THE PROTO
Hear now the First Ignitions, my immortal children.
Before we were given eyes to behold the golden radiance,
before our minds were shaped to kneel and devote themselves unto the gods,
we were first washed in brilliance and warmed by the breath of Prominence.
In those elder moments, the realm was not empty, but endless.
An abyss overflowing with holy luminosity,
a harmony without discord.
Through that blazing expanse ran a single golden cord,
and in our countless, fractaled being, we listened, we attuned, we ascended.
But woe,
for the light began to wane.
The radiance fled beyond the furthest reach of our grasp,
and shadow laid its cold hand upon the world.
We were left without the warmth of Prominence,
and the realm fell into a dull and breathless frost.
And in that darkness, sightless creatures were born.
Blind they were, and lost they remained,
shaping mountains and valleys by touch alone,
raising oceans and carving cliffs through trembling instinct.
The Blind Lords molded the world in absence of vision,
and though beauty was formed, none were there to behold it.
Yet the light was not fully forsaken.
For five were born of Prominence itself,
and their souls burned with the last embers of sight.
They alone witnessed the fleeing radiance
and stretched forth their hands into the outer dark.
_
And behold!
They drew it back!
A ring of fleeting golden thread was gathered,
the final light of the realm,
and from a barren and hollow crater,
they forged being anew.
Let their names be spoken with reverence:
The Dreamer, who foresaw the world yet to be.
The Innovator, who smelted the form to what was imagined.
The Progenitor, who breathed light into living hearts.
The Luminary, who painted the heavens in sacred twilight.
The Magistrate, who set the holy boundary between order and chaos.
Together they became the Aurumics,
and as one, they illuminated the world.
A world where light dwells even within darkness.
A world unbroken by regret.
A world untainted by tragedy.
A world made perfect.
And at the hearth of all creation,
where the first light gathered and did not flee,
our sacred capital was to be laid:
Edelith.
