Chronicles of an Age Long Lost

  Before the Baltian migrations cut their long roads across the northern world, before the banners of Potaissa ever rose in the mountain winds, there existed an age so ancient that most of it survives only in fragments. People now call it the Sahullan Age. It was a time of high continents and great sea-realms, when Atlantis, Lemuria, and Meropis still stood unbroken above the oceans. Their rulers contended with elder races, wielded strange and powerful arts, and fought rivalries that strained the very bones of the earth.
  In the end, everything changed with the First Cataclysm.
  The world heaved and tore apart. Seas rushed inland and swallowed kingdoms whole. Mountain chains split; forests vanished beneath rising water; once-green coastlands slid into the deep. When the turmoil finally passed, the face of the earth had been remade. New inland seas filled the hollows where valleys had collapsed, deserts spread where life had once flourished, and jagged highlands rose where the land had been thrust skyward in a single night of fire and storm.
  Much of the age that followed has been lost to silence. A half-remembered hymn carved into a temple shard, a sorcerer’s chart hidden beneath lacquer, a worn relief eaten by centuries of wind: these are the small pieces that hint at how people struggled to endure. Slowly, in the long shadow of the Cataclysm, humankind crept back from the edge. They learned to live beside strange remnants of an older world, and to tread carefully around powers whose names had already slipped from memory.
  With time, the land settled into its new shape. Rivers cut fresh paths through uplifted stone. New mountains cooled under rain. Coastlines hardened along the scars left by the disaster. Yet the world never fully healed. Every valley, cliff, and crooked horizon still shows traces of that terrible night.
  And so the ages turned.
  We now live in the Fifth Baltian Age, an era that feels old but unsettled, as though the earth itself remembers its breaking and waits quietly for what may come next.