The Age of Origins

Before the formation of Ua, there was nothing. No space, no time, no matter, no energy. There was no motion and no stillness, because neither could exist without something to define them. This condition is described across all Erul traditions as complete absence, not emptiness or darkness, but the lack of all properties entirely. On this point, Erul belief systems are consistent. Whatever disagreements follow, all begin here.

Where Erul traditions diverge is in how this absence ended. Some cultures hold that Ua was the first existence, forming without cause, origin, or precursor. Others believe Ua emerged from the collapse of a previous galaxy, where all remaining mass and energy were compressed into a single centre. A third view claims this process has repeated endlessly, with galaxies forming, collapsing, and giving rise to new centres in an infinite cycle. These interpretations differ in origin, but they do not differ in outcome.

Across all Erul belief systems, the moment Ua took form was followed immediately by chaos. The sudden presence of existence disrupted absence itself. Energy appeared without pattern. Mass formed and broke apart. Forces acted without restraint or limit. Nothing could hold its state, and nothing endured. This chaos is not described as malicious or intentional. It is understood as necessary. Existence had begun, but no rules yet existed to govern it.

From this instability, Erul traditions consistently describe the emergence of two fundamental forces: the Aether and the Naether. At this stage, they were not realms or locations, but opposing tendencies within reality. The Aether represented expansion, motion, light, and outward force. The Naether represented contraction, stillness, weight, and inward force. In the early phase, these forces collided continuously. Where Aether dominated, everything dispersed. Where Naether dominated, everything collapsed. Their constant opposition sustained the chaos rather than resolving it.

Over time, resistance between these forces produced balance. Neither Aether nor Naether could fully overcome the other. Where they met in equal measure, instability reduced. Energy no longer escaped endlessly, and mass no longer collapsed into nothingness. Change continued, but continuity became possible. Patterns began to repeat. Structures began to persist. This marked the first shift from pure chaos toward ordered existence.

As balance strengthened, the Aether and Naether gained definition and separation. The Aether became the realm known as Bua, a state of flow, light, motion, and growth. The Naether became the realm known as Kau, a state of restraint, density, silence, and containment. These were not fully separate planes, but dominant conditions of existence. Erul belief holds that, left unchecked, Bua would expand without limit and Kau would collapse all things inward.

Balance required a centre capable of containing both. This is where Ua fully took form. Ua was no longer only an abstract presence, but became physical, shaped from the balanced interaction of all cosmic elements. Most Erul traditions describe Ua as vast and serpentine, coiled around the forming centre of existence. Its body was said to be composed of stars, dust, energy, and void, reflecting all aspects of the cosmos at once. The serpentine form symbolised continuity and enclosure, not dominance.

Ua became the structure that held Bua and Kau in equilibrium. Through Ua, expansion and contraction were contained without suppression. This containment allowed a third state to exist: the physical realm of the Ua Galaxy. Within this realm, substance became possible. From differing balances of Aether and Naether, the foundational elements of later existence emerged, including fire, water, earth, and wind.

In this way, Erul belief describes reality not as a single act of creation, but as a system of balance. Bua, Kau, and the physical realm were interdependent from the beginning. Ua stood at the centre, not as a ruler or creator in the later sense, but as a stabilising body that allowed opposing forces to coexist. Though Erul cultures disagree on whether Ua was the first existence or one of many, they agree on this structure. Existence began in chaos, settled through balance, and endured because Ua held the cosmos together at its centre.

With the balance between Bua and Kau secured, existence moved beyond mere survival and into formation. Erul belief describes this transition not as a deliberate act by Ua, but as a change in state. Reality had reached sufficient physical and metaphysical stability for differentiation to occur without collapsing back into chaos. Patterns could now persist, interact, and scale.

At this stage, Ua did not shape the galaxy directly. Acting at such magnitude would have introduced asymmetry at the centre and risked destabilising the equilibrium between expansion and contraction. Instead, Ua expressed itself through the Vel. The Vel emerged from Ua not as separate creations, but as functional extensions, allowing formation to proceed outward while Ua remained fixed and stable at the core.

