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Deep in the libraries of The Golden Court lies an ancient and moldering tome. It smells musty, of ink and age. The threads of the spine are fraying, but otherwise it is in good condition. It is perhaps three hands across and four hands tall when closed, and so thick that it’s uncomfortable to hold in one hand. It’s also heavy, as if the whole of history has manifested itself in this book so that you could feel its weight. You settle down at one of the tables, and lean over the book, for it is far too heavy to hold in your lap while you read.

You flip to a random page, about halfway through the book, and begin to read:

This next entry is a legend I recorded during my stay with the nomads of the southern moors, along the borders of Vidal, Lhazaar, and Galifar. These strange people, descended of the peoples of all three nations, hold no allegiance to any kingdom; rather, they honor only the bonds of family and blood. Needless to say, inserting myself into their culture and earning their trust took many diligent months, but I digress.

This legend is yet another example of how, despite differing cultures, humanity's perception of the dawn of time is essentially the same. It involves the same players and the same context, though the personalities or names may change from culture to culture.

Listen close now to the words I speak. Outside these moors, in the lands of more "civilized" men, they will speak lies of the gods. To their detriment, they honor some more than others. When the balance is kept, and all are given honor and respect, then the truth might be seen plainly.

For Rennais, the most dreaded of goddesses outside this land of mists, we hold no fear. How can this be, you say? It is simple; death is not a curse. It is a gift. But I will start at the beginning.

Long ago, it is said that there was only darkness and light, pain and pleasure. There was life in this beginning place, of gods and daemons, but it was unlike anything we now know. Death did not exist in the beginning place. But the spirits of this world were divided. Some tended toward the light, while others reveled in the darkness. Because they were such opposites, they could not help but make war upon each other. But after both eons and mere seconds (because time was not the same there,) a small group of the spirits grew dissatisfied with this never-ending conflict. Among them were many of the gods we hail today, as well as all manner of spirits greater than ourselves but lesser than the gods. The darkest of these spirits was doubtless Rennais.

Hers was a subtle, shadowed, ever shifting beauty, but it was tainted. She was one of the most feared generals of the Dark. Endlessly she would spend her time tormenting the spirits of the light, or even those of the dark that displeased her. Unlike her brethren, however, she drew no pleasure from the pain she caused. She was as empty and hollow as the darkness she dwelt in.

This all changed when she made a glorious capture for the Dark. Solem, one of the Light’s most brilliant warriors, had fallen into her grasp. His beauty was so great that even Rennais, with her hollow heart, could appreciate it. He would not respond to her questions of troop movements, nor to her taunts, nor to her abuse. He stood resolute, chin held high, and not once did his pride waver.

This troubled Rennais. Inevitably, she was able to pull the secrets from all of her charges. Always. She thought herself a most skilled artist, never applying more pain or pleasure than necessary, and unerringly able to combine the two into a most effective weapon. Rarely did she have to break someone to get at their secrets, but here sat Solem, gleaming and unbroken, after tortures that had shattered even the most stubborn of spirits.

Her frustration drove her to acts of torment that a mortal could never imagine. But with every failure, she found a strange sensation growing within her. She grew to respect this creature of light, this Solem. She found herself conceiving torments we mortals couldn’t even have nightmares about, just to see if his mask would break. She found herself hoping at the same time that he wouldn’t, for when she learned his secrets it would mean his leaving. He would either be passed on as a plaything for the other generals, or he would be sent back to the Light in shame.

Finally, though, she wore him down; at last, he let slip the screams Rennais knew he must have been keeping hidden. And at that moment, something in her broke. It was suddenly as if all of Solem's pain were not his, but hers. She fled her torture chambers, and did not return for a great span of time. Nothing she had done before had made her feel like this; no one had ever been able to make her feel anything. She was terrified. She could not let this beautiful creature fall to the hands of her brethren, and she could not bear the thought of shame on his face.

When at last she returned to the chamber, her composure regained, she found Solem still hanging, exhausted, in his bonds. Gently she lifted his chin and looked into his eyes, their light piercing into her soul. She did not smile when she saw the defiance there, the anger, though it did bring her hope. She had not broken him yet. Having reassured herself, she retreated and simply sat, waiting. He would speak eventually. He had to.

It may have been but a moment, or it may have been an eon, but at last Solem spoke.

“What are you waiting for?” Curiosity had overcome him; never had she waited before trying to pull his secrets from him. Sometimes she came gently, other times there was only pain, but never this empty silence.

His voice, to Rennais, was like the sweet notes of a flute echoing across the hills, and it enchanted her. She smiled, and for the first time in her existence she felt joy. It fluttered in her heart, and was as baffling as anything she’d seen since she'd encountered Solem.

