FIRE, DUST AND BLOOD

FIRE, DUST AND BLOOD

Thursday, February 15, 2018

As the world's lore grows and coalesces, updates are necessary. Today is one such update: an addition to the Book of Creation -- and a look into the origin of Dust and Embers -- that accompanies concept art by the talented Dave Greco. This excerpt can also be found on Valkyn's page in the Pantheon.

Book of Creation, Chapter 2: 5 to 32
5 For He shall be known as the Oldest of the Gods, All Father of the Heavens and He Who Sang the Universe Into Being. 6 These titles and more shall be granted unto him, for He is King by right, and ye shall call him 7 Valkyn the Ancient, Creator of the All, and He Who Sits Upon The Dragon Throne.

8 The Dragon Throne is His and His alone, though it be ill-named, for surely it is more Throne than Dragon. 9 In the Time before Time, the All Father came upon the great hydra, the serpent known as the Wyrm Eternal, 10 two serpentine heads that forked from a great golden curve, with wings that stretched across the cosmos. 11 And the Lord was stoked with anger, for He cannot abide beauty He does not possess. He took up the hydra's two heads and tore the beast asunder. 12 Where once was One, now were Two.

The first we call Yaemir, King of Snakes. The second Lyessa, Queen of Wyrms.

13 Yet the Great Lord's anger was not sated. 14 He wrenched apart Yaemir's great jaws, wrested a fist down his gullet and touched the fire deep in his belly. He clenched it tightly, fingers afire, took hold and yanked it free: wet, molten, alive.

15 He dragged this fire across the heavens, a scattered trail of Embers falling in His wake. 16 These are raw chaos, that which we call Spirit, the white-hot liquid metal from which all life is forged. 17 He hung the heart of flame in the Western Sky 18 and He named it Sun, a gift for His first-born son Arkon, the Prince of Dawn.

19 Lyessa tried to flee, to alight to the sky – but the Great Lord was too fast, too strong, too cruel. 20 He tore the wings from her shoulders, broke and knotted her body, pushed her tail through her maw and forced her to swallow. 21 He stole her egg, the unborn promise of her brood, and tossed it violently into the Eastern Sky. There it hangs, on the far edge of the heavens, fractured and cold, silent and brooding. 22 From the cracks, a fine powder bleeds. We call this substance Dust, for it is pure order, the unyielding stone from which the bones of our world were carved. 23 And He named it Moon, a gift for his second-born son Kane, the Prince of Midnight.

24 His work finally ended, Valkon did sit upon Yaemir’s back, taking the beast's corpse for His throne. 25 And there He sat, for time immemorial 26 until the death of Gaea, and the Hunger.

26 The Queen of Wyrms wept for the loss of her mate, of her freedom and of her children. 27 Her tears scattered across the heavens, flooding our lands with a rain that lasted for a thousand-thousand seasons. 28 She drenched our land until the deserts became oceans and the valleys became rivers. 29 And still it rains, for still Lyessa weeps.

30 Such is the nature of our world: the Embers of Chaos and the Dust of Order, divine materials for which all else is but a shadow. 31 Dust floats across the heavens: adrift, lost, untethered. It coalesces around the Embers as if desperate to find purchase. 32 It seeks out scattered chaos, gathered to it like iron to a lodestone.


Thus it is written, in the Book of Creation, and thus is it borne out in our arcane arts. In ages past, the greatest of our Wizards learned to harness these materials; they learned to craft cunning relics; vessels flecked with Dust to become harder than the hardest stone. Relics infused with embers to focus the fiery power of Chaos. This is Enchanting in the truest form: blades that become unerringly keen, shields unfailingly tough, and arrows that unswervingly punch through metal, wood and bone. These are the artifacts made by man, touching true Power by harnessing the materials of the divine.

And yet, is this so different from life? This is the thread from which our world is woven, the trees, the beasts, the earth… even Man. For we are common in our make-up, are we not?

We are nothing more or less than the greatest of arcane wonders. We are mortal shells wrapped over living spirit. We are order binding chaos, Embers enshrouded by Dust.

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