Streams of colour blanketed the First World as, on the 7th of Estar, the
year 461, Ashtariel, of a Thousand Hues, made Her Presence known amidst
cries for Her Sibling Mysrai, the Thousandfold. Endless months had
passed with cryptic messages passed to those who devoutly visited Her
Fulcrux, most notably Captain Rolan Vessandril, Breandryn, Xypher
Stormcrow and Eritheyl Ryseni of Gaudiguch, and the Basin soon grew
accustomed to seeing the strange, alien creatures known as starry
thelemor slinking hungrily down every road, in every city and commune.
So it was perhaps of no surprise to the many adventurers witnessing
these odd happenings, when the distressed Goddess showed Herself in
panic, swiftly answered by Mysrai and -- much to the shock of several
aware of the tensions held between the Two -- Her estranged Brother,
Zvoltz, the Architect.

As Ashtariel flew towards Mysrai, a sudden, looming blackness rose from
the Skarch, a place so oft the origin of innumerable wonders and horrors
since the return of the Scarlet Goddess shook the First World. Where the
veil between the Basin and a plane of mystery was thinnest, there
appeared a rift once more, one that had been unstable since the Lady
Ashtariel's rescue -- further weakened by the nights when steady
incursions of thelemor never seemed to cease. Ebon stars blossomed
amidst the many coils of a massive creature peering out of that rift
with baleful, crimson eyes, its disfigured form writhing sinuously
against a barrier while its target -- the beloved Goddess who had
captured the hearts of many -- seemed inevitably drawn toward it despite
Lord-and-Lady Mysrai's frantic efforts to draw Their Sister to safety.

It was then that Lord Zvoltz' face paled in horror, and He too rushed
forward in an attempt to rescue Ashtariel, the Sister He had refused to
acknowledge since Her violent emergence. Blinding flashes of lightning
tore through the sky as a storm wrought of His turmoil swept the Basin,
and for once, the Thousandfold and the Architect had a united goal, to
reach Their quickly fading Sibling. Too late, They cried out in unison
as She vanished, Her colourful figure swallowed by the blackness of an
alien world where the Dreadform raged.

Struck with grief, Lord-and-Lady Mysrai turned upon Their Brother,
shouting at Him as They sealed the rift that would allow the Dreadform's
release were it not tended. "GO", They commanded, "We never want to see
You again!" The Architect gazed upon the place where His Sister had been
with an expression of devastation, and replied, "How our roles have
reversed, Sibling. First you as Her murderer and I as Her jailor. Now
the reverse." With that, He turned away, "Only You will bear this burden
now, and all the First World knows, as the Council of the Firsts once
did..."

A jagged tear opened in reality, the darkness of the Void looming
hungrily beyond as the Architect departed the First World, a single tear
rolling down His cheek as He cast a glance backward, the sorrow shed
evaporating quickly in a crackle of lightning as it sizzled toward the
Peak below. A crowd had gathered in the Skarch where Lady Ashtariel
vanished, the mirror that had been Her deliverance reacting violently to
those who approached it -- or touched it. Only for Kalas Ixion did this
portal allow entry, one of the few who perhaps was linked to the strange
world beyond through his time in the Night Market -- a place so close
and yet so far.

Bravely treading forth, Ixion entered, finding himself in the
Borderlands, a place between planes where the Dynodeon and Merchants of
Thelem warred on behalf of Lord-and-Lady Mysrai and Lord Zvoltz. It is
there he learned the secrets of Iklara, and Moraevi, meeting with
strange beings amidst purple dunes beneath a sky where the Dreadform
raged in captivity. What did he discover? Moreover, what happened to
Lady Ashtariel, and how is She linked to the Dreadform of Iklara? Only
those courageous enough to seek the Night Market, then the mirror, will
ever know.



Penned by My hand on the 22nd of Urlachmar, in the year 461 CE.