"The boundless Celestial Sea has only had a fraction of her waters mapped by the folk of Hiraeth. Lustrous bodies and unknowable satellites act as beacons of power or the markers for realms unwalked. In one of these realms, the Sea is said to freeze into a great sheet of ice, where a cascade of stars reflect into each other and comets freeze in place to create ice floes among drifting stardust. In this place where both dark and light are emphasized beyond measure, the enigmatic Elimel live.
Elimel drifts slowly across the ice of their home, said to be barely aware of or even care where they end up. The glint of their shells can be seen in the night sky by those most practiced of the celestial arts. When two Elimel coast into each other, they begin to sing in a high pitch ringing and will circle each other for a brief time. These rare meetings can be seen by even a layman if they know where to look. A prayer made upon the shine of their shells meeting between the stars is said to bless those looking for companionship, be it a friend or a lover."
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“Stories shared between ancient northern tribes speak of splinters of moonlight and fledgling stars falling from the celestial sea when an Est-Tu visits. What was seen as a harrowing night for many who had just settled into northern life at the time was regarded as an auspicious event for those who had long-lasting ties to the snow-laden lands. Not only were these solid cosmic lights sought after for ritual and artisanal crafts, but the beasts within the astral rain had gifts to bear as well.
Est-Tu are a part of a greater entity, said to have fallen away after suffering a wound or plucked off intentionally if they've grown to a ripe size. Though this sounds gruesome, the Est-Tu is a peaceful creature whose promenades upon Hiraeth bring little upset to the balance. Being close to one can feel intimidating, as they sing a low tune which feels as if it shakes through sinew and bone, but many come to meditate to these rhythms. Those who do may be given a premonition into future happenings, though this process is only for the strongest of willed, as they are said to be unable to do anything about what they've seen.
Those who have meditated multiple times with an Est-Tu are said to see the world with changed eyes, able to react to actions a split moment before they happen, or even see the fates of others around them. This state of perpetual soothsaying, able to see time's threads constantly, isn't a destiny many can bear with ease.”
“There was a time when the rolling waves of Tethys held aloft fleets of vessels to traverse her waters. Guided by the wind, ships navigated from harbour to harbour and found their way to islands and archipelagos to explore. A novel idea to some from other places, but in Hiraeth, seafaring has become a somewhat obscure art, kept alive through coastal villages, islanders, and what little remains of pirate tribes. Hiraeth’s interior is vast with enough mysteries held inward, but some believe the real secrets of the world are out across the ocean, past the storm-drenched horizon and the snapping jaws of sea monsters.
A whimsical stranger from an even larger and more unfathomable body of water, the Figellithen indulges the curiosity of those who wish to see beyond the horizon but have no ship to cross it. On nights of a New Moon, one must go to the coast and make a circle of stones brought in by the waves. Within the shimmering circle one must hold out a broken compass and the Figellithen will hasten to the ritual site. They will then bless the wayward trinket, and from it one will be whisked away to an island. Which island, no one knows--be it a treasure trove or desolate is not for anyone to choose. The broken compass becomes one’s ship every New Moon if they wish to see the world beyond simply for the sake of it.
Why the Figellithen does this is uncertain, as they speak no words and give no incentive. It could be purely that they resonate to the heart of a wanderer such as themselves.”
“Hiraeth is a land that feeds upon wanderlust, with old ruins and expansive wilds that beckon the curious and the brave. After the dark ages brought about by the Giant’s March, the world is in dire need of inquisitive minds, willing to scour secret and untamed places for answers. This want for exploration has proven to be contagious as beings from other realms rendezvous at Hiraeth to take part in the endless searching, though each with their own goals. Amongst the strangest and most volatile of these tourists is the Ozusei— figures of glassy light, given an almost comprehensible frame from the odd robes they wear. Ozusei descend from the celestial sea, diving quickly through the sky as a shooting star. Their very being is made from powerful magic, and those sensitive to arcane fluctuations will notice the changes their presence causes almost immediately.