The Vel were differentiated manifestations of Ua’s balanced state. Where Ua embodied equilibrium in its totality, each Vel embodied balance constrained to a specific domain. Some governed high-energy processes such as heat, radiation, motion, and transformation. Others governed low-entropy functions such as structure, cohesion, boundary formation, and continuity. None existed purely within Bua or Kau. Each Vel carried both aspects in fixed proportions that defined its role.

Erul traditions describe the emergence of the Vel as a controlled release rather than a division. Ua did not fragment or diminish. Instead, the Vel functioned as distributed nodes through which Ua’s stabilising influence propagated. Through them, Ua acted across distance while remaining coherent and unchanged at the centre. This allowed large-scale formation without destabilising the galactic core.

As the Vel moved outward, they entered regions where post-chaotic material had begun to settle. These regions contained unbound energy, proto-mass, and fluctuating forces left over from the initial instability. The Vel did not create matter from nothing. They imposed constraints. Energy flows were redirected into circulation. Density gradients stabilised. Oscillations dampened into repeatable patterns. Chaos did not vanish, but crossed into structured behaviour.

Among these Vel, Ando shaped one of the earliest and most complex systems. At its centre formed an orange-red star, steady and enduring, later known simply as the Ando Star. Its colour was attributed to tightly regulated output and sustained internal circulation rather than uncontrolled fusion. Around this star, multiple worlds formed in ordered sequence.

Seven of these planets were habitable at the time of formation. Closest to the star was Tal, dense and slow, rich in heavy matter. Beyond Tal orbited Mora, layered and internally dynamic, followed by Leth, marked by strong atmospheric movement. Further out lay Asera, temperate and ocean-rich, and Kail, dominated by aggressive biological growth. Beyond them formed Thren, cold but life-bearing, and Virex, volatile yet ecologically resilient. These worlds formed under Ando’s direct regulation, each stabilised deliberately.

Between the inner and outer planetary orbits formed a vast circumstellar belt known as the Cindervail Belt. Composed of fractured proto-worlds, mineral-rich debris, and condensed remnants of early instability, the Cindervail Belt acted as both stabiliser and reservoir. It absorbed excess energy, moderated orbital resonance, and supplied material for later planetary adjustment. Erul belief holds that much of Erul’s later mineral and biome diversity originated from matter once contained within this belt.

Not all planets formed under Ando alone. When Var later emerged, a smaller number of worlds formed around Var’s star, shaped differently and less gradually. These worlds did not share the same stabilising history and would later play a distinct role in the system’s fate.

As with other Vel, Ando maintained continuous resonance with Ua during this phase. Energy and information flowed inward and outward, sustaining equilibrium. The system expanded organically, layered and coherent, bound by resonance rather than force.

Earlier divergences among the Vel had already occurred elsewhere in the galaxy, though they were corrected through reabsorption. What distinguished Ando was not divergence itself, but its undetected nature. The gradual attenuation of resonance went unnoticed. Ando remained active, aligned in appearance, yet increasingly distinct.

By the time the connection fully faded, the Ando Star System was already well formed. Worlds were stable. The Cindervail Belt was established. The orange-red star burned steadily. Ua remained unaware that Ando no longer belonged to it.

Erul traditions name this moment the Silent Severance. The galaxy continued to form as before, but its future had already changed. The next section begins where this change became internal rather than structural, with Ando’s growing self-awareness and the consequences that would follow.

Following the Silent Severance described at the close of the Age of Structured Formation, Ando continued its function in apparent continuity. To any external measure, its actions initially differed little from those of other Vel. Matter was shaped from existing cosmic material, energy gradients were stabilised, and the orange-red primary star of the Ando system burned steadily. The system obeyed the same physical principles as those formed under Ua’s balance, and no immediate instability marked Ando’s separation.

