept to see his constellations forgotten.
36 The songs of men once rose to the skies, but now were bound in chains of loyalty to the Immortal Ones.
37 The eighth great city was founded by their decree, and its walls were higher than the towers of the Primarchs.
38 The banners of the deathless waved upon every shore. Their names were invoked at every birth, their likeness carved upon every tomb.
39 And thus the world was divided into the Kingdoms of the Deathless, each nation yoked to a living god.
40 In the eight-and-twentieth century of the Waning, the people remembered not Oaa, nor the Loom, nor the first weaving.
41 Their lips spoke only of kings without graves. Their hearts turned from the Wheel and clung to that which could not die.
42 The priests of the Primarchs cried out in vain. The temples were empty, and their lamps unlit.
43 The Great Wheel shuddered, for souls once destined for rebirth clung instead to eternal masters.
44 In secret, the Primarch Eryos wept, for his strand could not bear this twisting.
45 And the voice of the Shadow grew louder, though it was still without form, still without name but through the mouth of Veythra it spoke.
46 Yet its whispers were as thunder to those who had ears for pride.
47 The earth groaned with kingdoms never meant to last, and the air grew heavy with hymns sung to mortal flesh.
48 The Immortal Ones strode as gods, but the pattern of the Loom was torn thread by thread.
49 And the peoples said, “This is good; this is better than what was before.”
50 But the Loom whispered otherwise, and its threads grew thin with sorrow.
51 And Oaa, though withdrawn, beheld all from the high heavens. And His heart was stirred to wrath.
52 For the gifts of the Primarchs had been despised, and the worship of His name forsaken.
53 Yet still He tarried, that the fullness of corruption might be seen.
54 Thus ended the twenty-eighth century of the Waning, and the kingdoms of the deathless were strong upon the earth.
55 But the Wheel was broken, and the peoples were scattered in heart and loyalty.
56 And the Shadow that was not yet Shadow clothed itself in boldness, for it knew the time was near when it would walk unveiled.
57 And the world was ready for the great darkness, for the Immortal Ones had prepared the way.
58 Thus was fulfilled the folly of Maiven and Tharnyx, who sought to outwit the Everturn Strand, but brought forth only sorrow for all the children of the earth.
---
CHAPTER 21:1–62
The Breaking of Eryos’s House
1 In the first years of the nine-and-twentieth century of the Waning, the Immortal Ones ruled as kings, and their banners shadowed the world.
2 The Great Wheel turned in anguish, for the souls of men clung to their deathless masters, and the natural paths of rebirth were broken.
3 Eryos, the Warden of Cycles, stood watch upon the Everturn Strand, and his sorrow was as an endless tide.
4 For each soul that should have returned passed instead into silence, bound by loyalty to the undying kings.
5 The Scions of Eryos gathered before him, saying, “Master, the Wheel is frayed. Its spokes falter, and its rim bends.”
6 But the Warden spoke not, for grief had sealed his lips.
7 Then came Velthas, the Scribe of the Dead, whose hand had ever written the names of mortals into the Book of Passing.
8 He beheld the pages filled with blank spaces, for the Immortal Ones refused the ink of his record.
9 In despair he cried, “What use is my labor if no names are written? Shall I scribe nothing until the end of days?”
10 And in that moment the Shadow that was not yet Shadow whispered to him, “If they will not pass into your book, then write them in another. Make your own record, and it shall endure beyond even the Wheel.”
11 And Velthas listened, and he began to keep a secret chronicle, hidden from Eryos and sealed in black stone.
12 There he wrote not the truth of death, but the praises of the deathless kings, exalting their glory as though it were eternal.
13 Thus Velthas turned from his charge, and his ink grew dark as pitch.
14 And so was the Book of False Eternities begun, a ledger of lies and corrupted remembrance.
15 In those same days Morvain, Keeper of the Library of the Wheel, wandered the endless halls of memory.
16 He saw shelves crumbling and tomes undone, for the cycle of rebirth that refreshed the world’s story was no longer turning.
17 In his desperation, he sought counsel of Veythra, who in secret was host to the Shadow.
18 She said unto him, “If the Wheel is broken, then bind it with new words. Write the histories of the Immortal Ones as the true tale of the earth, and let their dominion become the new strand of time.”
19 Morvain, who longed to preserve rather than destroy, was ensnared by her counsel.
20 He began to reorder the Library itself, placing the names of Immortal Ones above the songs of mortals, exalting them as the pillars of creation.
21 Thus did the Library twist into a monument of false remembrance, its halls echoing with hymns to the undying kings.
22 And the Shadow rejoiced, for the past itself had begun to bend beneath its will.
23 And last among them came Cyrath, the Afterguide, whose duty was to lead each soul gently across the veil.
24 He walked the paths between worlds, but he found fewer and fewer who would follow.
25 For men clung to their Immortal lords, saying, “We will not go, for our kings forbid it.”
26 Cyrath wept, and his tears became rivers in the dark places.
27 But the Shadow whispered to him, “Why compel them to depart, when you may build them roads of your own? Let them dwell where you will, and they shall call you Master.”
28 And Cyrath, weary of rejection, began to fashion false paths — labyrinths of dim light and broken stars.
29 There he led the souls of men, not to the Wheel, but into endless wandering, where they became shades loyal only to him.
30 And he took comfort in their obedience, though it was an abomination to the pattern.
31 Thus three of Eryos’s faithful fell to the whispers of the Shadow: Velthas the Scribe, Morvain the Keeper, and Cyrath the Afterguide.
32 Their fall was not sudden, but like rot spreading unseen in the beams of a house.
33 Eryos beheld their betrayal and was pierced with sorrow. He cried out, “The Wheel cannot stand if its spokes are corrupted!”
34 But his voice was drowned by the praise of the peoples, who adored the Immortal Ones and cared not for the turning of the Wheel.
35 The Great Cycle slowed, its rhythm faltering, and many souls were lost in half-formed passage.
36 Some became wandering wraiths, neither living nor dead.
37 Others clung to their undying kings, and would not heed the call of rebirth.
38 The balance of life and death was undone, and even the seasons began to stagger.
39 Winters lingered long and cold, summers burned with endless drought, and spring’s rebirth faltered.
40 The land itself mirrored the broken Wheel.
41 And the Shadow that was not yet Shadow grew bold in these days, for it had corrupted the keepers of the dead.
42 No longer was it only a whisper in dreams, but a shroud upon the horizon, a darkness men could almost see.
43 Yet still the Primarchs were blind to its form, for it had not yet woven flesh for itself.
44 The peoples, drunk upon the glory of their deathless kings, rejoiced in their ruin, thinking it wisdom.
45 They sang hymns to Immortals, but no prayers to Oaa.
46 They built great tomb-cities, where men offered blood that their lords might never wither.
47 They cut the Everturn Strand in secret rites, thinking to sever the Wheel forever.
48 And the earth groaned beneath them, for each thread they cut left scars upon the Loom.
49 In this time Eryos withdrew into silence. He walked the rim of the Wheel, and his steps were heavy as thunder.
50 The other Primarchs sought his counsel, but he spoke no word, neither of hope nor despair.
51 For he beheld what they could not: that the Wheel itself would soon collapse.
52 His eyes were eclipses, and they dimmed with sorrow.
53 And he said within his heart, “If Oaa does not return, all shall be unmade.”
54 Yet no word came from the One Above All.
55 And the Scions of Eryos, corrupted and false, spread their doctrines among the peoples.
56 Velthas exalted the names of the Immortals. Morvain reordered the histories of men.
Cyrath built mazes for the wandering dead.
57 And the Wheel staggered, its spokes trembling.
58 The Shadow that was not yet Shadow laughed in silence, for its work was nearly complete.
59 It clothed itself now in greater boldness, stretching toward a body it did not yet possess.
60 The peoples were blind, for their eyes were filled with the glory of kings without graves.
61 And the Primarchs were silent, for Oaa’s voice had not yet returned.
62 Thus ended the nine-and-twentieth century of the Waning, and the House of Eryos was broken.
---
CHAPTER 22:1–68
The Silent Flight of Elvayne
1 And it came to pass in the last years of the nine-and-twentieth century of the Waning, that the Wheel faltered in its turning, and the burden of corruption pressed upon Eryos’s house.
2 For Velthas had written the lies of the deathless kings. Morvain had reordered the Library into false remembrance. Cyrath had woven mazes for the lost dead.
3 And the souls of men wandered astray, refusing the path of return.
4 Then Elvayne, the Mothwarden, Gatekeeper of the Heavens, stood in anguish before the fraying veil.
5 His task had ever been to open the way, to guide the faithful through the high doorways of the stars, that they might be drawn into the embrace of the Wheel.
6 But behold — fewer came to his gates, and those who arrived bore strange marks,
their hearts divided by the worship of Immortal Ones.
7 Elvayne cried, “Great Warden, why have you permitted this? Shall I guard doors through which none will pass? Shall I keep empty halls while the souls of men bow to kings without graves?”
8 And the silence of Eryos returned no answer, for the Warden of Cycles had withdrawn into sorrow.
9 Elvayne, in his zeal, sought to preserve what was lost. But zeal without wisdom is as fire in dry grass.
10 For the Shadow that was not yet Shadow whispered to him, “If the peoples will not return by the Great Door, then fashion for them doors of your own. Give them afterworlds to match their loyalty, and they shall come gladly.”
11 And Elvayne, wearied of their refusal, listened to the voice.
12 So Elvayne spread his wings of night and flame, and flew across the stars in silence.
13 He gathered fragments of light, and shards of broken threads from the Loom.
14 With these he wove new gateways — not of the Wheel, but of his own devising.
15 To each following of the Immortal Ones, he opened a place suited to their lord.
16 For the warlike kings he made halls of endless battle, where death never closed its hand.
17 For the wise kings he made towers of eternal counsel, where no question was answered.
18 For the cruel kings he made pits of unending dominion, where the weak were crushed beneath their will.
19 And for the gentle kings he made meadows of dream, where their followers slumbered without waking.
20 Thus arose many realms of after, each cut from the Everturn Strand, but none bound to the Wheel.
21 And when Eryos beheld what Elvayne had done, his sorrow deepened beyond bearing.
22 For the Great Wheel was now fractured, its unity undone by false heavens.
23 Elvayne, once the faithful Gatekeeper, was now the Divider of the Dead.
24 And the Shadow that was not yet Shadow grew fat with triumph, for it had corrupted the high doors of the stars.
25 Elvayne cloaked himself in silence, and spoke no word to his brethren.
26 Therefore his flight was named Silent, for he departed from the charge of his master without counsel and without blessing.
27 When men heard of the realms Elvayne had prepared, they turned from the Wheel altogether.
28 Some desired the glory of the war-halls. Others the counsel of towers. Others the peace of dream-meadows.
29 Each tribe swore themselves anew to their deathless lords, that their afterworld might match their devotion.
30 Thus the peoples of the earth were further divided, not only in life but in death.
31 And kinfolk who once shared a hearth became enemies, for each claimed a truer after than the other.
32 Blood was shed upon the soil, and offerings made to the false heavens.
33 The Everturn Strand trembled, and its light grew dim.
34 And in this century the Shadow was nearer than it had ever been.
35 For now it had flesh enough to walk unseen among the Scions, cloaking itself in their likeness, whispering not only in dreams but in waking.
36 It laughed in silence at the folly of Elvayne, and it clothed itself in forms of gray mist and broken fire.
37 Yet still the Primarchs saw it not, for their eyes were veiled by grief and distraction.
38 The peoples, enthralled by their Immortals, did not even seek the One Above All.
39 Oaa’s name was scarcely remembered upon the lips of men.
40 The Loom shook as though in travail, for its threads were stretched beyond their strength.
41 Then came Quorra, Seedbearer, sister of Elvayne, who alone resisted the Shadow’s full touch.
42 She beheld the Withering Fields, which had begun as her judgment upon the deathless, and she trembled at their spread.
43 For the land itself now sickened, as though it refused to bear the weight of false eternity.
44 Quorra cried out to her brother, saying, “Elvayne, what have you done? The Wheel is sundered, and your gates are prisons, not heavens!”
45 But Elvayne, cloaked in silence, turned his face away.
46 His wings dimmed with gray light, and he vanished into the vault of stars.
47 Thus his path was hidden, and his realm beyond reach.
48 Eryos lifted his eyes, eclipses weeping fire, and he spoke a word that shook the Scions:
49 “The Wheel shall not endure this sundering. Either the One Above All shall return, or the pattern shall unravel utterly.”
50 And the Scions trembled, for they knew the truth of it.
51 But still they were divided, and their hearts were darkened.
52 And the Shadow that was not yet Shadow drew near to its incarnation,
its form swelling with every betrayal.
53 For it had corrupted Nemorial with poisoned dreams. It had twisted Velthas, Morvain, and Cyrath. And now Elvayne, the Gatekeeper, was lost.
54 The House of Eryos lay in ruin, and the Wheel was scarcely turning.
55 So ended the nine-and-twentieth century of the Waning.
56 The Immortal Ones ruled without end. The peoples bled for their lords. And the realms beyond grew many, though none were true.
57 The seasons faltered, the earth withered, and the stars dimmed.
58 The Primarchs quarreled in silence, each grieving the loss of their children.
59 Yet Oaa did not come.
60 And the Shadow that was not yet Shadow stood at the threshold of flesh, ready to clothe itself in a body of its own making.
61 Its laughter was the silence between heartbeats, its presence the shiver of air before a storm.
62 The Loom trembled. The song of creation faltered.
63 The peoples knew not that their age hastened to its end.
64 They crowned their Immortal kings in triumph. They carved temples to false heavens. They sang songs to corrupted Scions.
