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Description
In the Beginning
Sun-stealers. Water-stealers. Earth-stealers. Break them down. Break them down. Break them down!

In the beginning, the great world tree Guthanyaroot rose above the eternal field of Gaiata, and provided the shade in which the ninety-nine Nolyan flowers grew. After unknown millennia had passed in peace and tranquility, a pair of fruits fell from the branches of Guthanyaroot and began to grow from the soil of eternal field.
The seeds grew slowly, but they were destined from the beginning to shape the things to come. On one side grew Domen and on the other Astan, each of them initially unaware of each other's presence, much less the world around them. But in time, each began to perceive the other, first as a shadow that blocked the sun during different times of day, then as a competitor, sucking resources out of the earth with no willingness to share. Although they had not developed conscious minds yet, Domen and Astan had already begun to hate one another.
On the day that the two finally opened their eyes, planted their limbs upon the surface of the earth and rose from the ground, each had already decided on a simgle objective: destroy the other, the intruder, the aggressor, the foe whom they had recognized for so long but had been unable to remove. Now they were ready to act upon their desires. Now the battle would begin.
It is unknown for how long Domen and Astan fought. Certainly for centuries. Perhaps for millennia. They did not perceive days and nights, months and years—time was inconsequential to them. Only victory mattered. Yet victory was the one thing that neither could achieve, for they were equally matched in every way. Their minds and bodies were pre-programmed to develop knowledge, skills and abilities without ever having to learn them from an outside source, and every time one conceived of a new attack, the other would simultaneously develop the defense to counter it. And so, the battle finally reached an impasse and reluctantly had to be halted. Or so it seemed, until the world tree dropped a rain of new fruit upon the eternal field, and Domen and Astan seized the opportunity to grow armies that would follow their desire to overthrow and destroy their enemy.
Thus, it came to be that the Domeni and Astani were born to hate one another even though they shared a common origin. The terrible will of the first two was imposed upon the next generation long before the seeds ever had the chance to form a consciousness of their own. And they grew, and they rose from the ground, and they took up arms against their brethren, just as their namesakes had done so long ago.
Both sides were evenly matched. Neither side could kill the other. And so the war dragged on, far greater in scope and scale now, but with the same impossible lack of outcome.
Eventually, the Nolyan flowers released their seeds into the wind and they scattered across Gaiata, generating new civilizations where they landed. Domen and Astan sensed this and dispatched their underlings to subjugate the new races and exploit them for the war. Some Nolyans, like the Drak and Gaen fled the conflict by staying on the move and hiding away in the remotest wilderness. Others, like the Faeries, Dwarves, and Elves agreed to serve the children of Guthanyaroot, gaining knowledge and the chance to establish cities in exchange for becoming a cog in the war machine. Still others, like the Kharrahk, tried to resist the power of the Domeni and Astani and find freedom for themselves. The dissenters were crushed for their disobedience, obliterated as a species without remorse or a second thought. For in the end, the children of the World Tree were endowed with magical cognizance, technological gifts and overpowering physical might from the day they were born, while the children of the Flowers had the gift of learning things easily, but did not simply open their eyes on the day of their birth to find themselves armed with ten thousand years of knowledge and power.
In time, the continents of the world were populated as Domeni and Astani lords reigned over the Nolyan settlements whose resources and populations they claimed as their own. The war continued with neither side gaining an upper hand until the world's lands were split entirely in two, half ruled over by the Domeni, half by the Astani.

And then the last day of the first Era dawned.

Having battled each other all across the planet without either emerging triumphant, Domen and Astan returned to their place of origin, clashing again on the eternal field in the shadow of Guthanyaroot. There, they churned the ground to mud and trampled the Nolyan flowers beneath their feet as they rained blow after blow upon one another. Suddenly, after a particularly vicious clash, there was a crack that ripped through the air to signal a change in the course of destiny.
A branch had broken from the world tree and landed in the wretched muck at the base of Guthanyaroot. Domen and Astan both looked to the source of the terrible noise and saw not a broken branch but a sword, Yorenki, its blade formed from the splintered edge of the World Tree itself.
Both leapt for the dreadful weapon at once. Domen's fingers closed around it first. The blade was torn from the ground, swung back and thrust forward without thought, instinct alone guiding the fateful blow.
The broken tip of the blade pierced Astan's chest, cutting through flesh, bone and heart with impossible ease. Astan's body, which had previously seemed impervious to damage, shuddered, cracked, and burst, a million pieces flying through the air in a terrible cloud of burning gore.
Domen's eyes widened at the sight of his eternal enemy finally defeated. But triumph was short-lived.
Such was the force with which Domen had driven the blade into Astan's heart, that a splinter of the branch had pushed back and stabbed into the skin of Domen's own hand. Seconds later, the same shudders, the same cracks that had signaled Astan's demise wracked Domen's frame as well, and they spread out from the splinter to shot though his body. The second explosion threw the sword Yorenki into the sky as debris rained down on the eternal field.

Domen and Astan were gone.

The first Era had ended.

Suddenly, the future lay in the hands of those who had never before been given the chance to live or think for themselves.