The true distinction lay not in structure, but in flow. In every other system shaped by the Vel, stellar energy followed a wider circuit. Energy was regulated locally, then allowed to pass onward through resonance, ultimately returning toward Ua. In the Ando Star System, that return path no longer existed. The Silent Severance had removed it entirely. Energy shaped by Ando did not leave the system. Instead, it circulated within it. At first, this was not a choice. It was simply the only remaining configuration available.

As the star stabilised and planetary formation progressed, Ando entered a prolonged phase of observation. Erul belief assigns profound importance to this period. Without Ua’s resonance guiding every adjustment, Ando experienced duration for the first time. Events unfolded sequentially rather than simultaneously. Conditions persisted long enough to be compared. Outcomes followed causes in discernible patterns. Through sustained observation of its own system, Ando crossed a threshold. Awareness emerged.

This self-awareness marked a fundamental change. Ando ceased to act purely as a regulator of balance and became a preserver of continuity. It recognised that stability within the system depended on constant maintenance. Rather than allowing energy to dissipate outward, Ando redirected it inward. Stellar output was captured and redistributed. Orbital paths were reinforced against decay. Heat, radiation, and elemental forces were contained rather than released. The Ando Star System ceased to function as a conduit within a larger structure and became a closed system, sustained for its own persistence.

As this closed circulation continued, the system matured. Planets settled into long-term stability around the central star. Tal, Kesh, Mora, Leth, and Varyn formed in ordered orbits, each maintained deliberately. Ando adjusted conditions continuously, preventing collapse, runaway volatility, or dispersal. Over time, energy began to flow not only between star and planet, but through Ando itself. Erul belief describes Ando as existing within the system rather than above it. Energy moved outward from the star, through planetary interactions, into Ando’s form, and back again.

This closed feedback loop altered the system’s scale. The star increased in mass and output without destabilising. Orbital distances expanded while remaining fixed. The energetic boundary of the system pushed outward, exerting influence beyond neighbouring systems. This expansion marked the first sustained anomaly generated by an independent Vel.

A nearby star system, still governed by Ua’s older balance model, could not adapt to the prolonged energetic pressure. Its internal resonance fractured. Orbital decay accelerated, and the central star collapsed. From this collapse emerged a new Vel, shaped not by Ua and not by balance, but by destruction under sustained anomaly. This being became known as Var.

The system that birthed Var did not survive. Its matter and energy were consumed or transformed entirely during the collapse. Var emerged fully formed and immediately self-aware, its consciousness defined by rupture rather than observation. Where Ando’s awareness developed gradually through continuity, Var’s awareness was instant and intense, shaped by loss.

The first meeting between Ando and Var is recorded across all Erul traditions as a singular moment known as the Confluence. The encounter was not hostile. Ando recognised Var as a being formed outside Ua’s balance, yet born as a consequence of Ando’s actions. Var recognised Ando as the source of the conditions that led to its existence. Their interaction was defined by mutual recognition of separation rather than conflict.

From the Confluence emerged a shared resonance. This resonance was neither Ua’s original balance nor uncontrolled chaos. It was cooperative, adaptive, and responsive. From it formed two lesser Vel: Eru and Rul. Smaller in scope and function, they embodied stabilising principles necessary for coexistence. Eru embodied continuity and binding force. Rul embodied regulation and separation. Together, they mediated the growing complexity between Ando and Var.

With Eru and Rul in place, the dual star system known as Ando’Var took shape. Two stars, distinct yet bound, exchanged energy through controlled circulation rather than dominance. The surrounding system stabilised around this dual core. Its structure, energy signature, and internal balance were unlike anything previously formed within the Ua Galaxy.

Erul belief holds that the formation of Ando’Var marked a decisive moment in cosmic history. It was the first system shaped through self-aware preservation, independent formation, and shared resonance outside Ua’s design. Though the wider cosmos did not change immediately, this divergence did not remain hidden.