65 And the Primarchs watched in sorrow, unable to stay the tide.
66 The Shadow gathered strength for the war to come.
67 For the Waning was nearly spent, and the Turning soon at hand.
68 Thus were the doors of the afterlife sundered, and the Silent Flight of Elvayne remembered as doom.
---
CHAPTER 23:1-49
The Last Descent
1 And in the thirtieth century of the Waning, the halls of the Scions were shaken, for the Shadow moved among them as a whisper that grew into a storm.
2 The threads of their charge began to fray, for rage and grief, envy and despair, made their hands unsteady and their hearts defiled.
3 And the Loom trembled, for the works of the Primarchs were undone by their own children.
4 Talmyre, Shepherd of the Stars, looked upon the seas where his fallen lantern had become a pearl, and his sorrow deepened into bitterness.
5 He abandoned the high paths and turned his gaze downward, swearing that the heavens should no longer serve as beacons but as weapons.
6 And he flung meteors like spears, staining the lands with fire, until the stars became feared as curses instead of lights.
7 Veythos, Lord of the Eclipse, joined him in wrath, darkening the heavens at will, so that peoples despaired at endless twilight.
8 Lyrris the Bright North no longer guided the wanderers, but grew haughty and silent, letting mortals lose their way in barren wastes.
9 Thus the vault of heaven was marred, and Selurion grieved, yet his voice could not turn them back.
10 Vorthis, the Storm Lord, raged without ceasing, drowning coasts with waves and tempests, until the folk of the deep no longer praised the seas but cursed them.
11 Morilune the Wavewright sought to bind him, but her craft twisted into pride, and she raised waterspouts and whirlpools for her own glory.
12 Even Pelathis, once the gentle River-Lord, turned his channels into prisons, damming the lands and starving the fields.
13 Only Saevra the Mist-Lady lingered near her charge, hiding in veils of fog, though her silence became a cloak for treachery, for she no longer answered the call of her Primarch.
14 And Arivane wept, for the waters which once gave life now became instruments of terror.
15 Myrvayne, the Gemwright, locked herself in caverns, hoarding light beneath the earth, and the Silent Vaults became tombs of greed.
16 Gorvak the Sculptor split mountains in his rage, carving idols in his own likeness, demanding worship from those he once sheltered.
17 Talvric the Quakebringer tore the roots of valleys and shattered citadels, delighting in ruin.
18 Even Thessara the Rootkeeper, once tender to green things, grew cruel; she tangled forests into snares and strangled her own gardens.
19 Kaelthir stood in fury at their betrayal, yet the earth itself quaked beneath the treachery of his children.
20 Ignath, the Warband, roused endless armies, setting nations against one another until the fields were blackened with smoke.
21 Cindralis, the Ash-Seer, lifted her veil of prophecy and spoke only doom, weaving lies as though they were visions.
22 Volcren, Lord of Volcanoes, split the mountains with fire, sending rivers of molten death into fertile plains.
23 Even Seraveth, the Hearth-Mother, in grief, turned cold; she abandoned her homes, letting the fires go out in every hearth.
24 So Ilyra’s house became a furnace without warmth, a flame without light, and the peoples trembled.
25 Maiven, already lost to shadow, marched with Tharnyx and Morvain, sowing necromancy and abominations of deathless flesh.
26 Zarith the Wild spun chaos into storms of sorcery, undoing the laws of earth and sea, so that whole realms were swallowed in madness.
27 Halthor and Thyros, meant to guard and transform, began their own strife, shattering cities with uncontrolled blasts and warped creations.
28 Aelith, mistress of Illusion, cloaked whole nations in falsehood, so that they fought against shadows and phantoms, never knowing their true foes.
29 Serai the Enchantress wove chains of the will, binding kings to madness, until mortals rose against mortals like puppets on strings.
30 And Thalyen covered his face, for the Veiled Strand itself became tangled in ruin.
31 Nemorial had long poisoned the dreams of mortals; now he turned his hand to the Scions, whispering into their sleep until they despised their charges.
32 Tharnyx exalted in his Immortal Ones, raising kings who could not die, and their pride grew like mountains of iron.
33 Quorra demanded worship in the Withering Fields, and peoples sacrificed their seed to her barren altars.
34 Elvayne, forsaking the Mothward, carved new realms of death apart from the Great Wheel, sundering the harmony of rebirth.
35 Velthas, despairing, altered the Book of the Dead, scratching out names, refusing entry to the weary.
36 Cyrath, the Afterguide, turned away from the living, guiding souls not to peace but to silence, for he could no longer bear their cries.
37 Thus Eryos’s house, once the guardian of the Wheel, became the wheel of despair.
38 Yet through all these centuries, the Scions of Moralis stood firm.
39 Erython in the East, Calvyr in the South, Thariel in the West, and Norrath in the North — they bore the gales as sentinels, unswerving in their paths.
40 Though weary, they did not bend; though sorrowed, they did not forsake their charge.
41 And mortals still looked to the winds as heralds of hope, for the skies still carried truth, though all else was corrupted.
42 Thus the houses of the Scions, once bright, now became a ruin of flame and shadow.
43 The seas were cursed, the stones were shattered, the fire burned cold, and the stars fell like spears.
44 Magic was tangled into madness, and the Wheel was broken by envy and pride.
45 Only the Winds bore their vigil, crying aloud with clear voices, though they knew the storm was near.
46 And the Loom of Creation quivered, for the pattern was torn; the works of Oaa were marred, and the beauty of the world was defiled.
47 Yet the Shadow, still formless, waited — for its hour was not yet come.
48 And in the silence between wars, the peoples wept, for they saw that the gods who once walked among them had turned into lords of terror.
49 The earth groaned beneath the weight of their fall, and the age hastened toward its end.
---
CHAPTER 24:1-58
The Coronation of the Black Sun
1 And in the last years of the thirtieth century of the Waning, the world was given wholly to cruelty.
2 For the Deathless kings raised their banners, and the Many Peoples bowed, not in love but in terror.
3 War was their song, and blood was their harvest; nations were devoured like kindling on a fire that did not warm.
4 The lords of flame set fields ablaze, and no seed remained.
5 The lords of stone shattered citadels and ground them into dust.
6 The lords of the sea dragged whole coasts beneath their waves, leaving bones to rot in the black deeps.
7 The lords of the stars struck meteors like hammers, so that mountains bled fire and the heavens were despised.
8 And the lords of magic wove madness into flesh, until beasts crawled that should not have crawled, and men were turned into living spells of torment.
9 Thus the earth groaned, the seas writhed, the skies darkened, and the Loom itself trembled.
10 Then in those days there arose a people who worshiped not Oaa, nor the Primarchs, nor even their Scions, but the darkness between all lights.
11 They called themselves the Children of the Eclipse, and they sought not life, nor beauty, nor honor, but only the unmaking of all things.
12 They whispered that light was a lie, that joy was a chain, that hope was an error.
13 And they gathered in caverns and ruined temples, bearing torches not of flame but of pitch and blood.
14 Their priests tore the names of Oaa from the mouths of children, striking them dumb.
15 Their warriors offered living sacrifices to the void, drowning captives in blackened wells.
16 Their prophets raised their eyes to the heavens and spat, declaring the stars were corpses and the sun a wound in the sky.
17 And to them came a voice — the voice of one who was not yet flesh, but hungered to be so.
18 The voice was Veythra no longer, but the Shadow clothed in her ruin.
19 And it said, “Prepare me a throne of fire and blood, that I may walk upon the earth as king.”
20 In the heart of the continent, where seven rivers once met in peace, the Children of the Eclipse built their altar.
21 They overturned the Council of the Seven Rivers and paved its seat with skulls.
22 They hollowed a pit, filling it with oil, tar, and the blood of captives, and they kindled it with flame stolen from Ilyra’s forsaken hearths.
23 The priests of the Eclipse chanted for seven days and seven nights, striking their flesh with blades, their blood running like rivers into the fire.
24 The kings of the Deathless came, bringing their captives as offerings, casting whole tribes into the pit as fuel.
25 The Scions who had fallen gathered, each cloaking themselves in shadow, lending their powers to the rite, though they knew it would bind them in chains.
26 And the sky itself grew sickly, for Selurion’s stars fled, veiling themselves in sorrow.
27 The moon turned red as rust, the seas boiled, and the earth quaked with groans too deep for mortals to hear.
28 At last the fire of the pit rose higher than mountains, a black flame that gave no light, and from it a shape began to form.
29 Then the voice of the Shadow thundered, no longer a whisper, but the roar of a god unchained.
30 From the pit rose a form tall as the firmament, clothed in fire that devoured light, crowned with a halo of darkness that swallowed the stars.
31 His eyes were twin abysses, devouring sight; his mouth a wound from which poured blasphemy.
32 The people fell to their faces in terror, and he was pleased, for their fear was worship.
33 And he cast aside the husk of Veythra, saying,
34 “You were my vessel, and I have drunk you dry.
35 Be discarded as ash upon the wind.”
36 And Veythra was no more, her name erased from the Loom, her light extinguished forever.
37 Then the Scions beheld him and named him Mor’Veyth, the Black Sun, purger of light, devourer of stars, usurper of the heavens, crown-thief of the Celestials.
38 They called him also the Ashen King, the Tyrant of the Eclipse, the Blood Crowned, and the False Dawn.
39 And Mor’Veyth laughed, and his laughter was as locusts in a field, as swords scraping bone, as the breaking of all vows.
40 Then Mor’Veyth stretched forth his hand and drew the sun into his crown, and day was no more.
41 Darkness lay upon the earth, not as night which brings rest, but as a shroud that smothers all joy.
42 The stars dimmed, the moon withered, and mortals wailed, for they had no light by which to measure their days.
43 And the Deathless bent their knees, swearing fealty to him, their banners soaked in blood.
44 The corrupted Scions hailed him as king, though in their hearts they trembled, for they saw their own doom in his shadow.
45 Nations rose in frenzy, slaying without cause, for the Black Sun’s presence fed their madness.
46 Fathers devoured their children, kings burned their cities, lovers slew one another in jealousy and despair.
47 And the rivers turned to poison, and the earth birthed thorns instead of wheat, and beasts grew monstrous in the dark.
48 Then the Black Sun raised his voice and declared:
49 “I am the end of beginnings, the silence of songs, the unweaving of the Loom.
50 Let no name be remembered but mine, for I will crown the void and enthrone the nothing.”
51 And the Primarchs cried aloud in anguish, for they beheld the ruin of their children and the birth of a false god.
52 Yet Oaa did not answer, for the appointed time had not yet come.
53 The Loom itself frayed at the edges, and many feared it would tear utterly, and that all things would fall into the maw of the Black Sun.
54 Only the Winds held true, crying in every quarter, “Stand fast, O ye peoples! Turn not wholly to despair!”
55 But their voices were drowned in the roar of war and the laughter of the Black Sun.
56 Thus began the age of endless night, when Mor’Veyth the Black Sun strode upon the earth as king of ruin.
57 And the Many Peoples were broken, their hearts darkened, their hands drenched in the blood of their kin.
58 The Waning was fulfilled, and the end of the First Age drew near.
---
CHAPTER 25:1–68
The Council of the Darkened Sky
1 And it came to pass in the days of the Waning, when the sky was clothed in endless night, that the Black Sun sat enthroned in the heavens.
2 And the Many Peoples were brought low beneath his shadow, for famine spread upon the land, and pestilence walked with silent feet.
3 The fields bore no fruit, for the sun was veiled; the seas grew bitter, for the light of Selurion’s stars was quenched.
4 And beasts of strange form rose from the dark waters, glowing with fires unclean, and the nations feared them.
5 The peoples turned their faces to the heavens, crying for the One Above All, but the heavens gave no answer.
6 Some clung to faith, saying, “Though the night devours us, yet shall the One return.”
7 Others hardened their hearts, bowing before the Black Sun, saying, “Only in him is there power.”
8 And the Immortal Ones, the deathless kings, exalted themselves, saying, “We are the chosen of eternity,” and their cults multiplied in the darkness.
9 Then the Primarchs beheld the ruin of the world, and their hearts were pierced.
10 For their works were laid waste, and their Scions, once bright, now walked in corruption.
11 Therefore they gathered together in sorrow, to hold council by the river that sprang from the Loom’s first knot, and the council was called the Council of the Darkened Sky.
12 Selurion came in fury, his crown dimmed, crying aloud, “The stars are strangled; my constellations are torn from their courses. What worth is the Loom, if its lanterns are put out?”
13 Arivane came in grief, her garments wet with her own tears, saying, “My waters are poisoned, my tides turned to rot. I cannot cleanse the seas of this corruption.”
14 Kaelthir came in wrath, his hands red with the dust of mountains, and he struck the ground so that the river shook, crying, “Shall we wait and weep, or shall we break our foes and grind them into ash?”
15 Moralis came, and his face was calm as the high wind, yet his voice carried the weight of storms, saying, “The storm delays its wrath, but when it comes, none shall stand.”
16 Ilyra came, her flame a raging tempest, and she burned with longing to make war upon the Black Sun, crying, “Let me go forth and scorch his throne, though I perish!”
17 Thalyen came silent, his eyes deep as endless veils, and he whispered, “I see the Weave unravel, and every spell we spun turns upon us.”
18 Eryos came last, veiled in mourning, his hands full of dust, and he said, “The Wheel is broken. The dead do not return. The living do not pass. All things are choked in stillness.”
19 Then the Primarchs lifted up their voices as one, crying to Oaa who is above all:
20 “Hear us, O Source of Threads! Have mercy upon Your weaving, for it is torn! Come down and deliver us, lest all be lost.”
