It's always there, you know. Like some great void swallowing the light of the stars, filling up a third of the sky with its emptiness, it's terrible silence. The Still. The end of all things and the death of Light. It is the absolute, the ultimate darkness, and the source of the great Dark that blankets the world. I watch it sometimes, you know. I reach out to it with my heart and my mind, seeking to understand its shape, its limits, its very nature. My instruments cannot discern anything of its form; its edges are sharp as any knife. My eyes see nothing besides its blackness, and my heart feels its weight as if it might crush the life from me. The Redemptionists claim the Still is the manifestation of sin and by redeeming ourselves we cause the Still to dwindle. I have watched it all my life and have seen no such change. It does not shrink, yet neither does it grow; perhaps sin is not its cause. Our oldest tales say the Still came with the Dark, or perhaps the Dark with the Still. Like some great creature, the Still crossed the heavens to swallow the Light that drenched the Dawn Age and held the Thramorri at bay. There may be some truth to this. In ancient times, the Still was said to own a third of the western sky, but today the Still dwells in the east. Is this not a curious thing? The Still moves; it does not grow, nor does it wane, yet it moves across time measured in millennia. Could it be that with enough time, the Still might pass from our skies completely? What will our world look like then?
Professor Silar Arghosa, Mistress of the Archives at Thalinspire
There are many legends about the nature of the Still, but they are almost all wrong. What some perceive to be a metaphysical reminder of humanity's fall from grace is in reality another world transiting across the skies of Laethelle. It's vast bulk is so great, and its orbit so perfectly in alignment with Laethelle's that every few thousand years, it crosses between Laethelle and its parent star, creating an eclipse so total that virtually all light from the sun is blocked for millennia, until the planets move out of alignment once more. What virtually no one living knows is that the alignment is mere decades from ending - perhaps less. A new Dawn Age is immanent.
The Still is often used to frighten young children into behaving. Along with stories of the Thramorri, the Still is often referenced as a watchful eye in the sky, keeping record of the sins of children and holding them to account. In some of the more lurid tales, children are told that if they misbehave, the Still will send a winged Thramorri messenger to snatch the child and take them up into the sky to be punished forever in the void behind the Still.
The Still holds a central place in the art, literature, and theatre of the world. It appears as a metaphor for despair - or hope, depending on the artist.