The Creation of the Fellstones

It was the end of the Seventh Age; or rather, it was supposed to have been. The heroes of Concordia had halted the Daean quest for world domination. Along the perilous path, they succeeded in gathering the Ancient and Revered Artifacts from their ancestral caches as had been prophesied, had faced down those who would have opened the gateway to Oblivion, and made the great stand against the Evil One, the Aeternal Blinn Empress Feathryn. With her terrible Blinn horde halted, her plans to dominate all magicks of the world torn asunder, and her hopes for a humanity-free Nycos obliterated, she had, in the end, failed to destroy the world, or to even halt the rise of the Middle Kingdoms to prosperity. It seemed therefore quite likely that the Iteration would, for this first time in three thousand years, result in a second Golden Age, where Men and Eldrin, Grundim, and the myriad of new Races would make war no more.
Even as the Magi of Chrys, capital of Concordia worked to repair the defenses the Blinn and Daean armies had devastated, the other nations of the world likewise began the arduous task of repairing their own damaged and compromised keeps, holds, and cities. The virtually global war had ravaged for the better part of two decades, and to a man, the world no longer had a taste for it. It seemed the rest had finally come to a weary world.
Yet in the long years hence, when this, the burgeoning Eighth Iteration was in its infancy, an unexpected thing happened. The Champions of Concordia devised a conclusion no one could have imagined for the Planet of the Prism.
Sitting on thrones constructed on the very sight of the greatest, most bloody conflict the world had ever known, the decision was made. No more would the World suffer from the seemingly unending cycle of devastation and rebirth. Robin of the Red Band, The Dragon-blooded Sorceror Lorothol and Rae Sunborne, heart's fire of the team spent long days in the ancient Ling-Ling library poring over the colorful, terrible histories. Subject 216, the Cyborg-hybrid from Mantara, Nym of Nyx, exiled for his efforts, and Kit, Master of the Elements spent months in exploration, discovering what could be known and bringing back the grist for the mill of those great minds. Their misadventures there would fill its own volume; suffice to say, they, at last, chose to enact their plan, and using the discovered configuration in the ancient texts they had long studied, they plotted the final act.
At last, they discovered what they needed to bring their plan to fruition, and made their way to the Whispering Mysts. They traveled light, for it was their plan to never return to their palaces and their holdings. These, they left in the capable hands of the Chrysmagi of Concordia, as a legacy and a remembrance. This, alas, was not to be, as you will see.
At long last, they found their way through the myst and the mystery, to the Inn at the End of Forever.
On the first day of the one thousand four hundredth year of the Seventh Iteration, they screwed their resolve to the sticking place and brought forth their piece of the plot. Each had crafted with care a wish, and together they bound their wills, their lives, and their Artifacts to the purpose.
The plan was elegant, if not diabolical in its scope. They all wished, in that Sevenfold Wish, for all of the horrible things of Nycos' past, to be undone. They had worked the wording precisely and diligently ensured the cascade of the magic from the wishes, to cover incongruences, and in effect to erase nearly ten thousand years of heritage and honorable, sacrificial deaths in the process. The intent, if not the result, was well-meaning. They felt, together, they could build a better new world than the Emissary had begun.
They, alas, had forgotten Felicity, the Faerie Dragon.
Even as their spell-weaving began, their once-ally, seeing the flaw in their wisdom, wove into the magic as well her own hopes of her progeny of one day ascending to Nimbus with her forefathers and ancestors. As in the case of all the prior Iterations, the Seventh would end and the Eighth would begin, though she would never have the children for which she had stridently suffered.
Her efforts, alas, were not able to staunch or satisfy the ravages of the Revening, the destructive wave the SIx had visited on Nycos. The seventh would, for all purposes end unrequited, and all would languish in its death throes for a thousand, two hundred twenty-six years.
Yet there, in the Whyspermysts, as they later were known, the seven Fellstones came into being, the promise of a dragon kept and the key to the salvation of the Planet. In that dark place, Legion came to mourn, and finding them, placed them where one day, the Champion the Last Scion of Nimbus could find them. He would do his ancestor proud in those last days... but that is ANOTHER story.