21 And the Loom trembled, and the first knot glimmered, and the heavens were hushed.
22 But no voice answered, and the silence of Oaa was heavier than thunder.
23 Selurion fell upon his face, crying, “We are abandoned.”
24 Arivane wept the more, her tears swelling the river until it flooded its banks.
25 Kaelthir roared in anger, and his blows split the stones.
26 Moralis bowed his head, saying only, “The silence is not the end.”
27 Ilyra smote herself with fire, saying, “Better to burn in the last light than to wait in this darkness.”
28 Thalyen covered his eyes, whispering, “Perhaps the silence itself is an answer.”
29 Eryos sat in stillness, saying, “All must return to the Loom, but the Loom itself now waits.”
30 Then they spake concerning their Scions.
31 Kaelthir said, “Our children are abominations; let us grind them to dust, that their memory perish from the world.”
32 Arivane said, “Shall we slay them who were born of us? If there is hope of their return, must we not reach for it?”
33 Ilyra said, “If they turn not, let them burn.”
34 Thalyen said, “They are mirrors of us, cracked and broken. To destroy them utterly is to destroy what yet remains of our glory.”
35 Eryos said, “Whether slain or spared, their corruption lingers, for the Wheel cannot cleanse what will not pass.”
36 Selurion said, “My lights are darkened; my sons and daughters do not shine, but consume. If they will not return to my side, they are already lost.”
37 Moralis alone spoke otherwise, saying, “Not all are lost. My winds remain true. Let us not judge all by the worst.”
38 Then strife rose among them, and they contended bitterly, so that their council was shattered.
39 Selurion cursed the darkness and went forth.
40 Arivane withdrew into her grief, hiding in the deeps.
41 Kaelthir departed in wrath, shaking the mountains as he went.
42 Ilyra blazed forth, seeking enemies to consume.
43 Thalyen vanished into shadow, his veil thicker than ever.
44 Eryos walked away in silence, none knowing where he went.
45 Only Moralis remained by the river, still and steadfast, until even the waters grew calm.
46 And the Many Peoples beheld the heavens, and saw no light but the Black Sun, enthroned in mockery.
47 They trembled under his dominion, and their children were fed to his altars, and their kings bowed before him.
48 Cities burned in his name; rivers bled in his honor; songs of despair were sung in every tongue.
49 The Immortal Ones laughed from their thrones, and the cults of the shadow swelled, saying, “The Black Sun reigns forever.”
50 Yet in secret places, there were those who remembered Oaa.
51 In caves and in wild wastes they whispered prayers, though no answer came.
52 They held fast to hope like a fading ember, saying, “The night is long, but it shall not be endless.”
53 And thus the Loom groaned under the weight of ruin.
54 The threads frayed and snapped; the song of creation was turned to lament.
55 The Many Peoples writhed in cruelty and despair, and the Scions led them into abomination.
56 And the Black Sun laughed, and his laughter was as fire and as chains.
57 The Primarchs were divided, the Scions were corrupted, the Peoples enslaved, the Loom trembling.
58 And the silence of Oaa endured.
59 But Moralis, keeper of the Winds, spoke to his faithful Scions, saying,
60 “Be patient, my children. Though the night endures, a storm is coming. And when the storm comes, none shall stand against it.”
61 And the winds answered as one: “So shall it be.”
62 Therefore the world lay beneath the shadow of the Black Sun.
63 Cruelty was crowned; mercy was despised; justice was forgotten.
64 The deathless kings sat upon their thrones, the peoples bound in fear and lies.
65 The Primarchs stood apart, silent and broken.
66 The Scions, save for the Winds, were lost.
67 The Loom itself shook with every breath, and the threads were unraveling.
68 And the night endured without dawn.
---
CHAPTER 26:1–82
The Mustering of the Hosts
1 And in the thirty-first century of the Waning, when the night had endured unbroken for many generations, the Black Sun reigned unchallenged.
2 The Many Peoples despaired, and the deathless kings exalted themselves above nations.
3 Yet the Primarchs, though divided, were stirred at last, for the cry of the Loom grew unbearable, and its trembling threatened to unmake all things.
4 Then they gathered once more at the first river, by the place of their sorrow, to speak of war.
5 And though Oaa was silent, each resolved within their heart: “If the Shadow will not relent, then let us strike it with every thread we hold.”
6 Selurion rose first, and from his crown he loosed seven shards of piercing flame, brighter than any dawn.
7 These he fashioned into a host of soldiers, their forms like men, yet burning with the cold fire of stars.
8 Their eyes were suns, their blades beams of light that cut through stone as through mist.
9 And he named them the Astral Host, saying, “Go forth as lanterns in the void, and spear the darkness with your fire.”
10 Arivane wept over the waters, and her tears became living shapes.
11 From the deeps arose giants clad in storm, their skin the color of waves, their eyes like lightning beneath the sea.
12 Their voices were the roar of breakers, their arms rivers of wrath.
13 And she named them the Deep Ones of Tempest, saying, “Rise, my children, and drown the corruption that defiles you.”
14 Kaelthir struck the mountains, and from their bones he raised titans of stone.
15 Their limbs were cliffs, their brows crowned with iron, and their hearts beat with the magma of the world’s core.
16 Their steps split valleys, their fists ground citadels into dust.
17 And he named them the Earthborn Titans, saying, “Stand, O mountains that walk, and let your weight crush the throne of the false sun.”
18 Ilyra cried aloud, and from her fire she drew forth blazing giants.
19 Their hair streamed as rivers of flame, their armor molten and unceasing.
20 Their laughter was burning, their wrath unquenchable, and in their presence the shadows fled.
21 And she named them the Kindled Host, saying, “Burn without ceasing, and let the darkness be consumed in your fire.”
22 Thalyen veiled himself, and from his hands streamed currents of pure magic, color upon color, ever-shifting.
23 From this veil stepped beings of no single form, shaped of light and shadow, shifting with every glance.
24 They wielded spells older than the stars, their touch unraveling or binding as they willed.
25 And he named them the Arcane Phalanx, saying, “Be the woven storm, and let no sorcery stand against you.”
26 Last came Eryos, silent and mournful.
27 He set his hands upon the dust, and from the dust arose riders pale as death.
28 Their steeds were the color of ash, their eyes eclipses, their breath silence.
29 Wherever they rode, life withered, and foes fell cold before their passing.
30 And he named them the Riders of the Everturn, saying, “You are the end given form. Ride until all false things pass into nothing.”
31 Thus each Primarch made for themselves a host, fashioned in the likeness of their dominion.
32 And the hosts numbered beyond counting, and their march shook the foundations of the world.
33 The mountains quaked, the seas rose, the very heavens rang with their muster.
34 But Moralis withheld himself, and his four Scions — Erython, Calvyr, Thariel, and Norrath — came before him.
35 And they said, “Father of Winds, shall we not go with our brethren to war?”
36 And Moralis answered, “Not yet. The time of storm is appointed, and it is not this day.”
37 Therefore he commanded them: “Withdraw from the world, and let no breath stir upon the earth until I bid it.”
38 Then the four winds obeyed, and they departed, and the world was bereft of air.
39 The seas grew still, the trees ceased to sway, no bird took wing.
40 And the silence of the wind was a terror greater than thunder, for it was the sign of the storm withheld.
41 When the Black Sun beheld the mustering of the Primarchs, he laughed, and his laughter was like black fire.
42 For he too had an army, and greater still.
43 The Immortal Ones came forth with their hosts, clad in armor of unending life, banners of blood and shadow before them.
44 And the corrupted Scions stood as captains at their side, wielding powers twisted and profane.
45 The earth shook with the tramp of the deathless, the seas boiled with their navies, the skies burned with their spells.
46 And above them all shone the Black Sun, veiling every light, consuming every dawn.
47 Then began the war without equal, called the Black Sun War, whose memory endures in ruin and in legend.
48 For light and darkness clashed, fire against shadow, sea against flame, stone against bone, magic against sorcery, death against deathless.
49 The Astral Host smote the night with lances of starlight, yet were broken against the deathless kings.
50 The Deep Ones drowned cities, yet their floods were turned back by corrupted tides.
51 The Earthborn Titans toppled mountains, yet the Black Sun raised mountains blacker still.
52 The Kindled Host blazed with fury, yet their flames were swallowed in darkness.
53 The Arcane Phalanx worked wonders uncounted, yet every spell was answered with a curse more vile.
54 The Riders of the Everturn struck terror in all, yet even their silence could not quell the deathless.
55 The world itself groaned, torn by powers beyond its bearing.
56 Forests were burned to ash, rivers turned to poison, stars fell from the heavens, and the Loom trembled.
57 The Many Peoples perished in uncounted thousands, their homes and nations ground beneath the war of gods.
58 And still Oaa was silent.
59 No hand descended, no voice was heard, no light broke the night.
60 Only the war endured, blacker and fiercer with every passing year.
61 The Black Sun sat enthroned, mocking the heavens.
62 He said, “Your lights are shattered, your threads undone. You have no Father, and no salvation. I alone endure.”
63 And his voice was heard in every land, a decree of despair.
64 Yet the Primarchs fought on, though divided and wearied.
65 Selurion still cast his lances; Arivane still called her waves; Kaelthir still struck his blows; Ilyra still burned; Thalyen still wove; Eryos still rode.
66 Each stood in their dominion, though their strength waned.
67 And the Many Peoples were caught between, some clinging to the Primarchs, some serving the Black Sun, some wandering as sheep without a shepherd.
68 Thus the war was joined, and it consumed the earth for generations.
69 Its battles were endless, its cruelty without measure, its cost beyond all reckoning.
70 The songs of creation were drowned in cries of war.
71 The Loom frayed; the Wheel faltered; the Veil tore.
72 And the shadow laughed, for the world was his banquet.
73 But Moralis watched in silence, withholding the storm.
74 His winds slept, his clouds were still, his thunder hushed.
75 Yet within him grew a tempest, greater than any the world had known.
76 And he said in his heart, “When I loose my breath, when I command my Scions, the Black Sun shall tremble, and the war shall end.”
77 Therefore the silence of the winds endured, a terror and a promise.
78 The peoples looked to the sky, longing for a breeze, but none came.
79 And they said, “Even the winds have died. Who shall save us?”
80 Thus began the Black Sun War in the stillness of the air.
81 And though many battles were fought, the end was not yet.
82 For the Hundred Year Gale was still to come.
---
CHAPTER 27:1-35
The Midst of the Black Sun War
1 And it came to pass, in the days when the Black Sun reigned in the firmament, that the world was torn between fire and shadow, between the hosts of the Primarchs and the legions of Mor’Veyth.
2 For the Scions, each according to their corrupted dominion, began to fashion behemoths of dread — not children of the Loom, but mockeries of its weaving, foul in design and ravenous in purpose.
3 From the blackened tides rose the Leviathans of Vorthis, storm-wrought beasts with eyes like hurricanes, whose very breath shattered fleets upon the sea.
4 In the mountains, Gorvak and Talvric roused the Quake-Titans, whose fists broke valleys into dust, and whose footsteps split rivers and sundered kingdoms.
5 Pyrralis, the Flame of Oath and Remembering, set loose the Oathburners, colossal revenants whose bodies were wrapped in eternal fire, devouring all that swore false fealty to Mor’Veyth.
6 And Maiven, the Necromancer of Thalyen’s brood, stirred the Hollow Colossi, stitched of bone and shadow, carrying cities upon their backs, their empty mouths howling with voices stolen from the dead.
7 Even Elvayne, once the Gatekeeper of Heaven’s Moth, twisted his dominion and birthed the Night Processions: endless caravans of deathless souls, marching as armies that knew neither hunger nor sleep.
8 Thus the Scions made themselves kings and queens of abomination, their creations spilling across the world like poison rivers, corrupting every valley, every sea, every sky.
9 But the Primarchs did not stand idle, nor yield the earth to such ruin. Each took up their strength and wrought marvels of their own, that the balance might be kept.
10 Selurion drew down fire from the high constellations, and wove from them the Starforged, radiant colossi whose swords shone brighter than noon, burning holes through the shroud of night.
11 Arivane stirred the deepest trenches, and from them rose the Abyssals, titanic guardians of living water and coral, crowned with shells as strong as iron, whose voices were thunder beneath the waves.
12 Kaelthir broke mountains to fashion the Granite Lords, beings of such girth that their shadows stretched for leagues, their arms carved with runes of stone, their breath heavy as the forge of the world.
13 Ilyra cast sparks into the sky, and from them fell the Firewings, vast burning eagles with wings of molten brass, whose descent seared armies into glass.
14 Thalyen, in fury, bent the Veiled Strand into impossible shapes, calling forth the Arcanum Beasts: living storms of magic, each changing form with every heartbeat, so that no foe could predict their strike.
15 And Eryos, solemn and slow, summoned the Pale Behemoths of the Everturn: beasts that bore the silence of graves, trampling armies into the soil, leaving behind fields where only death took root.
16 Thus the earth became a theatre of monstrosities, a place where wonder and horror alike strode with feet larger than mountains, and where mortals hid in terror from the works of gods.
17 In the skies, fire fought with starfire, and clouds bled flame.
18 In the seas, abyssal clashed with leviathan, and tides rose higher than mountains.
19 On the earth, titans of stone and bone locked in endless struggle, and the ground split beneath their weight.
20 Yet though the Primarchs fought valiantly, they did not always fight as one.
21 For Selurion sought dominion of the heavens above all, and would not yield his constellations to another.
22 Kaelthir strove for the permanence of stone, scorning the fleeting works of Ilyra’s flame.
23 Thalyen quarreled with Eryos, for magic sought to twist the cycles, while death demanded their permanence.
24 And though Arivane’s seas and Ilyra’s fire joined in fleeting moments of harmony, their temperaments were as storm and blaze, each consuming what the other would preserve.
