Sapphire went to their mother, and he asked for one more gift from Her, something that he would use to combat his sister’s wanton carelessness, and to show her the error of her ego. The Allmother, expecting this, excitedly gave a great gift from Her very soul to him. Twisting with anticipation, his mother watched as Arwen took beast in hand and gave unto them this gift, and built them up to be as proud, jealous, and lofty as the Sun.
The Allmother gave Arwen Her Wit, and so ascended the Pneumanine.
A perfect blend of God and beast, the Pneumanine were and are a proud, haughty race. They became the immediate pinnacle of the realm, and thought of themselves as gods. This, the wise God of Sapphire thought, would certainly be the ultimate downfall of his sister, for her own semblance would surely tear itself and her asunder.
Alas, poor idealistic Sapphire underestimated their strength of will, and with the rise of their castles they gave praise to the Sun for the light and warmth of day. Even as they drove back her Duanine to the corners of the realm and the rest of nature was cut aside, the praises of these perfect mortals were all to Er’yn’s great pleasure; they could do no wrong by her. Arwen felt betrayed by his own children in witness of the mighty spread of Man, victors of the day and the best of mortals.
So very ashamed was the God of Sapphire by this that he withdrew in exile to the edges of the realm, ever watching with ten thousand eyes, yet only a whisper in their minds of Man, forever overshadowed by the blazing Sun. Er’yn rose high o'er the Pneumanine as they rejoiced under an eternal day, but the debts of the Celestials would come to bear their ugly harvest: a darkness was stirring in the Allmother.