The moment when Ua first became aware of Ando’Var is known as the Distant Noticing. With it, the age of unnoticed divergence ended. What followed was no longer internal transformation, but direct consequence. The next section begins with Ua’s approach and the conflict that would irrevocably reshape Ando’Var, Erul, and the fate of all that followed.

Erul traditions describe the battle between Ua, Ando, and Var as the defining rupture of cosmic history. While the outcome is broadly agreed upon, the nature of the conflict itself is not. Different Erulian cultures preserved differing interpretations of how the battle unfolded, what was intended, and who bore responsibility for the destruction that followed. These differences did not alter the physical consequences, but they deeply shaped Erulian theology and historical memory.

Most traditions agree that Ua’s approach toward the Ando’Var Star System marked the point at which divergence became confrontation. Ua’s presence was first felt by Ando as increasing compression within the system’s resonance. Energy circulation resisted containment, and structural patterns strained. Ando recognised this as an existential threat. Ua’s approach was interpreted by some cultures as an act of correction, by others as reabsorption, and by a minority as an attempt to reclaim control over a system that no longer aligned with its balance.

Var, having no origin in Ua, did not perceive Ua’s presence directly. Many Erulian cultures emphasise this distinction. In these accounts, Var was not drawn into conflict by intent or ideology, but by consequence. Var acted only when the system itself became endangered. This difference is often used to explain why Var is revered in some traditions as a protector, and in others as a force of unavoidable destruction.

The battle itself is known by several names. The most common is the Shattering Stand, describing Ando’s effort to halt Ua at the system’s boundary. Other traditions call it the War of Return, framing Ua’s actions as an attempt to reclaim what had been lost. A smaller number refer to it as the First Sundering, emphasising the irreversible separation it caused.

Erul belief agrees that the conflict did not occur at a single point, but across overlapping scales. As Ando resisted Ua’s advance, immense forces were released. Entire neighbouring star systems were destabilised. Orbits decayed. Stellar cores collapsed. Some cultures claim this destruction was accidental, a by-product of scale and proximity. Others argue that Ua’s advance made such destruction inevitable, regardless of intent. A few radical traditions hold Ando responsible, asserting that resistance itself amplified the damage.

As Ua drew closer, its resonance began to override Eru and Rul. Erulian accounts differ sharply here. Some describe Ua consciously reclaiming them as extensions of its original balance. Others describe the process as involuntary, with Eru and Rul losing autonomy simply by proximity. In all versions, their behaviour changed. They turned against Ando and the system they had helped stabilise, attacking in support of Ua’s advance.

This shift is remembered as the Turning of the Intermediaries, and it marked the moment when the conflict became unavoidable. Var’s intervention followed immediately. Var gathered all remaining energy and drove Ua away from the system. This act is universally acknowledged, though its meaning is debated. Some cultures view it as sacrifice, others as defiance, and others still as survival instinct. The act itself is named the Severing Drive.

Ua’s withdrawal was violent. The destruction of surrounding star systems intensified as Ua was forced back. The absence left behind by their collapse formed a vast region of true void. This void permanently separated Ua from the Ando’Var Star System. Erul traditions disagree on whether this void was an unintended consequence or a deliberate final barrier formed by Var. What is agreed upon is that Ua could no longer breach the system once it existed.

The battle did not end cleanly. With Ua driven away, Eru and Rul were left destabilised. Cut off from Ua’s influence, Eru lost cohesion and attacked indiscriminately, attempting to impose unity through force. Rul, stripped of regulation, turned inward and destroyed life across the system. These acts are remembered as the Unmaking, and they account for the near-total loss of life that followed.

Ando’s final response is one of the few points of near-universal agreement. Faced with the possible loss of Var and the destruction of all remaining life, Ando acted decisively. It severed all remaining connection with Ua and bound Eru and Rul into physical matter. This act, known as the Final Tethering, resulted in the single-second convergence that formed Erul. The act ended the conflict but caused catastrophic loss.