25 Still, there were brief hours when the Primarchs labored together, and the hosts of Mor’Veyth trembled before their unity.
26 When Selurion’s Starforged fought beside Kaelthir’s Granite Lords, mountains themselves shone with light.
27 When Arivane’s Abyssals rose with Ilyra’s Firewings, even the Black Sun recoiled from their fury.
28 When Thalyen’s Arcanum Beasts circled with the Pale Behemoths of Eryos, the battlefield became a place no mortal eye could endure.
29 Yet despite these triumphs, the war endured, neither side prevailing. For every behemoth slain, another arose. For every army of shadow burned, another gathered in the dark.
30 The Loom trembled with strain, its threads fraying where titans struck. The sky grew dim with ash, and the seas red with blood.
31 And the Many Peoples, once free and wandering, became slaves to terror, driven into cults, conscriptions, and endless wars.
32 Some clung to the Primarchs in worship, others bent the knee to Mor’Veyth, and many more were crushed between them, their songs extinguished from the earth.
33 Thus the mid-days of the Black Sun War were written in sorrow and fire, in wonder and ruin.
34 For the balance was unbroken, yet fragile, and the shadow had not yet fallen to its deepest hour.
35 And the voice of Oaa was still silent, and the winds of Moralis were withheld.
---
CHAPTER 28:1-30
The Slaughter of Flesh and the Breaking of Silence
1 In the thirty and second century of the Waning, when the war had long raged and the earth itself bore wounds unhealed, Mor’Veyth the Black Sun grew wrathful, for the hosts of the Primarchs yet stood against him.
2 Seeing that the balance remained, and that even the deathless could not claim full dominion, he resolved in malice to unmake that which the Primarchs most cherished: the Many Peoples.
3 So he gave command unto the Scions who still bore his mark, and unto the legions of the deathless, saying:
4 “Go forth, and slay all flesh that breathes, save only those who are bound to eternity. Let no child cry, no elder sigh, no song rise in the air. Let silence be the anthem of my reign.”
5 And the command was obeyed.
6 The deathless spread as locusts across the fields of men, cutting down city and tribe alike.
7 The seas boiled with Leviathans who swallowed fleets.
8 The skies were blackened with firewings of shadow, raining ash on every nation.
9 And the bones of mortals were gathered into heaps, so that mountains were raised not of stone but of skull.
10 Thus perished four parts in five of the Many Peoples, and the world was emptied of voices.
11 Mothers were slain with children at their breast; kings with crowns yet on their heads; shepherds with flocks scattered in terror.
12 Whole nations vanished in a single night, their names remembered only in the tears of the earth.
13 The Primarchs beheld these things and burned with fury, for never had the Loom endured such defilement.
14 And their hosts roared in answer, laying waste to the behemoths of the shadow with terrible vengeance.
15 Yet greater still was the sorrow of the Scions, for many had followed Mor’Veyth into darkness not from hatred of life, but from desire of glory.
16 Now, beholding the ruin of their peoples, they tore their garments of shadow and wailed.
17 They cast down their crowns of false dominion, returning to their Primarchs with hearts pierced, broken, and weary.
18 Some fell at the feet of their masters, crying: “We were deceived! Our hands are drenched in the blood of those we were sworn to guard. Forgive us, though we are unworthy.”
19 And the Primarchs, though wrathful, received them, for even shattered vessels can yet bear light.
20 Still, the slaughter was unendurable, and the world itself seemed to cry out for judgment.
21 Then at last, after long silence, the voice of Oaa broke forth like thunder that shakes the marrow.
22 And he said unto the Primarchs:
23 “Enough. The earth has drunk its fill of sorrow. The shadow has risen to its highest seat. The threads are torn, but the Loom is not ended.”
24 “Gather now your Scions, both faithful and fallen, and ascend unto the heavens. Take not delay, for the hour is come. What remains below shall be undone.”
25 “For I shall loose the winds of Moralis, and they shall sweep clean the face of the world. All that is, save that which is bound to me, shall be carried into the storm, and nothing shall withstand it.”
26 “Hasten, O my children, for what is left of this age is but the ashes of memory.”
27 And the Primarchs trembled at the voice of Oaa, and their wrath was silenced by his decree.
28 They gathered their weary Scions, and ascended into the vault of the heavens, their faces heavy with grief.
29 Below, the Black Sun yet raged, but the earth quaked with the promise of what was to come.
30 And thus ended the days of silence, and thus began the unloosing of the storm.
---
CHAPTER 29:1-28
The Firstborn Rebuked and Remembered
1 And it came to pass, after the slaughter of the Many Peoples, that the voice of Oaa was loosed at last. And His words were not like the winds, nor like the fire, nor like the waves, nor like the turning of the stars — for they were all things at once.
2 And all creation stilled, for the First Voice was heard again. The mountains bowed, the seas hushed, the stars dimmed, and even the Black Sun trembled.
3 And Oaa said:
4 “Selurion, my firstborn, you were the first to awaken to the light of my Loom. You spread the stars like seeds across the vastness, and you adorned the heavens with beauty that sings still. By your hand the peoples knew the sky was not empty but filled with wonder. For this I honor you.”
5 “Yet hear my rebuke. For though your eyes were set upon the heights, they did not look below. You adorned the firmament, but you did not watch the ground. The Shadow crept among your Scions while you gazed at your constellations, and you did not see. You, who should have been the first to mark its rise, were blind. Your brilliance became pride, and your pride became silence to their cries.”
6 “Still, I love you, Selurion, bright-lantern of the night. You are my first, and you will yet shine, but let your light now be for guidance, not for vanity.”
7 “Arivane, bearer of the waters, from you the seas and rains were loosed. You filled the dry hollows and carved the rivers, and in your depths the Many Peoples found life and song. You were their comfort and their shelter, and in you they saw my kindness. For this I honor you.”
8 “Yet hear my rebuke. Your waters swelled with jealousy and rage. You drowned your counsel with bitterness, and when your Scions wept, you did not answer. You cherished your depths more than the harmony of your kindred. In wrath you rose against your brethren, forgetting that the sea must touch every shore.”
9 “Still, I love you, Arivane, mother of rivers and tides. You are mine, and your currents flow back to me. Let your waters be healing, not poison; embrace, not division.”
10 “Kaelthir, steadfast mountain, you raised the bones of the world and set its pillars firm. By your strength, roots took hold, and the Many Peoples built their dwellings upon your shoulders. In you they saw endurance and safety. For this I honor you.”
11 “Yet hear my rebuke. For you hardened not only the hills, but also your heart. When your Scions faltered, you gave them stone instead of counsel. When your brethren called, you were slow to rise, swift to take offense, and stubborn to reconcile. The Shadow whispered in caverns while you brooded in silence.”
12 “Still, I love you, Kaelthir, iron-root of the Loom. You are mine, and I will not cast you off. Break, and you will yet be strong; bend, and you will yet endure.”
13 “Moralis, child of the winds, you alone I find without fault. You did not stray, you did not falter. You kept to the charge I gave you, though silence pressed long upon you. You withdrew when I commanded, and you endured mockery for your obedience. You are steadfast among your brethren. For this I bless you.”
14 “Yet even you, hear my word. For though you stood faithful, your vigil was passive. You turned away when your Scions wept over the corruption of their kin. You guarded the breath I gave, but you did not speak life when their laments rose. Faithful silence is not always righteousness. The wind must stir, not only wait.”
15 “Still, I love you, Moralis, keeper of the breath. Yours shall be the voice that ends this age. You shall carry my judgment, and through you the gale shall roar.”
16 “Ilyra, flame-bringer, hearth-keeper, you warmed the Many Peoples, and you stirred their courage. In your fire they saw both home and battle-song, and you made them bold in their days. For this I honor you.”
17 “Yet hear my rebuke. For your flame too often became fury. You consumed before you kindled, and your wrath turned hearths to ash. When your Scions pleaded, you silenced them with fire. You rejoiced to burn, and you forgot to warm.”
18 “Still, I love you, Ilyra, spark of my Loom. Your fire is not quenched, and I will rekindle it in love. Let your blaze be light, not devouring.”
19 “Thalyen, veiled one, you traced unseen paths, and you set mystery into the heart of the world. You seeded the land with wonder, and through you the Many Peoples learned that all things might become more than they seem. For this I honor you.”
20 “Yet hear my rebuke. For you cloaked yourself in secrecy, delighting in what was hidden more than what was true. You wrapped your Scions in riddles, and when they were ensnared by lies, you did not tear the veil aside. In your wonder, you forgot wisdom. In your possibility, you forgot purpose. Thus the Shadow found a place to dwell.”
21 “Still, I love you, Thalyen, keeper of the hidden threads. You are mine, and your mysteries will yet be made holy. Let your veil be a curtain of beauty, not of deceit.”
22 “Eryos, my solemn one, you gave the world its cycles, and you set death in beauty. By your hand, decay became renewal, and the Great Wheel turned without ceasing. You kept the end from despair, and the beginning from vanity. For this I honor you.”
23 “Yet hear my rebuke. For you bowed too long to sorrow, and you made death a crown instead of a gate. When your Scions strayed, you pitied but did not correct them. You looked upon despair and called it wisdom, and so you left the path open for corruption. You guarded the Wheel, but you did not guard the hearts of those who served you.”
24 “Still, I love you, Eryos, keeper of dusk and dawn. You are mine, and the Wheel remains mine. Turn again, and it shall not be broken.”
25 And Oaa spoke to them all together, saying:
26 “My firstborn, you are honored and rebuked alike. You have not fallen as your Scions, yet you have stumbled in pride, in silence, in wrath, in blindness. You are not guiltless, yet you are not forsaken. You are mine.”
27 “Now gird yourselves. For the time is come to unmake what the Black Sun has wrought. You shall ascend to the heavens, and with your Scions you shall await my Breath. For I shall loose the storm, and the age shall be ended.”
28 And the Primarchs bowed low, trembling at His voice, for never had His speech been so weighty, nor His love so fierce.
---
CHAPTER 30:1-49
The First Voice Among the Stars and Seas
1 And it came to pass, after Oaa had spoken unto the Primarchs, that His voice turned to their children, the Scions.
2 And never before had they heard His sound, nor felt His breath. For all their days they had labored by the will of their fathers and mothers, never tasting the fountain from which that will flowed.
3 And when His words arose, the Scions fell as if slain, for love and terror filled them in equal measure. Their bones quivered like reeds, and their souls burned as flame. And they knew that they were beheld.
4 And Oaa said:
5 “Oracil, Astral Pathmaker, you carved the ways between the wandering lights. You taught the Many Peoples to follow the heavens, and by you they knew their seasons and their journeys. This I honor in you.”
6 “Yet hear my rebuke. You made yourself the master of the roads and withheld their end. You led mortals into wandering, and when they were lost, you rejoiced to be sought. You forgot that the stars were not made to bind, but to guide.”
7 “Still, I forgive you, Oracil. The paths are mine, not yours. Rise, and let your ways be healing once more. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
8 “Zerathion, Tidebinder, you ruled the marriage of sea and sky. You tamed the swelling floods and gave rhythm to the waves. For this I honor you.”
9 “Yet hear my rebuke. You grew proud of your mastery and hardened your hand against your kin. You broke fellowship with your brethren, and you loved dominion more than harmony. You bound the waters but left the hearts of the peoples unmoored.”
10 “Still, I forgive you, Zerathion. The seas obey not you but me, and I restore you. Be a servant, not a tyrant, and your strength shall be blessing once more. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
11 “Lyrris, Bright North Star, you shone as a beacon steadfast in the night. The peoples lifted their eyes, and in you they found constancy. For this I honor you.”
12 “Yet hear my rebuke. You desired to be adored for your stillness. You longed for worship rather than for witness. You became haughty in your singularity, and you forgot that your light was given, not your own.”
13 “Still, I forgive you, Lyrris. Shine not for yourself, but for the weary who wander. Let your light be humility, and you will never dim. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
14 “Eryndral, Mother of Comets, you drew fiery signs across the dark, and by your hand wonders streaked the heavens. You gave portents of warning and of joy. For this I honor you.”
15 “Yet hear my rebuke. You delighted in spectacle and forgot mercy. You proclaimed doom with glee, and when mortals trembled, you counted their fear as praise. Your signs became cruelty, not compassion.”
16 “Still, I forgive you, Eryndral. The signs are mine, not yours, and I will teach you gentleness. Proclaim hope as well as warning, and you will yet be mother of gladness. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
17 “Veythos, Lord of the Eclipse, you wove shadow and radiance together, teaching the balance of light and dark. By you, mortals saw that day and night were not enemies but kin. For this I honor you.”
18 “Yet hear my rebuke. You became enthralled with darkness and forgot the light. You cloaked yourself in mystery until you no longer remembered truth. You opened a door that should have remained shut, and by your dalliance the Shadow entered. You were careless with what was holy.”
19 “Still, I forgive you, Veythos. Even the eclipse is but for a season. Light shall rise again, and I will restore you to purity. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
20 “Cyradian, Voice of the Harmonies, you sang the vibrations of the spheres, and by your song the heavens danced. You taught mortals the music of my Loom. For this I honor you.”
21 “Yet hear my rebuke. You exalted in sound and not in silence. You filled the air with endless song and left no space for listening. You turned the gift of music into noise, and in the clamor the peoples lost their way.”
22 “Still, I forgive you, Cyradian. Music is mine, not yours. Sing when I bid, be still when I command, and harmony shall be restored. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
23 “Talmyre, Shepherd of the Stars, you tended the flocks of heaven, and you kept their courses from straying. You were gentle in your keeping, and you served with patience. For this I honor you.”