Ozusei are masters of science and scholarly thought, being able to tell you nearly anything about anything, at least for a moment. Ozusei see the world through their bulb-like head. When they see something, they know everything about it, but once it leaves their periphery, it leaps out of their memory. Many have been disappointed or surprised by conversing with an Ozusei only for them to reunite later and the Ozusei acting as if they had just met. While this can make the Ozusei very excitable creatures, it can be inconvenient for those trying to learn from them. A way to counter this loss is if an Ozusei consumes a piece of the object or being, then they will remember them and be able to recite everything about them just from a little fragment. A splinter of bark from a tree or a drop of blood from a person is all an Ozusei needs to keep every iota of information about them. Whole schools have been made by students each offering a pittance of blood to an Ozusei who is more than willing to teach those they are close to incredible magical abilities. This can make one feel very vulnerable though, as the Ozusei will know ever secret of their disciples.
Ozusei know a vast amount about magic as it is what makes up their being, but the permanent knowledge of an individual Ozusei is dependant on how much they have consumed. To absorb something into themselves, they set it aflame with shining fire and engulf it completely. The unraveled mind of an Ozusei could be the key to restoring many of Hiraeth’s lost secrets, but it would require sacrificing or damaging historical artefacts as kindling for their mind. Most Ozusei are thoughtful and jovial by nature, but an Ozusei lacking empathy is an incredibly dangerous thing. A living calamity, an Ozusei gluttonous for knowledge and nothing else could burn down entire forests or kingdoms, turning them into a memory for only them to recite. Some believe this could well have happened in Hiraeth’s tumultuous past, as spirits are naturally wary or outright aggressive towards these curious travellers. “
“Hiraeth is tended to by spirits and trotted upon by folk and fauna, going about their lives however they choose. Not every day is easy, and not every quest is grand, but thankfully the nomads of modern times have the luxury to wonder what the next day will bring. The world we ramble about to our whims is still in the faint glow of a long-forgotten fire; though behind us, the ashes of long ago still haunt us in the form of ruined buildings, old weaponry planted in the earth, and skeletons of massive beasts consumed by moss and flowers. Our world is a graveyard of past kingdoms and forgotten memories, all of them precious and auspicious, but still fading in spite of this. Looking to bury and swallow each of us was Visceroht, the Ravenous Beast, self proclaimed undertaker of many worlds before she reached ours.
Many eras ago, the spirits of Hiraeth conquered land, sea, and sky, and set about tilling the world for life to begin. The spirits of the Moon and the spirits of nature became lovingly entwined, and set a course for where a soul would arise and where it would rest, but this was already in the midst of ruination as Visceroht descended from the celestial sea. She and her mate were the last of their kind: hunters who once flourished across the cosmoscape, devouring life to extinction and revelling in their conquest over titanic beasts and proud kingdoms. She chose to settle here and undo the spiritual awakening that had barely begun. She first looked to consume the Moon, one touch from her reckless hand causing it to splinter with scars and craters. Every spirit had to come together to chase her off, but it wasn’t enough to fell her. Powerful beings in the Fae Realm, Hiraeth’s sister realm, saw her presence as a disgrace and looked to rout her forever. With the help of her mate, tired and guilt-ridden from their endless hunting, they sacrificed themselves to seal her away in the far reaches of the sea. What remained of their souls were scattered like seeds over a field, and eventually blossomed into the folk Hiraeth knows today. While Visceroht’s mate reincarnated into the Hill Folk, her sanguine essence seeped out from her prison, creating a ichor that would spawn the first giants, who eventually took all manner of forms within their earthen cradle. In her forced slumber, she dreamed of the hunting grounds she once roamed, and of the stars she could once reach out split in-twain . From this the Land of Giants was born, allowing colossal creatures to partake in endless battle— they were children mimicking their mother, following her unsaid guidance.
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Visceroht slept for eras upon eras, forgotten by many, the souls of those who sealed her away were now forming kingdoms and laws to live life by. Her ichor spread into veins across the world, turning animals into frenzied monsters. Giants were learning to slip from the home she made them, and would occasionally cause havoc but would be defeated by brave knights and bands of warriors looking to make a name for themselves. Lands formed treaties, guilds tinkered to bring society forward; farmers fed the common folk while churches gave them solace. The vanities of life that many saw as mandatory would soon slip away when Visceroht was awakened from her dreaming sea. She rose from the western waters, forcing sludge and steams to rise from the earth as her body rippled with celestial fire once more, unquenchable by any waters. Her eyes were forced open in unyielding hatred as she looked over wretched creation. She let loose a harrowing roar that dispersed the clouds and forced the winds to scatter, commanding the giants to begin their march, signalling the beginning of a great dark age that would seep the land in war and fear.