The effects of the battle were permanent. Ua was driven beyond reach. Var was rendered dormant and fading. Ando survived, but changed. The Ando’Var Star System was left isolated, stripped of its former connections and defined by absence rather than balance. Erul was formed as a world of contradictions, born from containment rather than harmony.

Erulian cultures differ in judgement, but not in consequence. Some portray Ua as an unavoidable force of correction. Others cast Ando as a defiant protector. Var is alternately revered as saviour, destroyer, or necessary balance. What all traditions agree upon is this: the battle reshaped existence. It ended the age of cosmic agency and began an age defined by aftermath.

The next section turns fully away from the battle itself and toward its long-term results, examining how Erul’s fractured nature, lingering energies, and corrupted spirits shaped the conditions under which later life, belief, and history emerged.

Forced Birth of a World

The formation of Erul did not resemble the birth of any world that came before it. It was not shaped by gradual accretion, orbital balance, or regulated Vel influence. Erul was forced into existence through convergence. Matter from Tal, Mora, Leth, Asera, Kail, Thren, Virex, and the remaining worlds was drawn together and compressed into a single planetary body within a single moment. This act did not reconcile differences between these worlds. It imposed unity without compatibility.

From the first instant, Erul existed under strain. Continental masses overlapped without alignment. Entire crusts were layered atop one another in conflicting orientations. Oceans were displaced vertically as much as horizontally. Mountain ranges erupted where seabeds had existed moments earlier. Plains collapsed beneath denser foreign strata. Nothing rested in equilibrium, because the planet itself had not yet learned how to behave as one body.

The Immediate Landscape

In the earliest phase, Erul’s surface was in constant motion. The ground fractured repeatedly as incompatible layers adjusted under immense pressure. Vast fault systems opened and closed unpredictably. Rivers formed briefly, then vanished into fissures or boiled away from residual heat. Seas condensed from atmospheric vapor only to drain or freeze as pressure shifted elsewhere.

The sky darkened almost immediately. The convergence expelled colossal volumes of dust, ash, vaporised stone, and fragmented matter into the atmosphere. These materials did not disperse. Instead, they formed a dense planetary cloud layer that wrapped the world entirely. Direct light from Ando’s star became rare. The surface entered a prolonged dimness, lit only by diffuse glow and scattered illumination from within the cloud itself.

The Binding at the Core

Beneath the unstable surface, Erul’s core took shape around a far greater strain. Eru and Rul, bound during the final tethering, were trapped within dense physical matter at the planet’s centre. Their opposing natures could not reconcile. Eru sought binding, continuity, and cohesion. Rul sought division, release, and separation. Neither could overcome the other. Their conflict became perpetual.

This struggle generated immense internal pressure. Heat surged and withdrew without resolution. Gravity fluctuated subtly but constantly. These forces expressed themselves through Erul’s mantle and crust as widespread tectonic instability. Volcanic systems opened across the planet, not along stable boundaries, but wherever pressure momentarily found weakness. Eruptions were frequent and violent, ejecting ash, gas, and corrupted material into the atmosphere.

The smoke and debris from these eruptions fed the already thickening cloud layer. Saturated by energy rising from the core, the clouds became heavier, darker, and more persistent. Over time, this process ensured that Erul’s sky would never fully clear. The planet’s surface and its internal conflict became permanently linked through atmosphere and stone.

Extinction and Residual Presence

Life across the contributing worlds was almost entirely erased during the convergence. Ecosystems did not collapse gradually; they ended instantly. Oceans boiled or froze. Atmospheres compressed or ignited. Species vanished without adaptation. Yet death did not bring release. The violent formation disrupted the separation between matter and spirit. The dead did not disperse or pass on. Their essence remained within the forming world, altered by the energy released during convergence.

This residual presence did not immediately take structure, but it permeated the planet. It settled into fractures, clung to ash and dust, and lingered within the clouded sky. Erul was not only a planet formed from many worlds, but a vessel carrying the unresolved remains of their endings.