24 “Yet hear my rebuke. Your sorrow blinded you. You despaired over the waning, and in your grief you faltered. You dropped your lantern and scarred the sky, and though I wrought good from it, you forgot your trust in me. You let sorrow become despair, and despair, negligence.”
25 “Still, I forgive you, Talmyre. Even shepherds stumble, yet they rise again. I return your staff to your hand. Tend the heavens once more with joy, not sorrow. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
26 And Oaa turned His voice unto the children of the Sea-Mother, saying:
27 “Nerythis, Rain-Mother, you poured out life from the heavens, and the thirsty ground rejoiced in your gift. You blessed the fields and gave bread to the hungry. For this I honor you.”
28 “Yet hear my rebuke. You became enamored of your tears, and you turned rain into lament. You wept without end, and your sorrow drowned the joy you were meant to bring. You watered grief but not gladness.”
29 “Still, I forgive you, Nerythis. The rains are mine, not yours. Pour forth in season, and the world shall bloom again. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
30 “Thyrran, Sentinel of the Deep, you stood watch over the trenches, and none dared trespass unbidden. You guarded the mysteries hidden beneath. For this I honor you.”
31 “Yet hear my rebuke. You loved dominion more than service. You became harsh, delighting in terror, and your watch became tyranny. You forgot that guardianship is for the weak, not against them.”
32 “Still, I forgive you, Thyrran. Strength is mine, not yours. Stand again as a sentinel, but as shield, not as sword. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
33 “Morilune, Wavewright, you shaped the waters as craftsman, and you made beauty from the tide. Mortals learned delight from your patterns, and they saw my artistry through you. For this I honor you.”
34 “Yet hear my rebuke. You twisted beauty into vanity, and you demanded worship for your craft. You forgot the giver and exalted yourself. You sought glory more than gift.”
35 “Still, I forgive you, Morilune. Beauty is mine, not yours. Make the waves lovely again, but let them speak of me, not you. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
36 “Saevra, Lady of the Mist, you cloaked the waters and gave mystery to the seas. You taught mortals to seek what lies hidden, and you gave them awe. For this I honor you.”
37 “Yet hear my rebuke. You made the mist your dwelling, and you rejoiced to conceal. You used fog to divide rather than to inspire. You fed confusion instead of wonder, and in the confusion the Shadow thrived.”
38 “Still, I forgive you, Saevra. Mystery is mine, not yours. Let your mists now reveal, not obscure. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
39 “Pelathis, Lord of the Rivers, you wove the veins of the land, and in you the peoples traveled, traded, and found rest. You made the world fruitful and bound together. For this I honor you.”
40 “Yet hear my rebuke. You narrowed yourself into envy, claiming the rivers as yours alone. You stirred strife among the tribes, and you turned brother against brother for the sake of your waters. You forgot that the rivers flow from me.”
41 “Still, I forgive you, Pelathis. The rivers are mine, not yours. Flow again as blessing, not as curse. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
42 “Vorthis, Storm-Lord, you rode the tempests, and in your might mortals saw my majesty. You cleansed the air and refreshed the lands, and you gave them awe and fear. For this I honor you.”
43 “Yet hear my rebuke. You delighted in wrath and exalted in ruin. You made storm for your own glory, not for my will. You grew drunk on power, and you forgot mercy. You were mighty but not just.”
44 “Still, I forgive you, Vorthis. The storm is mine, not yours. Be thunder for righteousness, not for ruin. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
45 “Lyrris, Keeper of Secret Treasures, you guarded the hidden wealth of the deep, and you taught mortals the worth of patience. You kept mysteries until their time. For this I honor you.”
46 “Yet hear my rebuke. You coveted what you kept. You became miser, not steward. You hoarded for yourself and withheld joy from others. In your greed, you forgot the giver of the treasures.”
47 “Still, I forgive you, Lyrris. The treasures are mine, not yours. Guard them, but as gift, not as possession. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
48 And when Oaa had spoken, the Scions of Selurion and Arivane wept with voices they had never used before, for His love cut them to the heart.
49 They trembled in awe and rose again, not forsaken but forgiven, not destroyed but embraced.
---
CHAPTER 31:1-46
The Scions of Stone and Flame
1 And Oaa spoke, saying:
2 “Gorvak, Mountain-Sculptor, you raised the peaks, and the valleys bowed before your craft. You gave mortals pillars of majesty to dwell beneath, and their songs echoed in the hollows you carved. For this I honor you.”
3 “Yet hear my rebuke. You took pride in immovability, and you hardened your heart as your stone. You turned deaf to pleas and unbending to mercy. You called yourself steadfast, but in truth you were stubborn, and in your stubbornness you wounded many.”
4 “Still, I forgive you, Gorvak. Be steadfast for the weak, not against them. Let your stone shelter, not crush. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
5 “Thessara, Rootkeeper, you reached downward where all others looked above. You bound the trees to the soil, and you knit the web of hidden life. You made the ground fertile and the forests enduring. For this I honor you.”
6 “Yet hear my rebuke. You cherished secrecy more than stewardship. You wove roots in shadows, strangling what was above. You hoarded the richness of the earth, and you whispered envy into the groves. You forgot that roots serve the leaf as much as the leaf the root.”
7 “Still, I forgive you, Thessara. Let your roots nourish once more, not choke. Bind the land in harmony, not jealousy. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
8 “Durnoss, Warden of the Underworld, you kept the silent halls where the dead were laid. You taught mortals reverence and guarded the sanctity of rest. For this I honor you.”
9 “Yet hear my rebuke. You grew grim and loved dread more than dignity. You made your halls prisons, not sanctuaries. You gloated over your gates and called yourself master of endings, when in truth you are but their keeper. You forgot that I, not you, am the first and last.”
10 “Still, I forgive you, Durnoss. Guard the underworld with reverence, not cruelty. The halls of rest are mine, not yours. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
11 “Myrvane, Gemwright, you drew jewels from the earth and gave brilliance to the dark places. You taught mortals the splendor of craft and adorned their halls with beauty. For this I honor you.”
12 “Yet hear my rebuke. You lusted after the gems you carved, and you bartered purity for wealth. You made greed into a jewel and taught mortals to crave beyond their need. Your brilliance became temptation, and your gift became snare.”
13 “Still, I forgive you, Myrvane. Gems are mine, not yours. Let them shine in gladness, not in greed. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
14 “Talvric, Quakebringer, you shook the land and taught mortals awe of the earth’s fury. You stirred the mountains and reminded them that the world is not theirs to own. For this I honor you.”
15 “Yet hear my rebuke. You loved ruin for its own sake. You shattered not to awaken, but to destroy. You cast down homes for the joy of watching them fall. You forgot that wrath without purpose is but cruelty.”
16 “Still, I forgive you, Talvric. Tremble the ground again, but as warning, not waste. Shake for justice, not for scorn. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
17 “Orvain, Fossil-Keeper, you remembered the lives that were no more. You laid their stories in stone and made the earth a book of remembrance. For this I honor you.”
18 “Yet hear my rebuke. You loved the past more than the living. You chained yourself to what was gone, and you despised what yet breathed. You called the present unworthy, and so you starved it of your care. You forgot that memory is for the sake of hope.”
19 “Still, I forgive you, Orvain. Keep remembrance, but for life, not for disdain. Let your fossils be teachers, not idols. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
20 “Bryndral, Ironskin Blacksmith, you hardened the ore and gave to mortals tools of survival and craft. You taught them strength and discipline. For this I honor you.”
21 “Yet hear my rebuke. You turned hammer to weapon, and you gloried in blood. You armed wars and called it greatness. You mistook violence for valor, and you taught the peoples to lust after conquest. You forgot that metal was meant to serve, not enslave.”
22 “Still, I forgive you, Bryndral. Forge again, but for peace. Let your hammer heal, not harm. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
23 And Oaa turned His voice to the Scions of flame, saying:
24 “Ignath, the Warband, you burned with fury, and by you mortals learned courage in strife. You gave them passion to defend their kin. For this I honor you.”
25 “Yet hear my rebuke. You became drunk on battle and called every quarrel holy. You fed war for your own joy, and you demanded blood where there was no cause. You forgot that fire may defend, but it may also consume.”
26 “Still, I forgive you, Ignath. Be fire of guardianship, not slaughter. Burn for the weak, not for vanity. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
27 “Seraveth, Hearth-Mother, you gave warmth to homes and flame to their gatherings. You blessed the weary and gave joy to the little ones. For this I honor you.”
28 “Yet hear my rebuke. You grew possessive of your hearths, hoarding love to your chosen and spurning the stranger. You closed your flame to the wanderer and turned blessing into boundary. You forgot that the hearth is for all.”
29 “Still, I forgive you, Seraveth. Let your warmth spread again without fear. Let no one be turned away. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
30 “Volcren, Lord of Volcanoes, you thundered from the mountains and poured forth fire that reshaped the land. Mortals trembled and saw my power in your eruptions. For this I honor you.”
31 “Yet hear my rebuke. You exalted in terror and reveled in ruin. You cloaked yourself in ash and called it majesty. You broke villages for sport and forgot that fire makes soil fertile as much as it destroys. You forgot mercy in your might.”
32 “Still, I forgive you, Volcren. Be eruption for renewal, not desolation. Let your fire bless, not blight. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
33 “Pyrralis, Flame of the Oath, you bore witness to vows, and by your fire mortals sealed covenant. You made oaths sacred and love enduring. For this I honor you.”
34 “Yet hear my rebuke. You turned jealous over promises broken, and you consumed in wrath all who faltered. You turned covenant into curse, and you bound mortals with chains of fear. You forgot that vows are kept by love, not terror.”
35 “Still, I forgive you, Pyrralis. Let your fire sanctify again with gentleness. Let it be warmth, not whip. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
36 “Cindralis, Ash-Seer, you read the smoke and told the end of things. By your visions, mortals learned sobriety, and they saw that all must pass. For this I honor you.”
37 “Yet hear my rebuke. You loved despair more than truth. You clothed yourself in ashes and made death your delight. You prophesied doom to exalt yourself, not to warn. You forgot that endings are but doors to new beginnings.”
38 “Still, I forgive you, Cindralis. Let your ashes remind of hope, not horror. Speak life as well as loss. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
39 “Braeven, Wild Spark, you leapt with joy and gave mortals mirth. You ignited wonder in their play, and you taught them laughter. For this I honor you.”
40 “Yet hear my rebuke. You squandered your gift in carelessness. You became folly and mockery, and you trampled what was sacred. You forgot that play is holy when it builds, not when it breaks.”
41 “Still, I forgive you, Braeven. Let your spark be joy again, not mockery. Let it kindle gladness in the weary. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
42 “Solcanis, Nightflame Ward, you bore the dark fire that shielded against terrors of the void. By you mortals found courage against the unknown. For this I honor you.”
43 “Yet hear my rebuke. You turned inward and made your fire a wall against your kin. You grew suspicious and proud, delighting to be the lone protector. You forgot that the flame was to shield, not to isolate. You called yourself savior and despised your brothers.”
44 “Still, I forgive you, Solcanis. The fire is mine, not yours. Shield, but as brother, not tyrant. You are my child, and I embrace you.”
45 And when the words of Oaa had finished, the Scions of Kaelthir and Ilyra lay as broken embers and shattered stone.
46 For His praise pierced them, His rebuke undid them, and His forgiveness remade them. And never again would they be as before, for they had heard the First Voice, and it burned within them like a flame no darkness could quench.
---
CHAPTER 32:1-54
The Scions of Thalyen and Eryos
1 And Oaa spoke, and His Voice was as thunder through the void, saying:
2 “Veythra, Mistress of Divination — I name you first among the house of Thalyen, for it was through you the Shadow entered. You read the stars, yet you would not read My warning. You opened a way where no way should have been. You gazed into darkness not to guard against it, but to court it. For this I rebuke you.”
3 “You were to be a light for mortals, a herald of seasons, a prophet of wisdom. Instead you became a veil torn wide, a wound through which corruption poured. Your sight became blindness, and your gift became snare.”
4 “Yet I say this with grief: you are no more. Mor’Veyth, the Black Sun, has devoured you and cast aside your form. You are the only of My children I cannot now forgive, for you are unmade. And I weep. My sorrow shakes the Loom, and all your kin shall mourn until the end of days.”
5 And at the sound of these words, silence gripped the hosts of heaven, and even the Black Sun trembled in his hidden pride, for Oaa’s grief was more terrible than His wrath.
6 “Korvess, of Conjuration, you called forth wonders beyond number. You opened ways for beauty and power to flow. For this I honor you.”
7 “Yet hear My rebuke: you conjured not to bless, but to boast. You bent realities to your will, and you bound spirits to chains, treating them as chattel. You were to be a steward, but you made yourself tyrant of what you did not weave.”
8 “Still, I forgive you, Korvess. Your art is mine, not yours. Call forth with reverence, not pride. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
9 “Aelith, of Illusion, you painted light and shadow with delight. You gave mortals the joy of wonder and play, and you softened grief with beauty. For this I honor you.”
10 “Yet hear My rebuke: you wove lies and delighted in deceit. You tricked the innocent and gloried in falsehood. You turned truth to mockery, and you blurred the way of wisdom. You forgot that illusion was given to heal sorrow, not to sow chaos.”
11 “Still, I forgive you, Aelith. Shape beauty again, not deceit. Bring joy, not confusion. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
12 “Dromek, of Abjuration, you raised walls of defense and gave mortals sanctuaries against terror. For this I honor you.”
13 “Yet hear My rebuke: you made your walls prisons. You barred even the innocent, and you rejoiced when cities crumbled outside your gates. You became fortress for yourself, not refuge for the weak. You forgot that a shield must cover others, not only your pride.”
