The Weave and the Leylines
The Twofold Structure of Reality
For those who seek understanding, know this: reality was never merely a void into which magic was poured, nor was it a chaotic, unbound force waiting to be shaped by the will of the powerful. The foundation of existence itself was a balance—one carefully woven into the fabric of creation by the Matron and tempered by the hands of the Netherese. It was not an accident, nor a byproduct of divine will, but a design—a structure that held together time, fate, magic, and the fundamental laws of existence.
But nothing lasts forever.
When the Forsakening shattered this careful design, the multiverse was left wounded. The great Weave, the structure that bound all things into harmony, was torn asunder, and with it, the cosmic balance faltered. The Leylines, the silent lifeblood of all creation, persisted—but without the Weave to guide them, they twisted, broke, and surged wildly. The world did not end that day, but it was forever changed.
The Weave: The Loom of Existence
Many believe the Weave was simply a reservoir of magic, a lattice from which mortals could draw arcane power. Such thinking is the folly of those who do not see beyond their own grasp. Magic was merely a byproduct of the Weave’s true purpose—it was the foundation upon which reality was built, a design that ensured that gods, mortals, and all beings in between could exist within a structured order, rather than being lost to chaos.
The Weave bound time to its course, ensuring past, present, and future did not collapse upon one another. It held the firmament in place, anchoring the stars so they would not drift into the void. It dictated the rhythms of life and death, ensuring that even the gods themselves were bound by fate. Those who walked the paths of magic, whether through study or divine grace, were not creators but weavers, pulling upon the threads already woven into reality’s tapestry.
But the Weave was not an accident. It was woven.
The Matron and the Netherese: The Architects of Order
At the dawn of the first age, the Weave was raw, an unfocused expanse of potential. The Matron—whether a goddess, a force beyond divinity, or something older still—is said to have been the first to shape it, giving it form, purpose, and order. But she did not work alone. The Netherese, the first true masters of magic, aided her in refining its structure. They were more than sorcerers; they were engineers of existence itself, crafting the framework that would guide magic, fate, and power throughout the ages.
Why did they do this? Because they knew that without the Weave, unchecked forces would reign supreme. There would be no difference between gods and mortals, no true measure of what was possible and what was forbidden. Magic, without structure, would not be a gift or a tool—it would be an all-consuming storm, one that would burn away all meaning and existence itself.
But the Weave was not simply a cage. It allowed for ambition, but with consequence. It permitted gods to rule, but with limits. It let mortals rise, but only if they followed the paths dictated by fate. This was its greatest strength—and, as some would later believe, its greatest flaw.
The Leylines: The Lifeblood of Creation
Beneath all things, beneath the land, the sea, and even the heavens, something deeper flows—the Leylines, ancient and primal. Where the Weave was crafted, the Leylines have always existed. They are the pulse of creation itself, the rivers of raw power that flow unseen through every world, binding it together at a fundamental level.
But the Leylines are not magic. Not truly. They do not grant power, nor do they bestow spells upon those who seek them. They are older than such things, deeper than any god’s dominion. They are the natural force that allows the world to exist at all. Fire burns because the Leylines dictate it can. Water flows because they allow it to move. The sky holds aloft because the Leylines sustain its presence. Without them, reality would unravel into dust and nothingness.
The Weave and the Leylines: The Great Intertwining
For ages beyond memory, the Weave and the Leylines worked in concert. The Weave provided structure, dictating what should be. The Leylines provided flow, dictating how it happened. The two were separate, yet bound together like the warp and weft of a grand cosmic loom.
- The Weave ensured that magic was structured, but the Leylines powered the casting of spells.
- The Weave dictated fate, but the Leylines carried the forces that made fate possible.
- The Weave allowed gods to manifest power, but the Leylines sustained the world that gave them dominion.
This was the balance upon which all things rested. Without it, even the most powerful of beings could not defy fate. Even the gods were bound by the Great Intertwining, their powers limited by what the Weave allowed and what the Leylines could support.
It was a perfect balance. Until it was not.
Harmony Before the Fall
For an age untold, this system endured. The Netherese, alongside the Matron, worked to maintain it, refining its structure, ensuring that power never exceeded control. The Weave grew stronger, its patterns more intricate. Magic flourished, but always within the boundaries set by fate and reality itself. Even the most powerful archmages and divine beings were subject to these laws.
But there were whispers—voices in the dark, minds that saw the Weave not as a grand design, but as a shackle. Some claimed that the Weave prevented true mastery of the arcane, that it placed an artificial limit on what mortals and gods alike could achieve. Others feared that the Weave, in its intricate structure, had become too rigid—that it allowed for no true change, no evolution.
And then came the Forsakening.
When the Weave shattered, it did not simply vanish—it broke. The patterns that once governed reality unraveled, leaving only echoes behind. The Leylines, once guided by its structure, were left to twist wildly, surging and collapsing, no longer bound by harmony. Magic became unstable, fate became uncertain, and those who had once been limited by the Weave’s design found themselves suddenly free.
Not all saw this as a loss. Some saw it as an opportunity.
The Netherese, once the architects of the Weave, saw its ruin as a challenge—a chance to build something greater. Others, less bound by reason, saw it as the end of control itself. Without the Weave, what was left to stop them from taking all that they desired?
And so began the great war, the long struggle to either restore what was lost or to forge something new in its place. The battle for reality itself.
The Question That Remains
Now, in the wake of all that has passed, only uncertainty remains. The Weave is broken, its fragments scattered. The Leylines persist, but without guidance, they are dangerous and wild. Some seek to restore what was lost. Others seek to replace it with something new.
And some, perhaps the most dangerous of all, seek only to let the world burn, to let the forces of unchecked power decide the future of existence.
The Weave is broken. The Leylines remain.
But the fate of reality itself has yet to be woven.
