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Eiglay was the first of the gods, the World Serpent who held all potential for life within himself. Having consumed the world that came before, he birthed a single egg and then laid down to die. While the egg slumbered deep within the molten core of the world, Eiglay’s corpse lay unburied. The Twinbird descended to peck out his eyes, and where the cold blood spilled there sprang up a sapling.
The sapling grew tall and black, beset by thorns. This was the birth of the World Tree -- the Lampwood Tree, vessel of souls. The Twinbird roosted in its branches.
As a being of twinned natures, the Twinbird gave birth to two broods. The Deathbirds, corpse-eaters who embodied the decay of the flesh, and the Angels, winged maidens who embodied the immortality of the soul.
When the Numen sailed from across the fog, they found the Lampwood Tree and its ghost-light towering above all. They built their city of Helphen at its roots, and they both feared and worshipped the Twinbird. For they were a long-lived people, and they dreaded the end all the more for it.
Far across the stars, a spawn of the void fixed its eye upon the Lands Between. It sent forth soldiers graven from stone, raining as a shower of meteors upon the Lands and led by generals of onyx and alabaster.
The greatest amongst these were the dragons, animate stone armed with the power of the storm. They were the teeth and claws of the void, and none could withstand them. In a final desperate stand, the angels met them in a great battle in the sky. In an early mirror of the Dread Communion, the angels allowed themselves to be devoured. In doing so, they granted the dragons the gift of free will.
Now imbued with souls of their own, the dragons took names for themselves and turned against their former masters. Led by the mighty Placidusax, the Lord of the True Storm, they hounded the lords of the void from the Lands Between. They raised up beasts to serve them, giving the gifts of will and reason as they had been given in turn, and they raised up their city of Farum Azula to the south of the Lampwood Tree.
When they looked upon the eternal dragons, the Numen resented their own mortality all the more. In all things, they sought to cheat death. They built great stone golems to fight their wars. They hid away within their walled city, prolonging their years through alchemy and dark hexes. And at last they created beings made by hands, the children of silver. They sent these thralls out to do the work of the living, to risk and to struggle, while the Numen hid away as if already entombed.
As the dread of death consumed every waking moment, the Numen dwindled in splendor and in number. They built grand mausoleums to house their dead while the homes of the living stood empty. They embalmed their forefathers and set them in places of honor while their sons died childless. They spent their years seeking the riddle of immortality, and all the while they left the business of living to their silver thralls. And at the end Helphen became a mausoleum in truth, street upon street lined with manors for the dead while those few who still lived lingered in ruined houses and dark corners.
The Numen remnant who rejected this slow entombment intermarried with the children of silver, and their descendants were the Nox. These were a people equal in stature and nobility to the Numen of old, and where their fathers had cowered at the shadow of death, the Nox looked to the stars.
Having seen the calamity that had once fallen from the stars, the Nox set themselves to study the movements of the firmament. They raised the Eternal City of Nokceles atop the dead city of Helphen, and in the years to come they established the sister cities of Nokron and Nokstella.
As their crowning achievement, the Nox constructed the Black Moon, a gravitational well of such magnitude that it could guide the paths of the very stars.
It came to pass that the Twinbird hated the dragons. The great raven coveted the warmth of the living, and it sought to gather all souls back to itself. While the Deathbirds continued to bring it ashes to eat, with the loss of the angels all the souls of the newly dead were left to roam free. Most of all, the Twinbird hated the ancient dragons, for they lived without fear of death and refused to relinquish their souls.
In the midst of this, a great ember fell to earth, the burning core of a red star. A giant by the name of Uhl took it up, for the giants had ever worshiped the flame. He sought to carry it down to the Lampwood Tree, to break the hold of death and lay the seed of a new age.
The Twinbird descended upon him in great fury, cold ghostflame in its wings. It would have snuffed out the ember and Uhl with it if not for the intercession of Placidusax. Twice the dragon and the raven clashed within the storm, and twice death was beaten back. At their third meeting, the Twinbird cast down Placidusax and ripped away one of the dragon’s five heads.
Uhl might have fallen then, but the lords of the Nox raised up their Black Moon as a shield. For a few precious moments, they confounded the Twinbird. Then Uhl split open the black tree of souls and planted the ember within its heart.
As souls once frozen and calcified mixed into a great molten core, the World Tree changed -- no longer the Lampwood, guide of souls, it became the Crucible, the wellspring of life. Uhl carved the face of the Fell God upon his breast and named himself the god of the Age of Fire, and he welcomed Placidusax as his lord and consort.
Now the Nox were consumed by envy, for they were proud, and while they were permitted to exist within Uhl’s order they were given no place of prominence. As their bitterness festered, they fell to the vices of their forefathers.
They delved once more into alchemy, seeking to thwart the very laws of nature. They raised up thralls of their own, silver tears as warriors and albinaurics as menial slaves. They denied that they had ever been born of silver, and they were all the crueler to their creations for it.
At the height of their hubris, they called out to the void that they had once sought to hold at bay. For it was whispered amongst their most gifted scholars, if a Black Moon made by hands could sway the paths of stars, then what power had set those paths in the beginning?
Might there be a god of the void, a Dark Moon of whom their Black Moon was only a paltry imitation? Might this god be beckoned, coaxed to inhabit a mortal vessel as the Fell God had inhabited Uhl?
By the labor of their greatest alchemists, the Nox crafted a vessel for the Dark Moon, an Empyrean born of silver, a Lord of Night to challenge the Lord of Fire. But in the end they were taken by the very void they had beckoned, dragged beneath the earth and left to grow low and stunted.
And as the age of the Nox perished in its infancy, a new star fell to earth. An unnatural thing, a beast of light that despised the chaos of the living, a beast of void that denied the primacy of death. And from the ruined scions of the Numen, the Beast plucked an Empyrean vessel.