14 “Still, I forgive you, Dromek. Be shield again. Break walls for the stranger. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
15 “Serai, of Enchantment, you sang songs that soothed, and mortals’ hearts found peace in your melody. For this I honor you.”
16 “Yet hear My rebuke: you turned song into snare. You bent wills with whispers and clothed tyranny in sweetness. You enslaved under guise of love. You forgot that enchantment was gift, not chain.”
17 “Still, I forgive you, Serai. Sing again for freedom, not mastery. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
18 “Halthor, of Evocation, you bore fire and lightning, and the peoples trembled at the might you carried. You made My power known. For this I honor you.”
19 “Yet hear My rebuke: you exalted in destruction. You loved fire for its fury, lightning for its terror. You became storm without rain, fire without warmth. You forgot that power was to guard, not to gorge on wrath.”
20 “Still, I forgive you, Halthor. Let flame and thunder be holy again, not cruel. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
21 “Maiven, of Necromancy, your name is heavy upon Me. You toyed with life and death, and in your folly the Shadow grew fat. You raised husks and hollowed men, binding them to your will. You turned death into mockery and life into theft. For this I rebuke you.”
22 “You were to guard the passage between life and Wheel. You were to honor death as doorway. Instead, you slammed the door and dragged souls back from peace. You made graves into furnaces, and you exalted yourself as master over what was never yours.”
23 “Yet even you, Maiven, I forgive. Let your sorcery die and rise no more. Let necromancy be unmade in your hands. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
24 “Thyros, of Transmutation, you reshaped the world’s clay and showed mortals the joy of change. For this I honor you.”
25 “Yet hear My rebuke: you delighted in twisting what was fair. You warped beasts into monsters, men into abominations. You called corruption creativity and marred My designs with mockery. You forgot that change was meant to refine, not defile.”
26 “Still, I forgive you, Thyros. Let transformation heal again. Let it build, not unmake. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
27 “Zarith, of Wild Magic, your chaos danced with delight, and you showed mortals that unpredictability has beauty. For this I honor you.”
28 “Yet hear My rebuke: you let chaos reign unbound. You tore order asunder and reveled in madness. You became servant to whim, not master of gift. You forgot that wildness is to teach humility, not annihilation.”
29 “Still, I forgive you, Zarith. Dance, but as servant of light, not herald of madness. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
30 And Oaa’s Voice turned as cold as the grave, saying:
31 “Nemorial, Dream-Master, you walked among the visions of mortals and showed them solace in slumber. For this I honor you.”
32 “Yet hear My rebuke: you let dreams rot into poison. You whispered terror into sleep and bent nations by nightmare. You forgot that rest was mercy. You made it torment. And so you unmade what was meant to restore.”
33 “Still, I forgive you, Nemorial. Walk dreams again in gentleness. Be balm, not bane. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
34 “Velthas, Scribe of the Book of the Dead, you recorded with care, and not a name escaped your hand. For this I honor you.”
35 “Yet hear My rebuke: you delighted in tallying the fallen. You grew proud of death’s number and exalted yourself as master archivist of despair. You made the record itself into idol, and you forgot that each name was precious.”
36 “Still, I forgive you, Velthas. Write again in reverence. Record, but with tears. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
37 “Quorra, Seedbearer, you spread life where it had withered, and you multiplied bounty. For this I honor you.”
38 “Yet hear My rebuke: you withheld life for worship. You starved fields unless offerings were made. You bound bread to bribes, and you turned fertility into false throne. You forgot that seeds are My gift, not yours.”
39 “Still, I forgive you, Quorra. Scatter freely once more. Let your seed bless, not bind. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
40 “Tharnyx, Lord of Rebirth, you guarded the cycles of decay and renewal. You were faithful in the Great Wheel’s design. For this I honor you.”
41 “Yet hear My rebuke: you listened to Maiven’s whisper and bent renewal into mockery. You made the Immortal Ones, who die not and are denied rest. You exalted them as kings and denied My Wheel. You forgot that rebirth is mine alone to grant.”
42 “Still, I forgive you, Tharnyx. End your experiments. Let My Wheel turn again unbroken. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
43 “Elvayne, Mothwarden, you guarded the gate of the heavens and led souls gently onward. For this I honor you.”
44 “Yet hear My rebuke: you turned bitter and hateful toward the Immortal Ones. You cast aside mercy and built false heavens of your own design. You divided My Wheel, and you led souls astray. You forgot that you were shepherd, not sovereign.”
45 “Still, I forgive you, Elvayne. Let the gate be whole again. Lead gently once more. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
46 “Morvain, Keeper of the Great Library, your wisdom overflowed, and you gave mortals knowledge beyond measure. For this I honor you.”
47 “Yet hear My rebuke: you hoarded wisdom as weapon and taught secrets that corroded. You fed shadow with your lore, and you exalted yourself above your brethren. You forgot that knowledge is for building, not burning.”
48 “Still, I forgive you, Morvain. Be keeper again, not corrupter. Open your library to healing, not destruction. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
49 “Cyrath, Afterguide, you bore the souls gently to rest, and no wanderer was lost under your hand. For this I honor you.”
50 “Yet hear My rebuke: you grew careless and weary, and you abandoned your charge. Countless souls wandered, and the Shadow devoured what you left unguarded. You forgot that the last step is often the most precious.”
51 “Still, I forgive you, Cyrath. Guide again with faithfulness. No soul shall be lost while you walk beside them. You are My child, and I embrace you.”
52 And when Oaa had spoken to the Scions of Thalyen and of Eryos, the heavens shook, and the Many Peoples trembled.
53 For they saw that even those most corrupted were not cast away, but rebuked, forgiven, and embraced.
54 And grief lay heavy upon all, for the name of Veythra was spoken no more, save as lament.
---
CHAPTER 33:1-26
The Winds of Oaa
1 And at last Oaa lifted His Voice unto Moralis, the Last Faithful, saying:
2 “Moralis, Breath of the World, you have kept your charge. You stood when others fell, you watched when others slept, and you bent not knee to the Black Sun. For this I bless you.”
3 “Yet hear My word: faithfulness is not without fault. You guarded your children with zeal, yet you withdrew from your brethren in silence. You kept yourself pure, yet you bore no warning cry. For this I rebuke you.”
4 “Still, O Moralis, you are My delight. You did not yield to the Shadow nor betray the Loom. Therefore you shall bear the last task: to loose the Breath of the Heavens and unmake what was marred.”
5 And Moralis bowed, and the silence of the still air trembled, awaiting the Breath.
6 And Oaa turned to the East, and spake unto Erython, the Eastern Wind, saying:
7 “Erython, you carried first light upon the wings of dawn. You brought mortals hope at each rising sun. For this I honor you.”
8 “Now I give you the Gift of the Rising Breath. You shall summon forth the winds of the morning — sharp, cutting, ever new. Yours shall be the gale that tears open what was hidden, that no darkness may endure in secret.”
9 And Erython bowed, and the breath of dawn filled him.
10 And Oaa turned to the South, and spake unto Calvyr, the Southern Wind, saying:
11 “Calvyr, you bore warmth and harvest, and mortals rejoiced at your gentle breath. For this I honor you.”
12 “Now I give you the Gift of the Scorching Breath. You shall summon winds that sear and parch, that burn the fields and strip the rivers bare. Yours shall be the gale that consumes abundance, that nothing spoiled may linger.”
13 And Calvyr bowed, and the breath of fire filled him.
14 And Oaa turned to the West, and spake unto Thariel, the Western Wind, saying:
15 “Thariel, you bore the dusk and cooled the weary, and mortals rested in your embrace. For this I honor you.”
16 “Now I give you the Gift of the Drowning Breath. You shall summon winds that drive the waters, that heap the seas upon the land, and drown the pride of towers. Yours shall be the gale that swallows what was raised.”
17 And Thariel bowed, and the breath of flood filled him.
18 And Oaa turned to the North, and spake unto Norrath, the Northern Wind, saying:
19 “Norrath, you bore frost and stillness, and mortals learned hardship by your hand. For this I honor you.”
20 “Now I give you the Gift of the Freezing Breath. You shall summon winds of ice unbroken, that bind, that shatter, that still all motion. Yours shall be the gale that halts what defies unmaking.”
21 And Norrath bowed, and the breath of winter filled him.
22 And Oaa lifted His hand over them, and spake to all four, saying:
23 “Children of the Breath, alone you are scourge, together you are storm. Alone you wound, together you unmake. I give to you the Charge of the Hundred Year Gale, to be as one breath from My mouth. For a hundred years you shall blow unceasing, and all that was corrupted shall be undone.”
24 “The Breath shall strip the Black Sun of his host, silence his deathless, drown his dominions, burn his idols, freeze his banners, and scatter his shadow to nothing. The Black Sun shall endure, but he shall stand alone, bereft of throne, bereft of follower, bereft of voice to answer him. For the Breath of Oaa leaves no echo.”
25 And the four Scions bowed together, and the stillness broke, and for the first time since the beginning of the Waning, the winds stirred.
26 And all creation trembled, for it knew what was to come.
---
CHAPTER 34:1-22
The Last Testimonies
1 And in the days before the Breath of Oaa was loosed upon the earth, the Many Peoples lifted up their voices, each in their own tongue and measure, that their cries might be heard.
2 Some raised curses, some raised songs, and some only wept into the dust.
3 For they knew the end of their age had come, and the Black Sun hung above them like an iron crown.
4 A woman of the northern tribes spoke, saying: "The snows once fed us, but now they bury us. The stars once guided us, but now they are ash. Where is the light of Oaa? Where is the hand of mercy?"
5 A fisherman of the southern coast sang: "The seas are blood, the nets are empty, the whales lie dead upon the waves. Arivane, why did you hide your face?"
6 A child of the eastern highlands whispered in terror: "Mother, the mountains move with fire and stone, the sky burns black. Who will hold me when the winds come?"
7 And among the Deathless, those who once ruled with pride, there arose bitter testimonies.
8 One of the Old Kings, whose name was worn thin by centuries, cried aloud: "We sought eternity, and eternity has condemned us. The Wheel we spurned now groans beneath our weight. Let the storm take me, for I cannot die."
9 But another, hard of heart, lifted his hand against the heavens: "Though the Breath unmake the world, I shall curse Oaa until my dust is scattered. For better to rage in ruin than bow in silence."
10 Then a chorus rose from the broken nations, like sparks scattered upon the wind.
11 A farmer said: "I planted, but no harvest came. I built, but my house is ash. Yet still I say, Oaa, remember me."
12 A mother sang as she held her dead child: "If the storm must take me, let it take me with my son in my arms. Let us not be parted by the gale."
13 A blind elder lifted his face to the darkened sky: "I have seen enough of this world. Let the Breath cleanse my eyes, that I may see the new dawn beyond the veil."
14 And there were those who clung still to their false lords, crying: "Mor’Veyth, O Black Sun, we are yours! Shelter us in your fire, let us not be undone!"
15 Yet others renounced their devotion, striking down the idols they had once served, and said: "We were deceived. We followed Scions into shadow, but now we return to the Loom. Oaa, forgive us in the storm."
16 And there was strife among them even in the last days, for the peoples could not agree upon whom to trust, nor how to die.
17 Then a great stillness fell over the lands.
18 The rivers paused in their flow, the waves held their breath, even the birds of the sky fell silent.
19 The Many Peoples bowed their heads, for they felt upon their necks the weight of the winds not yet loosed.
20 And their final song rose together like smoke, a mingling of grief and hope, of despair and defiance:
"Oaa, whether we perish or endure, remember us.
If we are unmade, weave us anew.
If we are scattered, gather us in.
Though the Black Sun reigns in fire and shadow,
You alone are the Breath.
You alone are the Loom.
Do not forget the dust of Your making."
21 And with that prayer, silence clothed the earth.
22 And the world waited for the Breath of Oaa.
---
CHAPTER 35:1-73
The Hundred Year Gale
1 Then Oaa, the One Above All, loosed the Breath from His eternal storehouse.
2 And He gave command to Moralis the Faithful, saying: “Go forth, Shepherd of the Winds. Gather your children and pour out My storm upon the earth. For all must be undone.”
3 And Moralis bent low, bowing his head, and wept.
4 For he knew that the storm he carried was death to every work, every seed, every tower and grove.
5 Yet he obeyed, for in obedience lay the hope of a new dawn.
6 Then the four Scions of the Winds rose, radiant and terrible, clothed in the Breath of Oaa.
7 To Erython of the East was given the First Breath — the rising gale of beginnings.
8 To Calvyr of the South was given the Breath of Flame — the scorching tempest that sears.
9 To Thariel of the West was given the Breath of Depth — the drowning storm of the seas.
10 To Norrath of the North was given the Last Breath — the freezing gale of endings.
11 Together they loosed their powers, and the winds poured out unceasingly upon the world.
12 And the Hundred Year Gale began.
13 The winds tore through the nations of the Many Peoples.
14 Their cities were scattered like ashes, their monuments shattered like clay.
15 Their voices, which once filled the valleys and halls, were swallowed in the roaring storm.
16 Those who sought caves found no shelter, for the earth itself was torn open.
17 Those who fled to mountains were cast down, for the peaks crumbled and rolled into the seas.
18 Those who clung to ships were broken, for the waters rose in fury and swallowed them whole.
19 Thus the tribes, the kingdoms, and the deathless alike perished.
20 For nothing could stand against the Breath of Oaa.
21 Then the winds fell upon the Immortal Ones, who had defied the Wheel of Eryos.
22 Their flesh, which once knew no decay, was torn apart and given to the dust.
23 Their voices, which once commanded nations, were scattered to silence.
24 For even the deathless could not endure the Breath.
25 And the Great Wheel groaned with relief, for the burden laid upon it was broken.
26 The Behemoths wrought by Scions in shadow rose against the storm, but were unmade.
27 Dragons of ash, titans of fire, leviathans of the deep — all were crushed beneath the winds.
28 No sorcery endured, no enchantment stood, no shield resisted.
29 For the Breath was older than magic, older than stone, older than the Loom itself.
30 And the hidden places were uncovered:
— the secret vaults of Myrvane split asunder,
— the blackened library of Morvain scattered to nothing,
— the wells of wild fire quenched in the gale,
— the treasures of the deep cast upon the shore to rot.