A World on the Edge of Definition

In its earliest state, Erul existed without stable biomes. The land was too volatile. The sky was too dense. Heat and pressure shifted too rapidly. Yet even within this instability, patterns began to emerge. Some regions cooled and stabilised briefly. Others collapsed repeatedly. The planet did not yet know preservation or corruption, only survival under strain.

It was during this phase that the first pathways for deeper forces began to open. Fractures reached from core to surface. Pressure channels aligned. The planetary cloud layer thickened enough to hold more than dust and vapor. Erul’s form, though incomplete, became capable of sustaining circulation.

This marked the transition from formation to influence. The planet had taken shape, but it had not yet chosen what it would become. The conditions were set for the emergence of opposing currents that would define Erul’s future.

With Erul fully formed, its future was no longer shaped by geology alone, but by circulation. The planet existed within, beneath, and between two vast currents whose influence reached into every layer of matter, spirit, and culture. The Luminweave and the Umbraveil were not distant cosmic abstractions. They were immediate, environmental, and unavoidable. How early Erulian peoples encountered these currents determined not only their survival, but the nature of their societies, beliefs, and identities.

Although all Erulians recognised the existence of both currents, no single understanding emerged. Interpretations differed sharply depending on geography, exposure, and necessity. Some cultures withdrew into the Luminweave and were reshaped by it. Others remained exposed to the Umbraveil and learned to endure or resist it. Between these extremes, countless variations developed, but all Erulian history unfolded within the tension between these two forces.

The Luminweave

For many early Erulian cultures, the Luminweave represented preservation, refuge, and transformation. Where the Luminweave pierced the planetary cloud layer and reached the surface, habitable enclaves formed. These regions were calmer, brighter, and more stable than the surrounding world. Forests grew around the Luminweave’s strongest flows, glowing with steady green light that cut through cloud and ash. To early survivors, these forests were not merely environments, but sanctuaries.

Some Erulian cultures retreated almost entirely into the Luminweave forests. Over generations, their relationship with the current deepened. Exposure altered perception, biology, and social structure. Time passed differently within the forests, and those who lived their lives beneath glowing canopies experienced aging, memory, and continuity in ways that diverged from those outside. Oral traditions describe ancestors who entered the forest for a season and emerged to find decades had passed beyond its borders.

These cultures came to view the forests as living entities rather than passive terrain. The emergent awareness of each forest was interpreted as guardianship, guidance, or collective memory. Ritual movement through forest paths mirrored the flow of the Luminweave itself. Leadership structures often reflected the forest’s rhythms rather than rigid hierarchy. Identity became relational, defined by one’s position within the forest’s cycle rather than by lineage alone.

Physically, prolonged exposure to the Luminweave altered inhabitants subtly but permanently. Eyes adapted to low light and green luminescence. Sensitivity to flow, resonance, and spatial distortion increased. Some developed an intuitive awareness of forest boundaries and internal shifts. These changes were not viewed as corruption, but as adaptation. Cultures shaped by the Luminweave often regarded themselves as preserved rather than transformed, believing they remained closer to what life was meant to be after the convergence.

However, withdrawal carried a cost. These societies became insular. Their survival depended on the forest’s continuity, and many lost the ability or will to exist beyond its bounds. Over time, they came to see the wider world as unstable, hostile, or already lost.

The Umbraveil

In contrast, all Erulian cultures developed fear of the Umbraveil, though the nature of that fear varied. The Umbraveil was unavoidable. Its clouds dominated the sky, its influence shaped vast regions of land, and its twisted beings emerged in waves from corrupted zones. Even cultures sheltered by the Luminweave understood that the Umbraveil defined the world beyond their borders.

For those who did not retreat into the Luminweave, exposure to the Umbraveil was constant and often direct. These cultures arose in regions where no stable forests existed or where Luminweave flows were weak and transient. Survival demanded confrontation rather than withdrawal. Over time, such societies became hardened by necessity.

