There once were two great beasts that roamed these lands. The God Beasts, they were known as, for their power and might. One was a beautiful Bird, whose feathers were all the colours of the rainbow. She soared through the sky, free as could be.

The other was a Deer. His steady stride was unimpeded by mountains or forests. They roamed where they willed, and occasionally met. When they did, they would discuss what they saw on their journeys.

The Bird was fiery and passionate, composing songs as she blazed a trail across the sky, and fighting when any offered her insult. The Deer was patient and kind, carving mountains into beautiful sculptures. Each gave perspective to the wonders that they had seen.

They started meeting more and more frequently, until they just never left each other, wandering together across the land.

Until one day, they came upon a people. They lived in a forest, and were kindly folk. When they beheld the beasts, they bowed in respect, and offered their hospitality.

Intrigued by these little ones, the beasts accepted, and they were glad they did. So taken with the food and drink provided to them, the God-Beasts gifted the mortals their boons.

The Deer claimed the men—and the Bird claimed the women. The men inherited the Deer’s vitality, growing horns and his eye for working wood and stone; while the women grew beautiful wings with which to soar through the air, and some of her fiery temper.

And thus, the men lived with the Deer, and the women followed the Bird. They waded across the lands, meeting to trade stories about life in the sky, and life on the earth.

Things were good for a time. Until the demons came. They poured over the land, consuming everything.

There was but one safe haven; and thus, did the Bird pluck up the Deer in her talons, and carry him to her nest, while the women gathered the men—together, they settled on Soaring Heaven’s Isle.

The Deer crafted great wards—a wall of mist, and hid the isle from the monsters, creating a safe haven.

But their wanderings came to an end.

The Disciples of the Deer settled in the forests and the mountains, living a life of simplicity. The Deer taught them to be kind and respect all things; from the beasts they ate to the water they drank. Under his direction they crafted great fortresses, and defensive formations.

The Disciples of the Bird claimed the meadows and hot springs. They too lived simple lives, living off the land, and honing their bodies. In the blue sky, under the direction of the Bird they trained in the arts of war, honing their blades, and learning songs with which to woo their male counterparts.

And thus their life continued, with them only meeting to have children, and trade stories, as they had for so long.

The Deer and Bird too consummate their relationship, their Qi mingling to create all manner of little beasts—all with their mother’s beautiful wings and their father’s kind heart.

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But the men had a dream. They dreamed of being able to fight alongside their sisters. To fly as they did, and never be helpless again. They did not begrudge them their flight—and so they went to their sisters, and shared with them their plan.

The women, so touched by their brothers desires and pleas, agreed.

The men gave their horns unto the earth, and from them sprouted great trees. With their sisters, they sung them into shape—and then the sisters gifted the men their feathers, infusing them into the earth and the masts.

And thus, the First Skyship was born.

The Deer and the Bird were shocked at what the people had made… and yet were pleased. For now the Deer too could fly in the sky with his beloved Bird, and they could truly journey together.

For a time, they were happy. But the Demons boiled and seethed outside, and despite the Deer’s sublime skill… even his wards began to fail.

Demons slipped through, killing with abandon, poisoning, and consuming.

The mood was grim. The Demons were many. And so, for their people, the Deer and The Bird made the ultimate sacrifice.

They gave their bodies and souls to craft three weapons that would surely lay the demons low.

Something grand. Something unprecedented.

The God-Ships.

The men, the stalwart defenders. The women, the blazing sword. The children of the God Beasts, the fairies, infused the weapons and armor of all who could fight.

The barriers fell. The demons poured in.

And slaughter followed them.

The God Ships obliterated them in their millions. And yet, the demons were a devious, wily foe.

Their infiltrators struck—and even the God-Ships could fall.

Two were destroyed. The last one was boarded.

The Disciples of the Bird, soaring through the heavens, were spared. The Disciples of the Deer perished nearly to a man.

The last ship was beached on purpose, a bastion where the last of the children remained.

The screams of anger and anguish of a people who had lost all their fathers, their brothers, and their sons tore open the sky. So savagely did they fight to avenge them that the fabric of the world started to crack—and then, at the firing of the Heaven Breaker, the Soaring Heaven Isle itself shattered.

And thus, did the Disciples of the Bird have their victory—a victory that tasted like ashes.

The Bird and The Deer were dead. The only remaining boys were too young to have ever been taught the secrets of the ships.

The desecrated meadows and burned forests were silent, the fairies having fought to the last.

Yet from the ashes, arose a phoenix. A Crimson Phoenix, and his Cloudy Sword.

He offered the Disciples of the Bird a chance. Join him. For vengeance.

It was an offer they would never refuse.

The Skyships rose once more, battered and beaten. But never broken.

And thus, did the Demons learn fear.

They warred for centuries. They warred until the demons fell, and were banished from this world.

And then, they returned to their Isle. The Disciples of the Bird standing alone.

They lived as the Bird had bid them—keeping to their own sex. Even torn in half, and without their counterparts, they were mighty.

But the ships were never again as powerful.

They tried to recreate what had been lost. But too much was gone. The men they chose, sheltering them in the last God Ship never did learn how to harmonize their souls with the Disciples of the Bird, and never did find the seeds that suited them, even as they nearly scoured the forest clean.

They tried and they tried.. Until the practice petered out, lost forever.

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Then one day, the dregs of an Old Deer’s soul noticed another that was broken and repaired with gold.

He traveled with a spirit of wind and fire—and two Disciples of the Bird.

His soul yearned for freedom; to soar high and free.

The others burned with an earnest desire to help him achieve his dreams.

He traveled the forest and gave thanks for each seed; Even his enemy’s spirit was freed.

The ancient, spent Deer observed it… and found it good.

A Disciple he would be, of Stone and Wood.

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