Volume I: Ancient Eras

Before now, was then. But then, then was now. What was before now then? The answer is from the then in then.

Because in the beginning, was nothing. The everlasting dark that kept growing darker. And between the void of black, was it. It was what, and what was it. The it was not anything, but the it was not nothing. And then, in the moment of the awakening, came the first hope. A signal, a signal named life. It entered it, and it was now not anything, but was everything. It had become The Great Dominus. An embodiment of virtue and piety. Floating around of the shadows without light, the truths without reason and the bliss without emotion. This, was what came to be called the White Dawn.

This being did not have anything to distract himself from the black that enveloped all. No matter how much of everything The Great Dominus was, there still seemed to be nothing. So he grew desperate. He noticed inconsistencies in the darkness. Gaps of logic in the seams of the void around him. Eventually, this led him to find time itself. As futures, eons, and generations passed him, he kept growing more exasperated of solitude. Emotions had been generated within his brain, making him grow lone enough to feel sadness.

He cried for help in hopes of an answering by something else, but to no avail. To end these vile emotions, he teared his heart out. For everyone to forgot his former self, he peeled of his husk. In a final attempt to forget everything himself, he removed his brain and soul. Yet still, nobody came in his moment of despair. Now only a wretched ruin of what he used to be, the grains of time were able to fall without hindrance.

Only a few eternities had passed when the tears beneath his remains started to flood. Eventually, they completely wrapped around him to create a shell. The celestial magic in his tear allowed this shell to contain his heart, which had unwrapped into a plane of existence. Upon it was his soul, giving life to all that was and ever would be. Yet below it, was nothing. Balance was required, which was realised by The Great Dominus. He finally awakened from his empty slumber and poured his blood upon it. It quickly drenched the surface under the plane with death. Finally, his husk was grinded into meager fragments. Which soon grew into his own creations: The Lywenairs.

They were the first true race, In the beginning, there were only 5, and knew naught but life and death. After countless eternities however, The Great Dominus ascended to another reality, leaving behind his brain ontop the world he created. The final gift he left the Lywenairs was the gift of survival. To continue, the Lywenairs had to contribute to their society. Mundane activities such as eating and discussing now became needs. They were not used to this, and did not understand. But after the Portias Lywenair had fallen, due to starvation, the Lywenairs realised they had to feed. So they sprung towards the brain of their allfather. After each chunk that entered their mouths, they gained an inspiration, Only known as "intelligence." They lived on, eating from the brain once each year, and building houses of the materia the surface was made of.