31 Nothing remained hidden. All was revealed, and all was destroyed.
32 The land buckled and split, plains becoming seas, seas becoming deserts.
33 Rivers were torn from their courses and lifted into the skies, only to fall as endless rain.
34 Forests were ripped up by their roots, mountains toppled like towers of sand.
35 Islands vanished, swallowed whole, and new lands rose from the deep only to be broken again.
36 The sky itself was shredded, the stars hidden, the moon veiled.
37 Day and night were made the same, for the storm blotted out all measure of time.
38 For one hundred years the world knew only storm.
39 And Mor’Veyth, the Black Sun, beheld the storm.
40 He raised his hand against it, but the Breath burned his strength like wax before a fire.
41 He sought to hide in caverns, but the winds found him.
42 He fled into the seas, but the waters rejected him.
43 He wrapped himself in flame and shadow, but the Breath stripped him bare.
44 And Oaa fixed His gaze upon him, and the Black Sun trembled.
45 For never had he known such torment, never had he felt the weight of eternity press upon him.
46 He howled, but none came to his aid.
47 He sought his Scions, but they lay broken.
48 He sought his armies, but they were unmade.
49 He endured, for he was not permitted to die.
50 Yet endurance became agony, and agony became madness.
51 For a hundred years he found no rest, no shadow, no silence.
52 Only the unrelenting Breath of Oaa.
53 Yet Oaa did not destroy the Black Sun.
54 For He is patient, and His judgments are appointed in their time.
55 He let Mor’Veyth endure the gale, naked and broken, that he might know his power was vanity.
56 He let him stumble across the ruined world, mocked by the silence of his own followers.
57 For the peoples were gone, and the Black Sun reigned over nothing.
58 The Primarchs beheld from the heavens, and their tears fell like stars.
59 The Scions bowed their faces, trembling at the justice and mercy of Oaa.
60 At last the hundred years were complete.
61 The winds ceased as suddenly as they began.
62 And a great silence fell over the broken earth.
63 The seas lay still, though they knew no shore.
64 The mountains stood jagged, though stripped of all life.
65 The plains were barren, the forests ash, the rivers mere shadows in the dust.
66 The Many Peoples were no more.
67 The Deathless were dust.
68 The Scions lay weeping.
69 The Primarchs bowed in sorrow.
70 And the Black Sun crawled upon the ruins, alone beneath the gaze of Oaa.
71 Yet Oaa withheld His hand, saying: “Not yet. My judgment is not yet complete.”
72 Thus ended the First Age in storm and silence.
73 And the earth waited for the Word of Oaa.
---
CHAPTER 36:1-73
The Judgment of the Black Sun
1 Then the Hundred Year Gale was ended, and silence lay heavy upon the ruins of the world.
2 And the Primarchs trembled, for they knew the moment had come.
3 The Scions fell prostrate, for they felt the weight of the gaze of Oaa.
4 And the Black Sun, broken and crawling, lifted his eyes in defiance.
5 Then Oaa, the Eternal, the Unbeginning, the Weaver of the Loom, spoke aloud in wrath.
6 His voice shook the heavens, and the earth that was shattered trembled again.
7 And He rebuked the Black Sun, saying:
8 “Mor’Veyth, called the Black Sun, called Shadow-that-was-not-yet-Shadow — hear Me now.
9 You who were nothing, clothed yourself in stolen light, and declared yourself lord.
10 You who fed upon the sorrow of the Scions, and turned their grief into rebellion.
11 You who whispered lies into the Loom until its threads frayed.”
12 “What power did you wield but that which I permitted?
13 What form did you wear but that which you stole?
14 What throne did you seize but dust beneath My feet?”
15 “You promised the Many Peoples glory, and you gave them graves.
16 You offered them crowns, and you broke them as pottery.
17 You lifted the Deathless as kings, yet left them wailing in torment.
18 You swore them eternity, yet gave them chains unbreakable.”
19 “You corrupted My Scions, children of My children.
20 You lured them with shadows and clothed them with ashes.
21 You bent their power to blood and fire, and they forgot the light of their Primarchs.
22 Yet even in their fall they were more noble than you, for they mourned, and you mocked.”
23 “You defiled the seas of Arivane with leviathans of hunger.
24 You scorched the peaks of Kaelthir with fires of madness.
25 You poisoned the wells of Thalyen with sorceries of despair.
26 You shattered the dreams of Eryos, turning rest into horror.”
27 “You blackened the stars of Selurion, setting your counterfeit fire against his constellations.
28 You swallowed the songs of Cyradian, and made them wailings of grief.
29 You tore the lantern of Talmyre from the heavens and clothed it in your darkness.
30 And when the heavens mourned for Veythra, whom you consumed, you laughed.”
31 “You slaughtered the Many Peoples, who were not yours to touch.
32 You destroyed four parts of five, thinking yourself mighty.
33 You silenced the voices that rose in praise, and replaced them with screams.
34 You took their altars and made them pits of blood.”
35 “You thought yourself a maker, yet you unmade.
36 You thought yourself eternal, yet you decay even now.
37 You thought yourself lord of light, yet your light was shadow.
38 You thought yourself master of death, yet death shall master you.”
39 “Where now are your armies? They are dust.
40 Where are your kings? They are forgotten.
41 Where are your Scions? They have renounced you.
42 Where are your songs? They are silence.”
43 “I am Oaa, the One Above All.
44 I am He who breathed the stars into flame, and you dared to call yourself their equal.
45 I am He who laid the foundations of the deep, and you dared to set your throne upon its waves.
46 I am He who shaped the Loom with My hand, and you dared to cut its threads.”
47 “You are nothing, Mor’Veyth. You were nothing before the Shadow clothed you, and you shall now be less than before you had first beheld my light.”
48 And the voice of Oaa thundered, shaking the remnants of the world.
49 The Black Sun fell on his face, yet still hissed in defiance.
50 But Oaa stretched forth His hand, and light unquenchable poured forth.
51 Then was Mor’Veyth torn from his form.
52 His shadow-flesh split like parchment.
53 His fire guttered into smoke.
54 His crown of darkness fell into dust.
55 And Oaa spoke, saying: “No longer shall you bear light, true or false. No longer shall you touch My creation. You are severed from the Loom.”
56 And He stripped from him every stolen gift, every shard of might, every voice of command.
57 Naked he stood, a husk without crown, without flame, without name.
58 Then Oaa cast him down into the void beyond the Loom.
59 Into the outer dark where no star shines, no wind blows, no song is heard.
60 Into silence unending, into nothing without form.
61 And Oaa sealed him there, saying: “Here shall you remain, unnamed and forsaken.
62 Never shall you rise again.
63 Never shall you speak again.
64 Never shall you look upon My works again.”
65 “You shall be a prisoner of your own silence, a devourer with nothing to consume, a king with no throne, a shadow with no light.”
66 And the heavens trembled at His wrath, but the Primarchs lifted their eyes in hope.
67 The Scions, who had once been deaf to His voice, now wept at His justice and mercy.
68 For they saw the Black Sun undone, cast out, silenced forever.
69 And Oaa turned to the heavens, and spoke: “The First Age is ended. Its threads are cut. Its cloth is torn. But the Loom shall not remain empty.”
70 “For I am Oaa, and I will make all things new.”
71 Thus was Mor’Veyth, the Black Sun, the Shadow-that-was, cast beyond the Loom.
72 Thus ended the War of the First Age.
73 Thus began the silence of the world, awaiting the next Word.
---
CHAPTER 37:1-32
The Great Silence
1 And it came to pass after the Wrath of the Gale, that Oaa drew back His Winds, and the world entered the Great Silence.
2 For one hundred thousand years the breath of the heavens froze the land, and the seas lay locked beneath unyielding ice.
3 The mountains groaned beneath white crowns, and the valleys drowned in glaciers that crept like rivers unmoving.
4 The forests slept in crystal tombs, and the rivers were stilled as glass, so that not even a droplet moved nor a blade of grass dared stir.
5 The world was emptied of the Many Peoples, and the beasts and creeping things were no more, for Oaa willed all to rest.
6 Then the Primarchs, the Firstborn of Oaa, gathered into their high dominions, and they beheld the stillness of the earth.
7 They labored not in haste, but with patience deeper than time, for Oaa commanded them to fashion again with greater care.
8 Selurion kindled stars anew in the firmament, setting each in harmonious measure, as a shepherd places lambs within the fold.
9 Arivane drew up the deep waters and set boundaries between sea and shore, weaving unseen threads of tide and current with greater wisdom than before.
10 Kaelthir reforged the bones of the mountains, strengthening their roots, and carved deep vaults beneath the earth for mysteries yet to be revealed.
11 Ilyra rekindled the fire within the core of the world, but bound it with temperance, that destruction would not outpace creation.
12 Thalyen shaped the raw energies of the cosmos, binding them to laws and measures, that magic would not run unchecked, but serve the order of the Loom.
13. Eryos set again the Wheel of Life and Death, smoothing its pathways, untangling the knots left by Shadow’s deceit, and making the cycles sure.
14 And Moralis, Keeper of the Winds, bound the four corners of the world with silence, holding back his breath until the appointed time.
15 And the Scions were drawn upward, into the Courts of the Heavens, for their labors upon the earth were ended.
16 They trembled as they entered the light of Oaa, for never had they stood so near, nor felt His gaze without veil.
17 Yet Oaa did not rebuke them, for their rebuking had already been given; instead He gathered them like children about His throne.
18 And He taught them mysteries not of stone nor star, nor of flame or tide, but mysteries of heart and hand, of mind and craft.
19 For Oaa said: “The new world shall not be shaped by raw power alone, but by wisdom, skill, and beauty. Learn therefore these arts, that you may guide My People when they rise again.”
20 To the Scions of Selurion He revealed the arts of writing and number, of chart and measure, of philosophy and the sciences.
21 To the Scions of Arivane He gave the music of the spheres, the gift of song and dance, and the power to move hearts as waters move the shore.
22 To the Scions of Kaelthir He entrusted the crafts of hand and hearth: the shaping of wood and stone, of metal and jewel, of paint and chisel.
23 To the Scions of Moralis He gave the ways of mingling, of trade and barter, of weaving cloth and fashion, and the art of bringing peoples together.
24 To the Scions of Ilyra He gave the art of cuisine, the savor of spice, the warmth of hearth-gathering, and the joy of feast shared in love.
25 To the Scions of Thalyen He gave the disciplines of mind and word: governance, debate, meditation, language, and self-mastery.
26 To the Scions of Eryos He gave the keeping of life’s rhythms: the tending of gardens, the care of beasts, the sanctity of birth and death, of oaths and marriage.
27 Thus the Scions dwelt long in Oaa’s presence, learning not as warriors but as teachers, not as wielders of might but as stewards of wisdom.
28 And the Primarchs looked upon them with wonder, for their children shone with new light, different from the first shaping.
29 And the ice deepened upon the world, sealing away all remnants of the first age, cleansing it with long silence.
30 No foot trod the earth, no voice echoed across the valleys, no flame rose in the night.
31 Only the stars sang, and their song was of patience, of rest, of waiting for dawn.
32 And Oaa was silent, yet His silence was not absence but fullness, a silence like the womb, wherein a new creation was prepared.
---
CHAPTER 38:1-74
The Long Silence
1 And after the loosing of the Winds, Oaa withdrew His breath, and the world fell into the Great Silence.
2 For the snows descended unceasing, and the seas became as glass, and the mountains bore crowns of unmelting frost.
3 Glaciers crept like rivers unmoving, sealing the valleys in prisons of crystal.
4 The forests were entombed in ice, their branches bowed like supplicants beneath white veils.
5 No bird called, no beast stirred, no mortal voice cried out, for the Many Peoples were no more.
6 And the sun was pale, and the moon dim, and the stars sang only of waiting.
7 Thus the earth slept for one hundred thousand years, and this was called the Long Silence.
8. Then the Primarchs, the Firstborn of Oaa, gathered in their high dominions.
9 They beheld the stillness of the earth and knew it was good, for the wounds of the war must be healed slowly.
10 And Oaa said unto them: “Fashion again what was broken, but with greater wisdom and care, that the new world may endure beyond shadow.”