“For you.” Her voice was soft and silken, little more than a whisper.

As she approached him now, he drew himself up proudly, awaiting the torment he was sure would follow. She stopped when he was just out of her reach and shook her head. “You are not meant for this.” As he looked at her with confusion, she could not help but smirk. For the first time since she’d met him she now had the upper hand.

She closed the gap between them and kissed him with all her newfound passion, relishing the way it felt to feel.

Breathless, she drew away, taking with her Solem’s bonds.

“Go, and be swift. The Dark will know shortly that you’ve escaped. Tell none what I have done.” As he began to protest, she looked him in the eye and gripped his mind with hers.

There are no lies when we speak with our minds and hearts, so this was not something she was used to.

Seeing that there was no lie in her mind, Solem started to thank her, but she interrupted, throwing his mind away from her own. “Run, you fool!”

So it came to pass that Rennais, once most feared of the Dark, was demoted. No longer did she have the leisure to pull the secrets from the souls of those she was given. Instead she was bidden to administer punishment to the disloyal and ineffective. When once she would not have cared, now she was filled with disgust at the wasteful violence of her duty.

After eons like moments, she learned from one of her prisoners that some of the spirits were defecting. Intrigued, she waited until her masters would not notice the extra time she spent on this one unfaithful spirit, and then she pulled all the information from the poor soul as skillfully as ever.

She learned that Solem, now a general for the Light, was among the defectors, and that decided her. It mattered not what they planned; she would be a part of it. She sent the spirit off to give the defectors word that they had her support, though she knew it would mean punishment.

And so, as the defectors organized themselves slowly, quietly, she fed them with the secrets she filched from her superiors. During this time, her finesse grew so much so that even her brethren had no idea that they had let secrets slip.

Slowly, she helped the defectors she found to slip unnoticed into the void beyond their realm. When at last it was time for the ringleaders to slip away, she had risen beyond her prestigious original rank. She knew the full value of secrets, when many of her brethren did not. Using the many secrets she had collected since the dawn of her existence, she pulled the plans of the Dark down around their own ankles, causing so much confusion that the Light pounced recklessly at the chance to get the upper hand on the Dark. With both sides deep in unplanned chaos, the last of the defectors were able to slip away undetected.

Once they had fled so far into nothingness that they were sure they would never be found, they began their plans to create a new world. A world where peace could exist. Rennais marveled at her kindreds' creations, as they raised mountains, carved rivers and valleys, made the moon and the sun. And for a great time they were happy, relaxing in this landscape never touched by war.

But the world was not finished yet. Aquain, Alysso, and Solem, began the creation of the most spectacular thing any of the spirits had ever seen. It took them many long days and nights before, at last, the great Fountain was completed. Here, they announced, would be the home of their greatest creation. They would create new life, life unbiased in favor of either Light or Dark.

Rennais watched with growing envy as Aquain and Solem grew closer. Not since their flight had Solem so much as glanced her way. She would often follow them in secret when they retired from their workings. Watching. Judging.

Solem, it seemed, had become infatuated with Aquain. It had been Alysso’s and her idea to create new life of their own essences. Her beauty enticed Solem, and her creativity inspired him, but as their work went on, he found that she was not the lovely creature of Light that he had imagined.

You see, Aquain’s special beauty is that she is a little bit of everything. But Solem could only see his own light reflecting off of her. Every harsh word she uttered, every violent mood swing she underwent, came as a bitter shock to him. And the more he tried to close the gap between them, the harsher she would treat him. She refused to be held in the power of any spirit; too long had she been a slave in the wars. To her, freedom was everything, and she would not give it up, not even for so great a love as the one Solem offered her.

At last, though, their creation, the Fountain, was finished. Their combined souls had become a beautiful flower. Fed by the waters of creation, dripping with sparks of life, and yet its depths shadowed with a rich and dark purple, it was perfect. Of the three creators, Solem was the greatest warrior, and he was entrusted to guard over it so that it might never be misused.

As the two left, they took with them a handful of sparks, and began populating their corners of the world with new life. Solem remained, and created the first of the dragons. Massive beasts of amazing intellect and a powerful sense of honor, they soared through the mountain skies and basked in the light of the sun; and all the while, Rennais watched.

Solem though his pride would not let him show it, was deeply hurt that Aquain would not return his feelings. Rennais saw this as an opening to reach out to him. And so, one evening, as Solem strolled aimlessly through the valley of the sun, Rennais joined him. For a long while they walked in silence, before Solem looked upon her darkness.

“Why did you come?” She knew he did not speak of the here and now, but rather, he was asking why she had defected in the first place.