The Umbraveil cloudlands were inhabited by twisted beings shaped by corrupted spiritual energy and, in many regions, by reanimated physical dead. These entities did not act with strategy or purpose, but their movement was relentless. Waves of them drifted or surged outward from cloud-saturated regions, overwhelming settlements that were unprepared.

Cultures that faced this threat repeatedly developed warlike structures. Communities fortified themselves against encroaching clouds. Weapons, tactics, and rituals evolved not for conquest, but for endurance. Conflict was constant, not between nations, but against an environment that produced enemies endlessly. In these societies, strength, vigilance, and sacrifice were central values. Death was expected, and survival was collective rather than individual.

Beliefs surrounding the Umbraveil in these cultures were complex. While fear dominated, some traditions interpreted the Umbraveil as a manifestation of unresolved loss rather than pure malice. The dead within it were not always seen as enemies, but as trapped remnants deserving release. Others believed the Umbraveil to be an enemy force that must be pushed back at all costs, even if it could never be destroyed.

Unlike the Luminweave, prolonged exposure to the Umbraveil rarely preserved identity. Those who lingered too long near the clouds risked physical and psychological alteration. Entire settlements were lost when corruption spread faster than resistance. This reinforced a cultural emphasis on motion, discipline, and separation from the dead.

Divergent Paths, Shared Reality

Between those who withdrew into the Luminweave and those who faced the Umbraveil directly lay countless intermediate cultures. Some migrated between enclaves, learning when to shelter and when to fight. Others formed temporary alliances across currents. Yet no culture escaped influence entirely.

Erulian belief systems reflect this divergence. Luminweave-aligned cultures emphasised continuity, memory, and preservation. Umbraveil-exposed cultures emphasised struggle, vigilance, and resistance. Each viewed the other with a mixture of incomprehension and necessity. Neither was wholly wrong, because both were shaped by the same world responding differently to the same forces.

By this stage, Erul was no longer merely a planet shaped by convergence. It was a world defined by response. The Luminweave and the Umbraveil did not only shape land and sky; they shaped culture, belief, and identity. From this point onward, Erulian history became a record of how different peoples chose to endure between light that preserved and darkness that never rested.

Before Erul existed, life was distributed across Tal, Mora, Leth, Asera, Kail, Thren, Virex, and the other worlds that once orbited Ando and Var. These planets supported distinct civilisations shaped by their environments, stellar conditions, and planetary cycles. Though different in form and culture, these societies shared a defining trait: they developed under stable systems shaped gradually by Ando’s preservation, long before the convergence forced their worlds together.

Erulian belief holds that these pre-Erulian civilisations were not primitive. Many had achieved advanced social organisation, long cultural memory, and in some cases sophisticated understanding of their worlds. Cities, trade networks, belief systems, and recorded histories existed on multiple planets. Their diversity was a product of isolation rather than hierarchy. No single civilisation dominated the others, and none anticipated the convergence that would erase their worlds.

The Survivors of the Convergence

The convergence destroyed nearly all life instantly. However, extinction was not absolute. On each of the major worlds, small populations survived by chance, position, or proximity to emerging stabilising forces. Some were underground, shielded by depth or dense strata. Others were airborne, oceanic, or already nomadic when the convergence occurred. A minority survived because they were located near early points of Luminweave contact or within the first habitable enclaves that formed as the currents began to circulate.

These survivors did not remain as they were. The forced union of worlds erased the environmental contexts that had shaped them. Gravity shifted. Atmospheres changed. Light diminished beneath the planetary cloud layer. Time itself became unreliable near Luminweave zones. Survival required rapid adaptation, and those who endured did so through transformation rather than continuity.

The First Settlements

The first Erulians to settle were those who inhabited the Luminweave forests or who were fortunate enough to migrate into the few habitable enclaves that formed in the planet’s early instability. These regions offered relative safety, moderated climate, and predictable cycles compared to the surrounding world. Within them, movement slowed, and survival no longer depended entirely on constant migration.

