The Marble Heartland

In the time before time, the world was fumed in chaos. The land known as Auracae was nothing but a barren and parched desert, dunes of ash and dust. The air was filled with a smog that suffocated the seas- making it into a grey sludge. Any life that dared defy the eternal flames that spat from the sky, was silenced and withered. The world was punished in a cycle of constant destruction.

Then the Hundred came. Descending into the heart of Auracae, they battled the forces of chaos. With their miracles they overcame their adversary. They sheltered the land from the raining firestorms. They cleared the smog that was held over the world and made the seas blue once more. When they had defeated the forces of destruction, the Hundred began their work to heal the land. They started from the centre Auracae, where they built the Marble City.

The Marble City is the beating heart of Auracae. It is a city of immeasurable glory. Every street, tower and wall is cut precisely from immaculate white stone. Towers and magnificent cathedrals dominate the city. But enshadowing even the tallest of towers, is the chief building resting at its heart: the Marble Fortress. The fortress is raised tall over the city and crowned by a domed roof of gold. The fortress guards a great deal of things, the most important thing being the blood of the world- water. Aqueducts from all sides of the fortress tendril out beyond the city, seeping the gift of life into the land.

Slowly, the Hundred with their aqueducts have shaped the world and made it green. They preside within the Marble Fortress, giving careful and precise governance to the many races that have emerged due to their actions. It is with this empire that they have unified the many races. They do not govern alone, however. Each god takes a champion to become their Oratir. These worthy individuals are instilled with their god's magic and sent to perform tasks, both large and small.

To what purpose to the gods continue working towards? To preserve the empire? To spread life beyond Outer Auracae? No mortal may ever truly know what the gods have planned for us. We must simply be thankful that they are there.

For if they were ever to stop governing us, or dare I entertain the thought- leave...

Then I fear what would become of the world they've made.

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The Cracked Marble Heart

Tiln wasn’t sure what he felt in that moment. It was like a needle had scraped the inside of his chest for but a moment. As he pressed two fingers against his ribcage, an urge to look to the distance took hold of him. He dropped his shovel which he had been using to dig holes to scatter seeds into and gazed out. Ahead of him was nothing unusual. He saw paddocks of dark tilled soil and the workers that shaped the dirt. His eyes led him beyond the soil, over the wooden fences and to the distant, hilly grasslands. There was nothing different about the verdant land. Flocks of crimson-fur cows continued to graze them as usual. Tiln’s eyes traversed the hills, further upwards until resting upon the marble aqueduct. The sun glistened in its pure white radiance, causing it to cast its shadow on the hills behind it. Tiln gazed out at the aqueducts for a moment, unsure of why his eyes and instincts had brought him to it. That was not to say that he did not find the structure as astounding as he did when he first saw it all those years ago when he was but a child.

The aqueduct was often referred to as an artery from the Marble Heart. One of many arteries. Several white pillars of chiselled stone raised up a marble tunnel that carried the blood of the land- pure water. One of the pillars that Tiln turned his attention to provided an opening in the tunnel where it spouted out a waterfall that quenched a nearby river. Travelling shamans taught of how the Hundred Gods built the aqueducts to reach all of Outer Auracae, bringing life to the land. He remembered one shaman saying that the structure was older than the hills themselves- and that the land was once a gasping desert. More than just bringing water, the gods also used the aqueducts to travel at great speeds across the world. Such an occasion would be rare, but Tiln had once seen it when he was harvesting the crops one autumn. He saw how the golden radiating crystals built onto the tops of the tunnel above each pillar had a momentary burst of light, one by one all along the aqueduct.

It was this memory that brought him to a sudden realisation: the crystals were not glowing like they normally would. They were darkening by each passing second. There was something wrong, Tiln could tell. But he had not the time to worry, for a sharpened voice spoke from behind him.

"Stop idling, mute."

Tiln shuffled his eyes back to see one of the workers, spade in hand, gesturing towards his shovel. The man was dressed in heavy brown clothing, that still managed to be stained with dirt. His face was stern, lips and nose held high. ‘Mute’ was word that Tiln didn’t like, but he could find no way to express that. Not without being seen as a savage. He was, after all, the only non-human in his community. Any act of displeasure was seen as aggression. He turned and took the shovel back into his hands. He stabbed it back into the soil, then glanced one more time back the aqueduct.

He wasn’t sure what was happening. But he felt a sickness. Not of the body, but of the spirit. Something terrible had happened.