Once a fierce hunter, Visceroht’s sleep had taken its toll— her bones and sinew had tightened into stone, and she had to heave herself across the land. Her mind in odd fragments, she wandered aimlessly during the day, consumed by hunger, and at night she would erupt into hate. The pale light of the Moon hanging in the sky drew her ire, and she would crawl forward, towards the middle of the land where she could reach it. In her witless rampage, kingdoms were sent into disarray and the folk of Hiraeth fought with her children, spreading her rage and setting fire to the horizon wherever they went. As swathes of land fuelled her towering stomach, her body rose like a monstrous totem over the world— a monolith dedicated to the end times for all to witness. Starlit lightning arced across her clanging scales, scorching her body with immense heat and fuming smog, burning the land beneath her. As she dragged herself under the Moon, ignorant to the all she had done or what she was doing, a crusade had risen from the wreckage to fight her, lead by Hiraeth’s bravest knight. Dubbed “Rael-Tagei” by her people, she fought for her children and her power of the celestial arts was unmatched. She was the only one who could part Visceroht’s heat, allowing the forces of the world to strike back. Eventually the Ravenous Beast laid her eyes upon the knight, regarding her with the same hate she had for the Moon above. She breathed out a terrible, dire screech, lacing the wind with cosmic fire, but Rael-Tagei used all her might to brace the flame and muster it back towards its owner. The two faded into the stars, and the world was finally allowed to mourn. The rage of the giants was quelled as they returned to their homeland or lived as feral beasts in the wilds. It took many generations, but Hiraeth managed to heal, and spirits were left to reflect on the path the world had taken. An ending had undeniably come for this Hiraeth, and a new one unhurriedly grew, finding peace in the solemn aftermath. The folk of Hiraeth thrive and the Moon continues to guide their souls no matter how hard the Ravenous Beast wished otherwise. The people of the world find solace in her defeat every time they advance forward or learn a forgotten part of their buried lineage. Our fates should be our own in this cherished present, and let mindless brutes, controlled by greed and gluttony, be left behind as nothing but a memory.”
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"Since her waking days, Hiraeth has acted as a land of congregation, where beings from far flung and obscure realms may meet in merriment or malice. Countless beings find room to flourish in Hiraeth as long as they adhere to the rules of spirits, who must maintain the essence of order in a world overrun with peering eyes and lurking whispers. Many powerful entities have their own machinations and look to use Hiraeth as their stage, but not all of these plots are dubious or frightful. In ancient times, when the Hillfolk first arose to meet the world, they longingly looked to the stars, yearning to reach them but unsure of how. Together they felt an intrinsic longing, and their quiet cries were answered by a queen draped in blue dawned with a glistening crown. She heard their unspoken wails and brought them a fragment of a star, to remind them of their homeland across the celestial sea. From this small shard they could hear the chorus of heavenly bodies, and echoing them back brought them closer to their birthright: hunters who could weave starlight.
These one-armed deliverers are said to descend from the heavens, brimming with a guiding light to give to those in the most dire of need. They were revered throughout Hillfolk mythology along with many other celestial beings who were drawn to their inherited power. What had lasted for countless generations would end up stripped away in a few decades when the Mad Queen rose from the north, her gaze far and her grasp deadly. She strived to ascend farther than any monarch before her, and forced the powerful to bend the knee and join her cause. When her toiling caught the eye of the celestial maidens, the Mad Queen would anchor them to the earth and drain out their strength. In great sealed chambers they were locked away, their crowns stripped, their fine blue silk turned into ragged feathers, their open hand a gnarled claw, and their mantle of wings into stiff, clacking roots. Along with them, many other noble beings were seeped of their magic in hopes of forcing a saviour onto Hiraeth, but in the end, the Mad Queen failed to save anyone. While her sisterhood was in chains, one of these maidens escaped this fate— she found a mother grieving for her children and together they reenacted the first ceremony of the Hillfolk. The forlorn mother became “Real-Tagei”— she who would be Hiraeth’s true saviour during the all-consuming dark ages. While the world regrows, the northern kingdoms are still overgrown in chaotic and corrupted magic. It is said the dusky maidens have escaped their cages, but now fly about aimlessly, looking for their crowns to return their splendour."
