Wendigo_
The Dictionary Example of Insomnia
Prologue
Somewhere, in a faraway place inhabited by faraway people with faraway lives, there managed to exist creatures not so unlike ourselves. They too had lives of their own. They had needs, wants, dreams, passions, ambitions, intelligence and a desire to establish a place for themselves in their distant world. They too were divided amongst themselves and competed for dominance, creating a cycle of assured loss for all parties involved. They too were born into this world and, some sooner than others, departed from it to places yet even further away. However, to a child in this faraway land, such things were not of concern. Not yet relevant to their world nor intriguing in any way. They had far more important things to attend to. At least in their own little worlds.
For a pair of such children, their world began at the shore. On this shore, where frothing waves caressed the soft sands that marked the beginning of one thing and the end of another, sat a fair village by the name of Haven. In this village the pair resided, perhaps spending their time trudging through pristine waters while drowning in the pervasive scent of salt as they searched for imaginary treasures. Perhaps they pretended to fight each other with swords of wood and shields of bark. Perhaps they crept through the nearby forest, pretending to hide from monsters of unknown origin in the lush tropical foliage. Yet, such things were only pretend. These acts of children’s imaginations were contemporaries to very real fights and very real monsters. Before too long, one world would overtake the other, seizing it in the cold and firm grip of reality. However, for this instance in time, the pair were free to enjoy the universal innocence of youth and yet to experience the sorrow that life brings. Such things are inescapable, it seems, no matter how faraway one ventures.
Lore
Haven was but one small village that resided on the coast of Illia, the humble Human Empire. The nation bore only meager power as a consequence of the less than exceptional race that inhabited it. Humans, lacking any semblance of natural magical capabilities, relied on their wit and pure ambition to make their way in the world. Inevitably, in the face of more gifted races, they were limited in their capacity to grow and conquer. In the center of Illia rose a mountain of stone and cement, with narrow valleys of brick in which everything from commerce to crime occurred. This capital city, Illius, was truly beautiful in its formidability, despite its residents’ less than formidable place in the world. In this capital resided the royalty of humanity. For generations this lineage carefully navigated the fate of the empire through the interests of the other more powerful nations.
Illia was a faithless empire. Centuries of living with the odds stacked against them instilled a strong sense of objectivity within their culture. No deities took pity on them, and so no deity earned their devotion. This did not mean they did not believe in them. Quite the contrary, knowledge of the divine was both widespread and widely accepted. Of the Seven Deities, four had made themselves the subjects of equally as many nations’ prayers, two were paid no mind, and one gave rise to them all. In the beginning, Ido, the Deity of Time, set all things in motion. Soon after, the world was filled with light, of which the Deity Lys oversaw. Nihilo, the Deity of Shadow, followed in her wake. These three deities were ubiquitous and inescapable, and so no one race could lay claim to their favor.
The remaining four were not so impartial. Mistral, the Deity of the Air, was the patron of the Etesians, a race of bird people who resided within a large island nation in the southern sea. Their unmatched mobility gave rise to a flourishing trade economy, the presence of which could be felt no matter one found themselves in the world. To the east of the humans rose a mountainous nation in which a race known as the Aardians worshipped their patron deity Terrid, the god of Earth. These hulking beings were, quite literally, one with the Earth. It was not abnormal to find tufts of moss growing against their bark-like skin, or a nest of birds within their course hair that curled and twisted like roots. The western sea was dominated by the island empire of the Lautians, a race of creatures not very unlike humans. However, legend holds that they gained the favor of Mare, the Deity of the Sea, and were bestowed the ability to breathe in both the air and the water. Although, many traveler’s tales include the common theme of their seal-like skin being particularly vulnerable to sunburn.
The final nation was not only the largest but also the most powerful. The Angelians, an elvish race, possessed the largest portion of the mainland by an outstanding margin. The Deity of Magic, Idan, saw potential in the distant ancestors of this race and bestowed upon them a natural mastery of magic, allowing them both a means to advanced technology and immense military power. The nationalistic fervor of the Angelians was thus unrivaled by any other race, and they were not opposed to asserting their claimed superiority. The Angelians quickly developed a society far more advanced than any other early in this world’s history, only becoming challenged by the Aardians, Etesians, and Lautians centuries later.
Humanity, however, had failed to become the equal of any of the races.
