“When the gem struck, the sorcerer’s spirit seized its chance at revenge, bringing about the Unraveling and destroying all of Galhadyra.”— Captain Geofric Robare, The Wardens of Lor Book 2
Before the Unraveling, the power of the Mother flourished in every part of Lor. The world was full of magic, peace, and wonder. Vibrant life pulsed through the Weaving, nurturing the land and its people. All was in harmony with the Divine Will of the Mother.
Then, 3,000 years ago, the Sky Stone crashed to the world, carrying inside it magic from across the stars—Celestial Power—that which is not of the Mother. But when the Sky Stone struck the land, it encountered another kind of sorcery, a malevolent power.
From that terrible union, chaotic magic spewed forth. Ripples of wild sorcery slithered through the Weaving, melding with the Mother’s power, changing it, corrupting it. All across the world, new magic emerged. Untamed sorcery, unheard of in any land. Every part of the Weaving was touched and altered in some way.
Animals became… more. Races like the minotaur, the faun, and the vanara were born. Magical beasts like Glamor-Cats and the Dread Hounds of the Crae. Some creatures, like the dragonkind, were almost extinguished.
The continent of Galhadyra sank beneath the ocean.
Other new lands burst from the seas. Realms that once thrived were swallowed by earth. Forests became scorched wastelands. Deserts blossomed with chaotic life. In some places, the Weaving was poisoned entirely, creating alien lands of wild magic and chaos. In others, like the Heart of the Farawood, the Mother’s power was untouched. In some places, the very threads of life were severed. Now they are barren lands, devoid of all life and magic.
As the Unraveling ran its course, its sorcery soaked into the world like a great rain, absorbed by living beings and through the Weaving, becoming part of Lor itself. Creating weird and magical places. The chaos that followed covered the world in darkness for a thousand years.
Eventually, as the centuries passed, the Mother’s power began to grow once more, winding its threads through the Weaving, healing that which was corrupted, and returning the world to harmony.
Some lands have been healed entirely—pockets where the Weaving flourishes with the abundant power of the Mother. Other pockets, like Darkfae City, are still drowned in wild sorcery, festering like a stagnant pond. Most lands are somewhere in between, their journey of healing still incomplete.
Through the power of the Mother and Her Weaving, all life itself is in a constant state of healing. But Lor will never return to what it once was. Although they grow paler, the stains of the Unraveling will tint the threads of the Weaving forever.
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