Unheralded as it may have been, the return of the Elder God called
Lyreth, the Sidereal Prince was, to say the least, dramatic. He came
through the Transcendental Fulcrux amidst a chaotic storm of energy that
many mortals might have become almost familiar with, having seen its
like before, and once arrived, He was soon greeted by a host of such
mortals. It was not long before they learned, however, that He had no
voice with which to speak.

At the same time, rare and beautiful birds unseen within the Basin of
Life before had begun to appear, drawn Lyreth's arrival. After a time of
trying to get His point across through the pantomiming of gestures,
Lyreth summoned a magnificent harp whose strings remained silent no
matter how hard they were plucked and finally managed to communicate
that His voice was being held by the lyrebirds. Only much later, after
all had been said and done, would it be explained the birds had been
entrusted with His voice so that incase He were to perish within the
Void, it would live on. It was longer still before they managed to
gather that to collect the birds, they had to sing to them.
Specifically, a serenade.

The first bird to be collected was dropped in His fulcrux and before all
those assembled became motes of light that melted into the harp's
strings. After many days, the last bird was collected and amid an
eruption of light and sound, Lyreth played a single note on His harp and
His voice became His once more. Eternally grateful, He began pondering a
suitable reward for the mortals who had recovered His voice, and so He
once more laid His fingers to the strings of His harp.

Thus it was that the newly arrived God played and sang a small fragment
of the Song of Creation, bequeathing the skill of Dramatics to the First
world.


Penned by My hand on the 14th of Dvarsh, in the year 153 CE.