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The Forging of Synara

Legends of the lands
By: Damien

In the beginning there was stone, stone as smooth and as cold to the touch as ice. It flowed from the ground and covered a great distance, shining brightly in the sun. The Lord of the North had created it in his image, and it marked the border of cold, frigid lands. This great white rock stretched as far as the eye could see, and it was beautiful.
     
      A man, taller and lighter of skin than his cousins the magi, saw this and knew that from this place he would create his home. From the cool north he came, seeking a land of his own to lead a race. A great leader, he was the strongest of his kind, and his mind was full of dreams. He had traveled a great way to reach this place, and knew this to be a good homeland. Flat land reached seemingly forever in all directions, enabling him to see all that occurred. This sorcerer was full of extraordinary powers, his magic more suited to delicate, subtle tasks than that of the rough scholars of the south. With these powers he sculpted the very earth, pulling stone into air, molding it into the likeness of the cold mountain tops he could see. Towers he created, ivory walls growing from the earth. He strived for perfection for many days, and at last he was well pleased with his creation.
     
      An ethereal city stood where once there was only rock, immense and exquisite. When the sun traveled high above it, the snowy walls were illuminated so brightly that one had to look away. The sorcerer looked upon all this and was happy for a time, and his people came, and lived contentedly for a while. But with time they knew it to be too cold, a place not made for humans. His people lived surrounded by the cold they had sought to evade, and they were displeased with their city, beautiful as it was. And the sorcerer saw this and mourned, withdrawing to the tallest tower and speaking to no one.
     
      The Lord of the North saw this, and was saddened that his people could not live in his lands. He saw too the magnificence of the city, and how the sorcerer he loved was deep in mourning. The Lord of the North swallowed his pride and went to The Lady of the West, where the sorcerer's people now lived. Humbling himself, The Lord asked The Lady for a great favor, and was granted it. With joy in his icy heart, The Lord returned to his home to await the morn.
     
      As day broke, the sorcerer went to the window of his tower, watching as light slowly crept over his frozen city. His eyes widened and he watched earth steal over the place, covering pale walls with vines and creating gardens where before there was only cold stone. He watched and was pleased, seeing his people rejoice, and knew that this place, now full of the beauty of flowers, would stand for generations as a great city for his people.