The Sundered Heart

The only two known cultures who focus significantly on the past are those least accustomed to retelling it: the giants, and the dragons. One of them will kill you for asking, the other will wait for you to explain why you're asking before killing you.

— Master Lorian, Lorekeeper of Athrandul

In the midst of Zuritha's borders, there is a place where rolling green hills gives way to a dry and rocky wasteland. It is so dry, the earth itself develops cracks a person can stick a hand in to the wrist. The further one travels towards the heart of the wastes, the more violently it appears to be broken, with great boulders seemingly deposited on the surface like one might drop pebbles. There are ravines and rises which have always been difficult to traverse without significant aid, but from the air a crater is visible near the center. Trying to approach it has never ended well, with odd wind currents forcing any flight to land or be forced to the ground.

Naturally, this has given rise to the stories about the "forbidden land", but there wasn't a good story about its origins until Sage Ekatril of Myrisic met with a dragon. The meeting was a remarkable affair, as Ekatril was able to convince the dragon to share stories of times predating all other peoples of the world. Whether or not this is all a true account is impossible to fathom in the current era, but tales have an importance all their own...

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Summary

A great slab was carved from the side of a mountain by the Father's claws, and the Twins were beckoned to stand before either side and write Their grievances. The Father reviewed each, quieting the Sister with a snap of the tail while a firm glare told the Brother not to gloat. Once finished, He rose up on His hind legs and smote the slab in two. "As you cannot reconcile your differences, My children, forever shall you be separated. And My favor will not pass to you. The world shall never belong to you, but to those who come after."

— Excerpt from "Of the Sundering",
as translated by Sage Ekatril from High Draconic

In the earliest days of the world, there were only dragons and their kin, yet there was still conflict. Two vastly different creeds had evolved over time from the simplest of misunderstandings: the role of dragons in the world yet to come. It was always understood the Gods would introduce new creations to the world, who could seem to be lesser than the majesty of dragons. As time wore on and the expectations grew, dragons became divided on how to handle the inevitable. Some thought it imperative the dragons would act as guides and role models for the younger mortals. Others were convinced a more active hand was needed, to step in and rule over those who could not ever know more than the dragons. The Gods were not immune to the same concerns, and so it came to pass a rift formed in the heavens far deeper than the one on Erisdaire. Wythra thought dragons would need to show their power, or never be taken seriously by the lesser beings. Pelaris instead counseled the need to show patience and wisdom, as it was obvious dragons would overpower all others. Brother and sister began to seek dominance over the other, as their mortal followers stopped debating and began to embrace the discordance. And thus they were forever changed.

Wythra's brood chose to spread out into the world, believing it necessary to adapt to thrive on the high mountain peaks as well as the harsh warm deserts. Fetid waters of the marshlands, tangled growths of deep woodlands - all of these places were the birthright of dragonkind. So Wythra invested Her energies into those dragons who followed Her creed, and those children changed to not just adapt but thrive in such environments. Thus Her children spread into the world to conquer its challenges, suited to survive in any extremes. Their hides became thick, nigh-impenetrable to any other beasts in the world, with hues reflecting the chosen territories. Thus the "chromatic" dragons came to the world, imposing their own order wherever they wandered, in the name of their mistress: Wythra.

Pelaris, however, chose to teach His children to lead through example and demonstrate the best qualities of living. When the lesser people would enter the world, it would fall to His brood to inspire instead of enslave. This ideal of the "shining soul" was written onto the souls of those following the Brother, altering the physical forms. The dragons' hides took on a shining gleam, as their bodies became suited either to subdue their enemies, or destroy them should it become necessary. At the same time merciful and terrible, yet devoted to seeing the world changed to represent virtues which would benefit all over longer periods of time. The "metallic" dragons would demonstrate the virtues and ideals Pelaris saw as central to civilization, and be ready to snuff out those who would spoil it.

The long lives of dragons meant there were not centuries but millennia which passed with the discord between these two broods growing stronger. The very world itself buckled and shaped to the mighty wills of the eldest mortal dragons, Firstborn and second only to Gods. Yet the animosity continued until the Father - He who created both Brother and Sister - sought to understand Their grievances. Enraged by His children failing to unify or even accept the best parts of the other's views, the Father cast both out and declared the world would belong to neither of them. Wythra blamed Her sibling, claiming an inflexible nature He inspired in His brood would doom them all. Pelaris stoically accepted the notion, and retorted how the chaos of constant change was no better. So it was the Twin Dragons were forever sundered and the 'Sundering War' began.

The place where it was done bore the scars of the meeting, and the blow of the Father broke the land itself into a tumbled mess of barren stone. It is said those who can reach the Heart will find the oldest secrets of dragonkind etched in fragments of stone. Assuming, of course, dragons are willing to allow any lesser being to steal from this sacred place.

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Historical Basis

According to the Sages, the stories from which this tale spring were recovered by Sage Ekatril of Athrandul. A rather unremarkable youth with a drive to prove his value, Ekatril decided to travel to the "forbidden land" in Zuritha in order to write about its true nature. It was almost a decade before he was seen again - as a pile of charred bones and flesh appearing in the midst of a teleportation destination used by residents for long-distance travel. Despite the horrendous state of the body, a large box was found of a deep indigo metal unlike any other was spared the destructive fire. Inside were several dozen scrolls of vellum which had been written in a personal cipher, requiring time to decode. Among these was a short note simply reading: "I received more than I bargained for, and paid with more than I would willingly give. -E".

As the cipher was broken, and the contents translated to suggest being a considerable amount of draconic lore, Ekatril's bones were encased in transparent crystal and enshrined at the library of Athrandul. A phrase was etched into the face of the crystal, to serve as a warning to aspiring young researchers: "Knowledge can be just as dangerous to seek, as ignorance is when acting. Take caution always."

The veracity of those scrolls were always in question until there was a visitor in recent years who helped inadvertently support the truth of their contents. A dragonkin visiting the library for a routine request on behalf of Imperial Arcanists saw Ekatril's crystalline grave and immediately became agitated, asking about "the tale-thief" and demanding to know how we acquired the corpse. A number of evasive statements and veiled references made suggested there had indeed been some event of importance - and Ekatril had managed to escape with knowledge other mortals weren't meant to hear about. Upon hearing the "stolen" knowledge had already been copied and dispersed to other libraries in the East, the dragonkin left in a hurry and gave unsubtle allusions to a reckoning for those who had handled the box of scrolls. To this date, however, no retribution has befallen any part of Zuritha or Myrisic.

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