Prologue

Sol sat down at her writing desk and carefully dipped her quill into the ink. It was late in the night, so she wrote by the light of several candles. Her eyes felt tired and burned for sleep, but she sighed, rolled her shoulders, and began to set to parchment.

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These are the stories that have happened to us here in Aether. The House of Aether may one day fall, but it has grown large in the last several months, and with it our history. Be these simple tales or true histories? I suppose none will know, as they will one day be lost in the sands of time. Still, I must write…