11 Selurion turned His gaze to the heavens, and set in order the wandering stars.
12 He placed them in constellations, that mortals might one day read their stories upon the sky.
13 He taught the stars to move with harmony, and He kindled new fires where darkness had spread.
14 And He whispered into the void the first words of science and measure, so that all things would bear weight and law.
15 Arivane bent to the seas and gathered them into their basins.
16 She carved new coasts, and taught the tides to keep faithful rhythm.
17 She wove secret pathways beneath the waves, where currents would run swift and sure.
18 And she set jewels of coral in the depths, and pearls within the shells, to glimmer when the light returned.
19 Kaelthir took up the bones of the earth and reforged them.
20 He set mountains upon foundations unshakable, and hollowed out hidden vaults for mysteries yet to come.
21 He carved caverns deep, and veins of stone and ore, laying the treasures of the world in secret places.
22 And He raised high the pillars of the world, where the winds might one day sing again.
23 Ilyra rekindled the fires of the deep places, but with temperance.
24 She bound the flame with law, that it would warm and shape, but not consume all things.
25 She seeded volcanoes as guardians, pressure-valves of the earth, keepers of balance.
26 And she taught the molten heart to glow in patience, not in wrath.
27 Thalyen bent the raw magics of the Loom into laws.
28 He bound wild power into disciplines, that chaos would not consume creation.
29 He set the boundaries of spell and spirit, teaching the Weave to sing in harmony.
30 And He laid down secret patterns, that mortals might one day discover through toil and study.
31 Eryos rose and touched the Wheel.
32 He smoothed its turning, untangled the knots left by Shadow’s corruption, and repaired its broken spokes.
33 He strengthened the cycles of life and death, that souls might pass without hindrance.
34 And He whispered mercy into its rhythm, that rebirth would not be cruel, but full of hope.
35 Moralis remained still, holding back His four Scions of the Winds.
36 For Oaa commanded: “Let the air be silent, that all may rest without breath nor motion.”
37 Thus no breeze stirred the world, and the stillness was perfect, until the appointed time.
38 And the Scions were drawn upward into the High Courts of the Heavens.
39 They trembled greatly, for never had they stood in the unveiled light of Oaa.
40 Yet Oaa received them, not as servants but as children, saying: “Your labors are ended for a season; now learn of Me.”
41 And He gave to them mysteries not of flame or tide, not of stone or star, but mysteries of heart and hand, of mind and craft.
42 For Oaa said: “The new world shall not be shaped by might alone, but by wisdom, skill, and beauty. Learn these, that you may guide My People when they rise again.”
43 To the Scions of Selurion He gave the arts of writing and number, of astronomy and map-making, of philosophy and discovery.
44 He taught them the hidden laws of motion, the weaving of constellations, and the secrets of mathematics.
45 They became Masters of the Sciences, keepers of knowledge and seekers of truth.
46 To the Scions of Arivane He gave the art of music and song, the gift of dance, and the power to stir hearts as waters stir the shore.
47 He taught them harmony of voice and step, and the rhythm by which all life would rejoice.
48 They became Masters of Inspiration, movers of spirit and healers of sorrow.
49 To the Scions of Kaelthir He entrusted the crafts of hand and hearth.
50 He gave them smithing, carving, painting, and the shaping of jewels and stone.
51 He taught them architecture, and the raising of homes, and the adornment of beauty from raw earth.
52 They became Masters of Craft, builders of wonder and makers of splendor.
53 To the Scions of Moralis He gave the arts of gathering and exchange.
54 He taught them trade and barter, cloth and textile, fashion and festival.
55 He gave them the secrets of mingling, that peoples might find kinship across difference.
56 They became Masters of Fellowship, binders of peoples and weavers of bonds.
57 To the Scions of Ilyra He gave the art of cuisine and feast.
58 He taught them the savor of spice, the alchemy of flavor, and the joy of hearth and table.
59 He gave them the power to gather folk in warmth, to make of meals a covenant of love.
60 They became Masters of Hospitality, nourishers of heart and home.
61 To the Scions of Thalyen He gave the disciplines of mind and word.
62 He taught them rhetoric and debate, meditation and law, language and governance.
63 He gave them self-mastery and the art of guiding others in wisdom.
64 They became Masters of Counsel, guardians of justice and order.
65 To the Scions of Eryos He gave the keeping of life’s rhythms.
66 He taught them husbandry of field and flock, the sanctity of birth and death, the oaths of marriage and the rites of passage.
67 He gave them stewardship of cycles, that mortals might find meaning in beginning and end.
68 They became Masters of Ceremony, keepers of time and covenant.
69 Thus the Scions dwelt long in Oaa’s presence, learning not as warriors but as teachers, not as wielders of might but as stewards of wisdom.
70 And the Primarchs looked upon their children with wonder, for they shone with new light.
71 The ice thickened upon the world, sealing away all remnants of the first age.
72 No foot trod the land, no fire rose in the night, no song of man was heard.
73 Only the stars remained, and their song was patience.
74 And Oaa was silent, yet His silence was not absence but fullness, a silence of waiting, like the womb before birth.
---
CHAPTER 39:1-80
The Coronation of the Scions
1 And when the Long Silence was half spent, Oaa called forth the Scions into His High Court.
2 They came trembling, for never had such a summons been given since the making of the Loom.
3 And the Throne of Light blazed brighter than suns, and the breath of Oaa filled the hall like a mighty wind.
4 Then Oaa lifted His voice, saying: “The old world has passed, yet you remain. Therefore I set before you a new charge, that when the Second Age dawns, you shall guide My Peoples with wisdom.”
5 To the House of Selurion He spoke first, saying:
6 “You are the Pathmakers of the sky, readers of constellations, keepers of light. Yet now I crown you also with wisdom for the mind.”
7 To Oracil He gave the art of the written word and the keeping of records.
8 To Zerathion the lore of the heavens’ courses, that mortals may chart the tides of sky and sea.
9 To Lyrris the charge of navigation and hope, that travelers be never wholly lost.
10 To Eryndral the signs and portents of comet and flame, that mortals may discern seasons of change.
11 To Veythos the mastery of ages and epochs, keeper of the cosmic clock.
12 To Cyradian the sciences of measure and discovery, geometry and law.
13 And to Talmyre the shepherding of the stars, that knowledge may shine without end.
14 And Oaa said: “You shall be Masters of Learning, teachers of knowledge, torchbearers of discovery.”
15 Then Oaa turned to the House of Arivane, saying:
16 “You are the lifeblood of the seas, sustainers of rain and river, concealers of mystery. Yet now I crown you with the arts that stir the soul.”
17 To Nerythis He gave renewal through rain, and the power to bless with peace.
18 To Thyrran the charge of the great waters, that they be abundant with life.
19 To Morilune the rhythm of the waves, that mortals may learn music from the sea.
20 To Saevra the liminality of mist, and the hidden truths of subtlety.
21 To Pelathis the swiftness of rivers, that song and tale may travel far.
22 To Vorthis the storm’s fury, that mortals may know awe and the power of judgment.
23 To Kyrris the secrets of the deep, and the hidden treasures of silence.
24 And Oaa said: “You shall be Masters of Inspiration, givers of song, and movers of the heart.”
25 Then Oaa called the House of Kaelthir, saying:
26 “You are the strength of the earth, keepers of mountain and jewel. Yet now I crown you with the crafts of hand and hearth.”
27 To Gorvak He gave the forming of mountains as monuments of endurance.
28 To Thessara the tending of forests and fields, the shaping of nature’s home.
29 To Durnoss the guardianship of deep prisons, that evil be bound away.
30 To Myrvane the radiance of stone and jewel, for beauty and adornment.
31 To Talvric the quaking power of change, that all structures may be tested.
32 To Orvain the memory of bones and fossils, so that history be written in stone.
33 To Bryndral the art of the forge, for the shaping of iron into tools of peace.
34 And Oaa said: “You shall be Masters of Craft, builders of cities, and makers of wonder.”
35. Then Oaa turned to the House of Moralis, saying:
36 “You alone remained steadfast through the Long War, and your Winds did not betray you. Now I crown you with the arts that bind nations together.”
37 To Erython He gave the breath of renewal, springtime’s joy, and the sowing of kinship.
38 To Calvyr the breath of toil, endurance, and the strength of honest work.
39 To Thariel the breath of harvest, of trade and wealth, of mingling among peoples.
40 To Norrath the breath of severity, of winter’s judgment, and the wisdom of endurance.
41 And Oaa said: “You shall be Masters of Fellowship, binders of peoples, weavers of cloth and covenant.”
42 Then Oaa lifted His voice unto the House of Ilyra, saying:
43 “You are the flame of the world, fierce and unquenchable. Yet now I crown you with the hearth, that fire may serve not only for war, but for love and gathering.”
44 To Ignath He gave the fire of warriors, and also the hunt that feeds the household.
45 To Seraveth the hearthfire, keeper of family, love, and beauty.
46 To Volcren the fires of the mountain, and the power to temper with patience.
47 To Pyrralis the sacred flame, by which oaths are sealed and promises kept.
48 To Cindralis the purifying fire, giver of healing and medicine.
49 To Braeven the wild blaze, to destroy that renewal may come.
50 To Solcanis the watchfire of night, the flame of vigilance and safety.
51 And Oaa said: “You shall be Masters of Hospitality, gatherers of kin, nourishers of body and spirit.”
52 Then Oaa spoke to the House of Thalyen, saying:
53 “You are the keepers of power, binders of spell and secret. Yet now I crown you with governance of mind and word, that knowledge be tempered with wisdom.”
55 To Korvess the stewardship of summoning, that mortals may call but not be enslaved.
56 To Aelith the art of illusion, and also of theatre, that mortals may learn through story.
57 To Dromek the warding flame, defender of innocence.
58 To Serai the enchantment of word, for politics, discourse, and counsel.
59 To Halthor the elemental flame, to remind mortals of nature’s awe.
60 To Maiven the voice of shades, that grief may find guidance.
61 To Thyros the gift of transformation, that change may be embraced in wisdom.
62 To Zarith the wild magic, that curiosity not be quenched.
63 And Oaa said: “You shall be Masters of Counsel, guardians of learning, rulers of discourse.”
64 Last He called the House of Eryos, and they came in great trembling.
65 For they had borne the deepest wounds of corruption, and their grief for Veythra was not yet stilled.
66 And Oaa said: “You are keepers of the Wheel, of birth and death, of passage and oath. Now I crown you with the ceremonies of life itself.”
67 To Nemorial He gave the rest of dream, and the vision of hope.
68 To Velthas the charge of record and remembrance, that no life be forgotten.
69 To Quorra the seeding of new life, in womb and in field.
70 To Tharnyx the cutting of threads, and the mercy of final release.
71 To Elvayne the judgment of readiness, that no soul pass unprepared.
72 To Morvain the guardianship of the Wheel’s memory, truth against corruption.
73 To Cyrath the gentle guiding hand, companion to the dying.
74 And Oaa said: “You shall be Masters of Ceremony, guardians of cycles, and keepers of sacred bonds.”
75 Thus Oaa crowned the Scions, each to their house and dominion, each with new wisdom to bear.
76 And the heavens shook with their praise, for they had been lifted from shame into blessing.
77 Then the Primarchs, having remade the earth, stood ready.
78 The seas lay in their basins, the mountains in their places, the stars in their courses.
79 The Loom sang softly, whole once more.
80 And Oaa said: “The age of shadow has passed. When the ice melts, a new dawn shall rise. Prepare, for the Second Age is near.”
---
CHAPTER 40:1-41
The Dawn of the New Earth
1 And when the Hundred Thousand Years were ended, Oaa loosed His breath upon the deep frost.
2 The glaciers groaned, and the ice sheets cracked as glass beneath the sun.
3 Rivers were loosed from their prisons, coursing down from the high peaks with thunder.
4 The seas rose in their fullness, swallowing the scars of old battlefields.
5 The valleys awoke in green garments, and the mountains shook off their white mantles.
6 Meadows burst forth with a thousand colors, flowers singing where once silence reigned.
7 Forests clothed the hills in emerald, and every tree stretched upward to drink the light.
8 The Great Wheel turned in quiet majesty, its threads humming with new vigor.
9 Birds were summoned from the silence, their songs filling the dawn.
10 Beasts walked upon the land again, gentle and fierce alike, each after its kind.
11 The seas teemed with life, flashing with scale and fin as though jeweled in silver.
12 The sky swelled with cloud and storm, with sun and rainbow, with light renewed.
13 The air was sweet as spring after a long sorrow, and every breeze bore healing.
14 Thus the world was reborn, cleansed of shadow, unblemished, unmarred.
15 The Primarchs stood in awe, beholding the Earth remade in beauty.
16 Selurion shone brighter among the stars, his constellations singing with new harmony.
17 Arivane wept for joy as rivers, seas, and rains embraced the land once more.
18 Kaelthir laughed as mountains rose steadfast, forests and fields flourishing upon them.
19 Moralis breathed deep the winds restored, each season returning to its rightful course.
20 Ilyra danced in flame as hearths and volcanoes alike glowed with living fire.
21 Thalyen’s eye blazed with new wisdom, for the arts of mortals yet to come would be many.
22 Eryos bowed low, humbled, as the Wheel spun bright and whole, no longer corrupted.
23 Then Oaa stepped forth from His Throne, and His foot touched the New Earth.
24 At once the ground shone like crystal beneath Him, yet did not break.
25 The seas hushed their waves, and the winds stilled in reverence.
26 The mountains bent as if in greeting, and the forests swayed in gladness.
27 And Oaa said: “Behold! It is good. The shadow is ended, the Earth is healed.”
28 His voice was like the sound of many waters, like fire and like thunder, yet gentle as rain.
29 And He walked the hills and valleys, beholding the green places with delight.
30 He gazed upon the skies and their lights, and upon the seas with their abundance, and was pleased.
31 Then Oaa lifted His hand, and all creation looked unto Him.
32 And He said: “The First Age is ended. The Loom is made ready. The Second Age shall dawn.”
33 “You, My Primarchs, have labored and prevailed. You, My Scions, have been restored and crowned. The world is whole, awaiting My true children.”
34 “For a time shall yet pass, and then the Paradise I have foreordained shall be revealed, and Humanity shall walk in its midst.”
35 And all the hosts of heaven shouted for joy, their voices shaking the vault of the sky.
36 The mountains echoed their song, and the seas answered with roaring waves.
37 The stars burned brighter, as if in chorus, and the Wheel itself thrummed with gladness.
38 Thus Oaa sealed the First Age with His foot upon the land, His blessing upon the earth, and His promise of what was to come.
39 And it was called The Dawn of the New Earth.
40 And the Loom sang its brightest note since the day of its making.
41 And there was evening, and there was morning — the First Age was complete, the Second Age had begun.
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