Free from Binary Opposition.
It is the heart that contemplates the laws of the world and the world's existence in its present.
Distant is the sky, pale in colors.
That exquisite figure stands upon an indistinguishable realm.
Gazing afar towards the whereabouts of the stars.
That love is an ephemeral dream.
That dream is the remnants of eternity.
The unrealizable, the sparks of a transient encounter,
I am still gazing upon it.
As if on a snowy night, looking faraway into void space.”
- Amzielian Proverb
Time is merely a illusion of structure. We try of course, for there is clarity when we bring structure to the universe. View it in a way so that we can understand it. Feel that we have some meaning of self-worth in its yawning expanse. Watches, calendars, clocks, and all manner of machines attempt to prolong this blissful illusion for as long as they can. An average specimen can grasp how long a day is, or a week, month, and year. Comprehend the length of a decade and century. But what about when you extend that timeframe? Can one comprehend the difference between a billion and a trillion in years? No, most specimen are not wired to comprehend that kind of scale. That at a certain point large numbers became these weird, intangible concepts. To the Amziel race they have lived without the illusion of time. For like grubs withering in the dry dirt, feelers grasping for any molecule of moisture, they lived in a constant state of trying to survive in what was a harsh world of Angelarium. Monastic orders huddled together for years as they endure the cruelty of the world. To put a timescale is trivial. The war against their aggressors, the Zamiel may have very well lasted for eternity. This ceaseless, senseless ebb of conflict would come to a end by the hand of one of the Auinozoaun Remnants, beings who came before the clock began to tick. The end came at a price however. A price that some silently consider to be too great. On that day the world was renew and cleansed. The Great Book of Amzielity now nothing more than a pile of cinder in a firepit. Stories of Angelarium that now only exist in living memory. The Amziel race may have a new book to write their future. But it's by the hand of others who will write it contents. Iammelon, Athilians, and the Delmah all jointly write upon the pages of Angelarium to write their respective view of the world future.
Under the vast collective shadow that the Amziel refer to as the Triad, the natives of Angelarium took awhile to come to terms with their new place in the galaxy. The cultural shock alone sent their society into disarray. The sheer whiplash of having lived decades of fighting to the darkness to now living in peaceful cities that are looked over by eyes in the skies was apparent. To add in to their stress they have to get used to the fact that they were genetically altered to cut themselves off by one of the Auinozoaun Remnant who had made the first Amziel aeons ago. Ironically enough they were saved by having their genes spliced with different Auinozoaun Remnants DNA. In the end result they are akin to something of a hybrid of once dead species. Mammalian in shape, posses horns from their Amziel core, Teu-tel-quessir colored body markings, the golden ichor of the Zeidaen running through their veins, and rather nebulously the mental fortitude of the Drachidae. It's safe to say that they are nothing more than hatchlings fumbling around in a enclosed garden. Their story as survivors has come to a close. But there is one story that is yet to be brought to an end. Ancient, forgotten stories left over from celestial conflicts of yore. To the era even before the Auinozoaun Remnants.
Long ago in a place far, far away. Were a race of people, the Original Amziels. Whose glittering influence extended far and wide across the breath of infinity. Who achieved marvels of cosmic engineering that only few could rival. They have long existed under a signal banner that flew over countless stars for generations. These people, called themselves the Ishnar. Led by the Immaculate One who is seen not only as the head of the Ishnarian Religion, but also a priest, queen, and a prophet. While there were endless stories of her grace, she still suffers from one fact that plagues all supposed divines. Hubris. And it is in this hubris that she failed to react to the infection that overran her precious garden. Betrayed by who she believed to have been a friend. She could do nothing as she watches on in anguish as her garden burns a light. As the cosmic flames howled she led what remains of the Ishnar away from the disaster. Sailed deep, deep into the unfathomable depths of the great void. Never to be seen again. A fate ironically similar to the Il and Qoatl.
The Legacy of the Ishnar would've been truly forgotten if it weren't for the actions of the Auinozoaun Remnants who restored the world. That while entire cities and any proof of modern civilization were erased, in their place were relics and ruins scattered across the countryside. It's uncertain for what lies for those who find these relics and attempt to understand them. It's uncertain the ripples that will be caused when one sets off a chain of events. What is certain however, is the story of the Amziel is far from over.