"Hiraeth is built on a foundation of magic, its roots having many paths to follow— but no road is quite like the one of the celestial arts. To fully embrace the power the celestial sea offers, one must cut themselves from all other magics, and let the hymns echoing across the stars ring inside your mind. Celestial magic is known for its healing capabilities and immense purity, branding and immolating the souls of the wicked and the sinful. Just as the light of the Sun can soothe, it can also lash and devour, engulfing all in a sanctified blaze. Wielding this power with incredible prowess are the Fex-Uvilim, dark and heavenly knights from the Cosmoscape. Those who are the pinnacle of of understanding the astral are said to summon down beautiful and bewildering beasts from planes unfathomably far away, and the Fex-Uvilim are possible familiars to those who have pledged themselves to an anchored Sun. Fex-Uvilim wield both aspects of the Sun’s flames: their innate healing powers allowing them to withstand incredible punishment and their strikes leaving nothing but cinders and ashes in their wake as their limbs erupt into weapons of sunlight.
Fex-Uvilim are born from the shadowy depths of a secluded lagoon, far away from common eyes. They initially hide away from the Sun, but eventually become lovingly entwined with his hymn during the apex of an eclipse. They rise from the waters to witness the auspicious event, and become fully formed as the Moon passes by and closes out the cosmic dance. From then on, the Fex-Uvilim hone their skills and meditate in the unseen fenlands before setting out to find purpose amongst the other planes of the Cosmoscape. They are often called upon to be the guardians of shrines and holy places for obscure kingdoms, but they can also be summoned to Hiraeth by those highly versed in the celestial arts. They act as temporary soldiers in times of dire need, but some have formed stronger bonds with their summoners, becoming familiars to those they see as worthy of their skill. Fex-Uvilim take time to rest and meditate during an eclipse, and if interrupted by a summoning, they will become enraged and mindless for a time, using their honed skills to spread havoc rather than to serve— a fact that has been utilized by nefarious folk in the past. Many Fex-Uvilim were called upon to help fight against the Giant’s March from generations ago, leading to Hiraeth’s unfortunate reputation amongst them as a land of endless battle. Some Fex-Uvilim see being summoned to Hiraeth as an auger of bad tidings, while others are delighted to see such a storied land."
"Hiraeth’s winter can be harsh but also incredibly festive— the season strengthens ties between comrades and strangers alike as everyone works tirelessly to ensure they see the next morning. Caravans are known for keeping closer together in this time of year, sharing food, goods, warmth, and stories, while villages do their best to accommodate wanderers looking for sanctuary from the cold. Even sprites and spirits, known for their aloof behaviour, sometimes roost among trees or gently stride between them, emitting a soft glow along well-worn roads to give some small ease to those travelling alone during the frigid night. When the clouds haven’t bunched together to create a windy spectrum of snowfall, the sky seems to hold onto dawn and dusk longer, giving the sunlit hours an odd etherealness. An even stranger phenomenon is when suddenly everything shifts to a dream-like purple, a glistening haze coating the world as if one is looking through the lens of a tear drop. This transient shimmer is the subtle signal an Est-Tonis is talking a stroll through the nearby wilds.
Est-Tonis are icy behemoths from the Celestial Sea, originating from a frozen plane far from what common folk would consider natural creation. Their bodies are made of snow and coursing with starlight, making them much more detectable by those who are attuned to celestial arts. Mirrors into the cosmos can be seen across their body as well as in a great orb that they carry instead of a proper head. The world around them ever so slightly shifts as they walk be, allowing snow and stone to twinkle with heavenly light. Though attuned to an inordinate amount of celestial magic, they have not been recorded using it in combat— any strike against an Est-Tornis simply makes it vanish, leaving behind a large flourish of wind as it presumably returns home. In very rare accounts, it is said the Est-Tonis will help shape one’s future if they are presented with the blossom of a Waxen Rose: a flower that only blooms during a northern winter. If the Waxen Rose is placed within the Est-Tonis’s chest, it will lay down and allow one to peer inside the orb atop their body. One may see three possible events of their future, and from those brief visions the seer must then pray upon one of them, thinking about nothing else until they fall asleep. If they do this, then this event will be guaranteed to happen the next coming year, but others will never be allowed to unfold. This bizarre ritual was said to be undertaken and recorded by sparse individuals from Hill-Folk and Senga origin, believed to be shared with them by beings from the Cosmoscape whom few have ever met. How and when these others from the farthest reaches of reality contact us is a mystery, but it is clear that if they have powers that can so easily manipulate the threads of life before they are spun, they should be treated with care and not taken lightly."
