The Divines
The Orders of Draconem
Aetheurgy Forms
The Runes of Aetheurgy
The Auras of Soul Form
Factions of the Mistlands
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Map of The Mistlands
Imprîmîs
Aether [ee-ther] – magical essence of all existence, borne of the Great Crystals, Eminence & Noctis; bequeaths the Four Tenets of Aether: Ignis, Aquis, Terris, and Aere.
Aethecite [ee-th-e-sahyt] – condensed & pressurized aether into an ore-like manner; its essence has been derived into a potent & valuable fuel, technology, and weaponry.
Aetheurgy [ee-th-er-jee] – the art of channeling aether into one of five Forms of the Pentax Gods & the God of the Void; also known as burning.
Soul Form – the purest form, borne only in those with Godsblood, the world’s essence via Eminence theirs to command. Marked by pristine, white pupils & irises.
Vision Form – the voice of the Pentax Gods, Bliss & Brio. Marked by one all-white eye & one all-black eye.
Burn Form – borne in the essences of the Four Enhancements of Aether. Burned via injection or ingestion of distilled aethecite, called parch. Marked by a colored pupil; colors of garnet, sapphire, peridot, or emerald.
Shard Form – borne in the essences of the Four Tenets of Aether. Burned via inked runes in the flesh sparked by inhalation of the poisonous mist. Marked by a colored pupil; colors of garnet, sapphire, peridot, or emerald.
Void Form – from the darkness of the void beyond the veil of Life via Noctis, scarred runes upon breast and spine. Marked by all black pupils, irises & sclera.
Aether,
The essence of Life & Death.
Pure and unfiltered Eminence, a magical boon.
Broken and cracked Noctis, a poisoned chalice.
Breath of fate & fire,
Of the Gods.
Their guardians, the draconem.
The Desert City of Drenth
AN ORPHAN GIRL with no trueborn name stared past the airship’s bowsprit as the Sea of Mist parted, revealing the mega-city of Drenth.
Like a crown of swords, but instead of blades, buildings rose upward from the dunes towards the skies. Home to the aethecite mines under the great desert, Drenth’s outer walls were already being pummeled by an early dawnbreak sandstorm, a raging vortex imbued by the aetheric mist of the surrounding Sea.
“Look there!” yelled one of the handful of passengers aboard the aethecite-powered airship. “A vvyrm!”
The orphan followed the cry portside, a crowd gathering and pointing toward the sands surrounding Drenth. To her unnatural, all-white eyes, every person on deck bore an aura of bright yellow. Joy. Energy. Curiosity. The augurs of the Scattered Shards of the Pentax had said her gift was rare. So rare, few cases of white irises existed since the Fall of Eminence five hundred years prior.
To the girl, it was her curse.
One of the dunes undulated, like a wave rolling under the Sea of Mist. It was massive, the terrisvvyrm—or vvyrm for short. Its trail created a gully through the sand, new dunes forming in its wake, leaving mounds in the aetheric haze. A section of the vvyrm’s back pierced the dune, calcified protrusions the size of an adult humir lined the entirety of its flank, allowing the draconem to tunnel. Up the pith went, then back into the sands, the Sea of Mist reforming into a cloak of unbroken grey. The poisonous haze murky in the small hours after dawnbreak.
“It’s head, O Zenith, look at that!” a young woman exclaimed, her voice tinged with curious excitement, her aura blazing with peridot thrill.
Pure might exploded from the sand dune anew, shooting upward with the tenacity of Mother Marrow’s Hammer, causing the gathered crowd—and the orphan—to instinctively rear back, even though they were still far away from the vvyrm.
Grit sprayed outward as if the Holy Forgemistress Herself hammered to the anvil that was the dunes, the mist clinging to the vvyrm’s hundred-foot, cylindrical body like a parasite. The gaping snout roared, teeth the length of the orphan girl herself. No eyes did the monstrous beast have, for underground, it needed none. The vvyrm landed upon the sand, churning the mist that danced above it, and disappeared deeper into the earth. The sand and mist settled, leaving only the untouched hills, the Sea of Mist calming.
The orphan girl gripped the railing of the bowsprit, feeling her heart quicken as Drenth edged ever closer. Her past rising from the dunes like the vvyrm. A pool of mist clung to her ankles, swirling about her in the eager rhythm of her heartbeat.
The other aspect of her gift. Her curse.
Sixteen years, she thought.