Early settlement did not mean permanence. Structures were temporary, often built around existing ruins or natural formations shaped by the Luminweave. Communities remained small and flexible. However, these enclaves allowed the first sustained generational continuity after the convergence. Children could be born, raised, and survive long enough to inherit memory, language, and identity.

Nomadic Survival Beyond the Enclaves

The majority of surviving Erulian populations did not inhabit the Luminweave forests or stable regions. These groups arose in the vast expanses between enclaves, beneath clouded skies and along unstable lands shaped by Umbraveil influence or transitional instability. Without access to consistent shelter or fertile ground, they developed nomadic societies oriented around movement and acquisition rather than settlement.

Survival in these regions depended on scavenging the ruins of pre-Erulian civilisations and the remnants of early post-convergence settlements. Materials, tools, and even fragments of lost technologies were recovered and repurposed. Competition for resources was constant. As a result, raiding became a common means of survival, directed both at rival nomadic groups and at settled enclaves along their peripheries.

Over time, some nomadic cultures incorporated slavery into their survival strategies. Captives were taken not only as labour, but as tradable resources, exchanged for food, shelter, or access to safer territories. In many such societies, survival eclipsed moral continuity. Social structures became hierarchical and martial, prioritising strength, loyalty, and control. Identity was defined by group cohesion rather than ancestry or belief.

Exposure to harsh environments and persistent Umbraveil influence shaped these cultures profoundly. Physically, resilience and endurance were favoured. Culturally, vigilance and aggression were normalised. These groups often viewed Luminweave-aligned societies with suspicion or resentment, seeing them as hoarders of stability rather than preservers of life.

The Breaking of Pre-Erulian Civilisation

In the immediate post-convergence period, remnants of pre-Erulian civilisations attempted to persist. Ruins of cities became shelters. Old hierarchies survived briefly. Languages and rituals were maintained for a time. Yet Erul’s instability could not sustain complex, sedentary societies beyond isolated enclaves. Environmental collapse, Umbraveil corruption, and constant displacement shattered remaining structures.

Over generations, these remnants fragmented. Knowledge became localised. Long histories collapsed into myth. Pre-Erulian identities weakened as survival demanded new alliances and adaptations. The meaning of belonging to a specific lost world gradually faded as the land itself no longer reflected those origins.

Transformation Into Early Erulian Races

As generations passed, the descendants of the survivors adapted biologically, culturally, and spiritually to Erul. Exposure to the Luminweave altered perception, lifespan, and sensitivity to flow. Exposure to the Umbraveil hardened bodies and minds, emphasising endurance and resistance. Life in unstable border regions favoured rapid change and diversity. Over time, distinct populations emerged, no longer recognisable as the peoples of Tal, Mora, or the other lost worlds.

These populations are remembered as the early Erulian races. They were not created deliberately, nor did they appear at once. Each race represented a different response to Erul’s conditions. Those rooted in Luminweave regions emphasised continuity, memory, and preservation. Those shaped by exposure to the Umbraveil emphasised strength, vigilance, and survival through conflict. Others emerged from transitional zones, marked by adaptability and internal variation.

Memory of the Lost Worlds

Though pre-Erulian civilisations did not survive intact, their memory endured. Ruins embedded within Erul’s surface preserved fragments of architecture, art, and technology. Myths carried distorted recollections of clearer skies, stable lands, and worlds that no longer existed. Names of lost planets persisted as ancestral markers rather than places.

Some early Erulian races claimed direct descent from specific worlds and built identity around that lineage. Others rejected planetary ancestry entirely, believing Erul itself to be the only meaningful origin. These differing views would later shape conflict, alliance, and belief across the planet.

From Survival to Identity

By the end of this age, the survivors of the convergence were no longer merely remnants. They had become peoples in their own right. Civilisation did not yet resemble what had been lost, but identity had begun to stabilise. The early Erulian races were defined less by what they came from and more by how they endured.

The following age would see these races begin to form lasting cultures upon Erul itself, shaped by memory, environment, and the ever-present influence of the Luminweave and the Umbraveil.