Description
In the Beginning
Sun-stealers. Water-stealers. Earth-stealers. Break them down. Break them down. Break them down!

In the beginning, the great world tree Guthanyaroot rose above the eternal field of Gaiata, and provided the shade in which the ninety-nine Nolyan flowers grew. After unknown millennia had passed in peace and tranquility, a pair of fruits fell from the branches of Guthanyaroot and began to grow from the soil of eternal field.
The seeds grew slowly, but they were destined from the beginning to shape the things to come. On one side grew Domen and on the other Astan, each of them initially unaware of each other's presence, much less the world around them. But in time, each began to perceive the other, first as a shadow that blocked the sun during different times of day, then as a competitor, sucking resources out of the earth with no willingness to share. Although they had not developed conscious minds yet, Domen and Astan had already begun to hate one another.
On the day that the two finally opened their eyes, planted their limbs upon the surface of the earth and rose from the ground, each had already decided on a simgle objective: destroy the other, the intruder, the aggressor, the foe whom they had recognized for so long but had been unable to remove. Now they were ready to act upon their desires. Now the battle would begin.
It is unknown for how long Domen and Astan fought. Certainly for centuries. Perhaps for millennia. They did not perceive days and nights, months and years—time was inconsequential to them. Only victory mattered. Yet victory was the one thing that neither could achieve, for they were equally matched in every way. Their minds and bodies were pre-programmed to develop knowledge, skills and abilities without ever having to learn them from an outside source, and every time one conceived of a new attack, the other would simultaneously develop the defense to counter it. And so, the battle finally reached an impasse and reluctantly had to be halted. Or so it seemed, until the world tree dropped a rain of new fruit upon the eternal field, and Domen and Astan seized the opportunity to grow armies that would follow their desire to overthrow and destroy their enemy.
Thus, it came to be that the Domeni and Astani were born to hate one another even though they shared a common origin. The terrible will of the first two was imposed upon the next generation long before the seeds ever had the chance to form a consciousness of their own. And they grew, and they rose from the ground, and they took up arms against their brethren, just as their namesakes had done so long ago.
Both sides were evenly matched. Neither side could kill the other. And so the war dragged on, far greater in scope and scale now, but with the same impossible lack of outcome.
Eventually, the Nolyan flowers released their seeds into the wind and they scattered across Gaiata, generating new civilizations where they landed. Domen and Astan sensed this and dispatched their underlings to subjugate the new races and exploit them for the war. Some Nolyans, like the Drak and Gaen fled the conflict by staying on the move and hiding away in the remotest wilderness. Others, like the Faeries, Dwarves, and Elves agreed to serve the children of Guthanyaroot, gaining knowledge and the chance to establish cities in exchange for becoming a cog in the war machine. Still others, like the Kharrahk, tried to resist the power of the Domeni and Astani and find freedom for themselves. The dissenters were crushed for their disobedience, obliterated as a species without remorse or a second thought. For in the end, the children of the World Tree were endowed with magical cognizance, technological gifts and overpowering physical might from the day they were born, while the children of the Flowers had the gift of learning things easily, but did not simply open their eyes on the day of their birth to find themselves armed with ten thousand years of knowledge and power.
In time, the continents of the world were populated as Domeni and Astani lords reigned over the Nolyan settlements whose resources and populations they claimed as their own. The war continued with neither side gaining an upper hand until the world's lands were split entirely in two, half ruled over by the Domeni, half by the Astani.

And then the last day of the first Era dawned.

Having battled each other all across the planet without either emerging triumphant, Domen and Astan returned to their place of origin, clashing again on the eternal field in the shadow of Guthanyaroot. There, they churned the ground to mud and trampled the Nolyan flowers beneath their feet as they rained blow after blow upon one another. Suddenly, after a particularly vicious clash, there was a crack that ripped through the air to signal a change in the course of destiny.
A branch had broken from the world tree and landed in the wretched muck at the base of Guthanyaroot. Domen and Astan both looked to the source of the terrible noise and saw not a broken branch but a sword, Yorenki, its blade formed from the splintered edge of the World Tree itself.
Both leapt for the dreadful weapon at once. Domen's fingers closed around it first. The blade was torn from the ground, swung back and thrust forward without thought, instinct alone guiding the fateful blow.
The broken tip of the blade pierced Astan's chest, cutting through flesh, bone and heart with impossible ease. Astan's body, which had previously seemed impervious to damage, shuddered, cracked, and burst, a million pieces flying through the air in a terrible cloud of burning gore.
Domen's eyes widened at the sight of his eternal enemy finally defeated. But triumph was short-lived.
Such was the force with which Domen had driven the blade into Astan's heart, that a splinter of the branch had pushed back and stabbed into the skin of Domen's own hand. Seconds later, the same shudders, the same cracks that had signaled Astan's demise wracked Domen's frame as well, and they spread out from the splinter to shot though his body. The second explosion threw the sword Yorenki into the sky as debris rained down on the eternal field.

Domen and Astan were gone.

The first Era had ended.

Suddenly, the future lay in the hands of those who had never before been given the chance to live or think for themselves.