Listen now to what I tell you, and listen well, for you will not hear this truth anywhere else in the world. Our ways have been erased by the passage of time and the weakening of our kin. 

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At the beginning of All Things, there were a Sun and a Moon. They lived alone in the Void of the cosmos.  Their position was lonely, for they were the only two in the universe. They played games to pass the time, the planets their marbles, the stars their glowflies to catch and count. They were joined in their loneliness, and this turned to love.

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When Sun and Moon made love, their seed fell to the planets and became the new life. In this way Sun and Moon made many beautiful creatures upon many planets. But because their lovemaking was passionate and without reason, so too did the planets develop without reason. They were chaotic places full of warring species, and over time one species would rise to the top as dominant. This was the Law of Strength.

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On a planet called Draumir, the dominant species were the hua’numti, or the Adversaries. (The operans name them “moonborn”, but this is a false naming. They were born of both Sun and Moon, as all things are.) The hua’numti believed themselves the most powerful creatures not just of Draumir, but of the whole universe. They bellowed a challenge to all other species - a challenge to meet them on their planet and engage in battle. This greatly pleased Sun and Moon, who believed in the Law of Strength over all things. 

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Many species answered the challenge of the hua’numti. They soaked the soil with hua’numti blood and razed the planet to rid them of their sustenance. Yet in the fury of each battle, the hua’numti always prevailed. As an honor to their favored children, Sun and Moon bestowed upon the hua’numti the Gift of Regeneration, a magic that could heal nearly any ailment.

 

Thus it was for many more eons than you can even imagine. Species would arise from the Law of Strength, challenge the hua’numti, and perish. 

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Until.

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Something strange and new happened on a planet called the Marble. Three species arose to power at the same time.

 

The tixans: intellectual, fierce, with weapons and technologies unseen before or since. The operans: cunning, eloquent, with a strange power of command over other creatures. And the kudrans: mighty, proud, able to bear any burden with tenacity. The Law of Strength dictated that these three must go to war in order to determine who would eventually face the hua’numti.

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Their wars were bitter and endless, with each of the three evenly matched to their peers. When one race might seemingly gain an advantage, the other two would join hands to topple them. This would perhaps have continued until the very end of time, with none of the three to advance to face the hua’numti, but one of the operan generals crafted a plan. His name was Boliovor.

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Do not hiss! It is unbecoming. I know you have heard his name - hear now his truth.

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Boliovor approached the tixans and the kudrans under a flag of peace. He asked whether it should not be possible for the three species to work together to defeat the hua’numti. His people had created a treatise: each race would have their own homeland, yet each race could also build cities in which to cooperate. Boliovor hoped that all could work together towards the honorable battle to come with the hua’numti. 

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The tixans, ever distrustful, refused the offer. However, they did strike a bargain of truce with the operans. They retreated to their lands, not to be seen again for many years. 

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The kudran elders could see the sense in Boliovor’s offer, but feared that it might break the Law of Strength. They spent ten days of sun and ten days of moon praying to the Two, asking for guidance in this matter. And on the tenth Moonday, the great seer Eirzhenoenti had a vision.

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In this vision, Eirzhenoenti beheld two anthrid creatures in silhouette, standing beneath the pale and shining Moon. They drew weapons as if to battle, and yet after a moment’s tension they sheathed their blades. They approached one another with hands extended in friendship. At the touching of palms, a spark flowed from one to live in the other, blooming in warmth. With hands still clasped, the two raised their weapons aloft and charged together into battle. And there the sparks within them blossomed outward into an inferno so bright, so hot, and so cleansing, that not a one of their enemies was left standing.

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Eirzhenoenti believed her vision bespoke a peace between operans and kudrans - and more importantly, an endorsement of Boliovor’s offer by Moon. She had no further visions in which she could divine the will of Sun, and so the kudran elders agreed that this was enough to accept the treatise. 

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Thus the operans and kudrans went to work on their shared societies. Their cities rose over the land and above the tallest trees in the forests; their forges fired Sunday and Moonday alike, crafting tools of warfare. Together they began to meet with the hua’numti by projecting their souls to Draumir whenever the moon was shining. Yet even with their combined strength, many operans and kudrans fell prey to the hua’numti’s claws.

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Knowing their Gifts, each race began to specialize in their work. The kudrans built their strength through physical labor, while the operans honed their military strategies. Eventually the tixans made their way back into the cities, carrying with them a weight of knowledge from travelling the Marble and surviving in harsh climates. They added this information to our own.

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But even with all three species working together, we were unable to defeat the hua’numti. We grew embittered, frustrated. Some of us began to consider the Law of Strength less important than continuing our city-states.

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And this was where Boliovor, long since reunited with Sun, played out his long-brewing trick. The kudran elders, despite their wisdom, had misinterpreted the vision of Eirzhenoenti. The two anthrids joining hands in warfare were not the operans and kudrans; Boliovor and his peoples were too cowardly for that. Instead, they had struck a deal with the hua’numti to deliver the kudrans alone to the battlefield in exchange for their own safety and a tiny ember of the hua’numti’s Gift of Regeneration. 

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The cities Boliovor envisioned, now commonplace, distracted the kudrans from their true task of honorable combat with the hua’numti. Our sisters and brothers shed their traditions, culture, and honor like a serpent shedding its skin; and like the obedient house serpent, they curled around the shoulders of the operans to cool their skin and curry their favor. At some moment - not a single instance, but a drawn-out generation - we began to see ourselves less as their equals and more as their slaves. 

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Hundreds of years have passed, and much has decayed. True to Boliovor’s scheme, operans no longer send their people to battle the hua’numti in Draumir; instead they hide and cower from them. We kudrans stand guard for them that they may not sully themselves with the honorable fight. Such is the cunning of Boliovor’s damned Treatise.

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We, too, have forged a pact with the Adversaries. This is the ritual of razhakudar: new adults engage the hua’numti in single combat to the death. In a way, we have created the truest vision of the Law of Strength. 

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But that does not matter, for we have been blown off-course by the foul winds of Boliovor’s plan. The tixans, who never dream and have not met the hua’numti, see no purpose in fighting them. 

They cannot look beyond their own petty aspirations - as if money is the only currency that matters. The operans, too, have given up this combat. They have tasted power over us kudrans, and they make our sisters and brothers in their “shared cities” perform menial labor, telling them all the while that it will make them stronger. As if they were foolish enough to believe that. 

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…perhaps they are.

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We call this period the “Era of Advancement,” and it has indeed brought us some small amount of success against the hua’numti. We have won many individual combats against them, and they now offer us their magics as a gesture of respect. But our newfound honor and strength come at the cost of our pride, which has been crushed beneath the boots of the operans. They have forgotten the very purpose for our existence; they corrupt our sisters and brothers; they erase the very truths which I now tell you. 

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I feared not my combat against my hua’numti, and I fear not my own demise, but I fear for our people. I fear for their oblivion, and I fear for their eradication from this Marble in which they were first given light.