She shrugged. “I was needed.” Did he not know how she felt? Did he not realize that he had given her a heart so long ago?

And so they walked, every evening; Dark beside Light, rarely speaking. As time passed and the dragons and lesser races grew, they began to forget about the fountain of life and its guardian. He had little reason to leave his valley. His duty was there, and he had finally realized that no amount of pursuit would win him the sea.

Solem did not care that the dragons and lesser races had forgotten his name, but Rennais felt differently. No one knew what would happen if the Fountain and its blossoms were to be harmed. For all they knew it could cause endless torment for those born of it, or those who made it. If nothing else these new creatures should know the names of their creators, but they took their lives for granted.

How could she make them appreciate the gift they had been given? She pondered many long nights before coming to a decision. She called it 'death', and it came from a word used by the Dark to mean 'endless'. Never before had she, or anyone else, conceived of or encountered death, for spirits cannot die. But these new creatures were not like the purely incorporeal forms of their creators.

So one night, she slipped unnoticed to the fountain. There, in the moonlight, she cut open her heart and placed a part of her essence into the waters of the fountain. Then, with great care, she wove her essence into a spell so dark that it made her quiver. She made certain that what she did would not be painful, but rather, a gentle fading. She had done enough torture in her existence; she didn’t think that more cruelty was necessary.

Surely, she thought, once they realize that they will not have their bodies forever, they will recognize it as the precious gift that it is. But before she could finish her spell, Solem awoke to find her casting this dark mystery upon Life itself. He was furious.

“What have you done?!” he shouted at her, eyes ablaze. He threw her from the fountain, breaking her hold on the spell. Without her careful guidance, the spell warped and whiplashed, binding itself tightly to the flowers in the fountain.

Rennais cried out in horror, as she watched the spell turn into something far more vicious than what she had intended. Solem growled in anger and tried to combat the dark spell with his own light. But it was all to no avail. Swifter than the swiftest poison, the mutilated spell had entwined itself into the very essence of life. There would be no getting rid of it.

“What have you done!” Solem repeated, turning his fury on Rennais, holding her in place with blazing light. The horrifying light burned her, but she could not move, could not look away. She was surrounded by his light, by his anger.

“Please,” she cried, “please. I only wanted them to appreciate what you have done. They should respect you, but they do not even know you exist!”

His light was suffocating her. He wanted her to suffer; she’d ruined his creation, his love’s creation. He wanted her to suffer as she had made him suffer, without end. “There are other ways! Why - ”

“There was not! You take for granted what is always there! I know.” She forced herself to gaze into his eyes, even though it hurt. “They would never understand that what they have is a gift if they did not think they might lose it.” Through her pain she reached out with her mind, with her heart. “Solem. Solem, please. I did this because I love you!”

He saw into her mind, into her shadowed, pain-filled heart, and immediately he released her. He drew away from her as if it were she that burned him. How had he not noticed? “You take for granted, what’s always there…” He echoed her words in horror. It finally dawned on him that everything she had done, everything, she had done for him.

Rennais’ heart grew cold. Solem felt nothing for her; not even kinship. And now she had made him hate her. She drew her mind away from his, suffering a shock as deep as his own. She had been so wrong, and now there was no fixing it. Before he had interrupted her spell, she had intended to leave a string of it open, so that she could unravel it when the new beings had learned their lesson. But now, the curse was permanent.

“Leave,” Solem’s voice was quiet and grave. “Leave, and do not ever show your face in my presence again. What you’ve done is unforgivable.”

“But this is not what I intended! You ruined it!” Rennais cried out. How could he blame this on her?

He turned his back on her. “I said, leave.”

“But... If we worked together, perhaps we could find away to fix it…”

“Go!” Solem's voice was shaking.

“But... I love you.” Her voice was barely a whisper. He merely stood there, silent. She waited; surely, he would change his mind. He must! Wasn’t he as lonely as she? Hadn't he, too, suffered the pain of unrequited love? How could he turn her away so callously?

But as the sun began to rise, she realized that he was not going to change his mind. And on that morning, a seed of pain buried itself deep in her heart, driving her immortal mind into a madness the likes of which, just as her tortures of so long ago, no mortal could ever imagine.

If he would pierce her heart with this rejection, then he would receive the same.

She fled into the depths of the northern mountains, to the cold, bleak snow. There she nursed her wounds, and plotted revenge. She would make him realize his mistake, no matter how long it took.

But Rennais holds this grudge not against the victims of her curse, mortals such as you and I. Her rage is only for Solem, and any who get in the way of her revenge. For the innocent she is the gentle shepherd, kind and loving, easing the pain of Life's suffering with an end called death.

So it has been told, from my ancestors to you, and so it shall be told again.