The Dance of Light and Shadow

The Creation of Eryndral: The Lunar Perspective

(As passed down by the Lunar Covenant’s shamans and seers, whispered under the moonlight)

In the beginning, there was Balance.

Before the world, before the stars, there was only the great Cosmic Veil—an endless sea of light and shadow, weaving together in harmony, neither separate nor whole.

From this cosmic dance, two divine beings emerged, not as enemies, but as two halves of one truth.

First came Solenara, the Blazing Radiance, who was bright and strong, her fire shaping form from chaos, breathing motion into stillness.
Then came Lunarel, the Silver Veil, who was gentle and wise, her light weaving beauty from void, granting dreams to formless thought.

Together, they shaped Eryndral, the world, as a child born of their union. Day and night flowed together, the Sun and Moon moving in an eternal waltz. Solenara’s light gave warmth, strength, and clarity; Lunarel’s light gave rest, mystery, and wisdom.

For an age, the world flourished beneath their harmony. Creatures of both sun and moon walked the land, neither above nor below the other.

But Solenara, in her passion, grew proud.

She sought to burn brighter, to bring eternal day, fearing that in the dark, her children would forget her. She declared her fire the one true light, seeking to claim the world for herself alone.

Lunarel pleaded for balance, but Solenara would not hear her sister’s voice. She demanded order, demanded dominion, and where her fire spread, the world withered.

And so, Lunarel wept, and from her sorrow, the first shadows fell upon Eryndral. She cast a veil upon the heavens, weaving the Moon from her own silver light, a sanctuary for those who feared the unrelenting fire.

Solenara, in her fury, called her followers to war, commanding them to banish the night and burn away the dark. The world trembled as fire and moonlight clashed, and in the end, Solenara’s pride shattered their harmony forever.

The war left scars upon the land, and the balance was broken. Solenara, unwilling to share, took the day as her throne. Lunarel, mourning but unyielding, took the night as her refuge.

And so it is fated: The Sun must always set, and the Moon must always rise.

To this day, Solenara’s followers seek conquest, believing themselves the only truth, while Lunarel’s children seek to restore balance, resisting the fire’s endless hunger.

But the Veil remembers, and the cycles of light and shadow will always return.

For one cannot exist without the other—and in the end, even the brightest flame must fade, while the Moon endures.