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The Xalla were a rich and diverse people, one of the first confirmed to have stepped foot into the library, followed shortly thereafter by their migration through untold worlds. Sadly, their time has long since passed, and knowledge of their culture and religion is limited at best.

The brunt of this knowledge comes from the oral myth passed down their lineages, few and scattered they may be.

At the beginning of all things, in the time before time,

The Sun

The Moon

The World

The Shapen Beings upon the surface,

All of them slept.

The moon did not wake to shroud the world in night, and the sun had not opened its eyes to show the word the light of day.

Nothing upon the surface stirred.

There were no stars, no night, no day.

Only a hushed quiet, as all things dreamt an empty dream.

And so it was for untold time. Who could say how long? Nothing knew and nothing will ever know.

But that is of no importance, for in the time of dreams there was no change, no death and certainly no life.

And so it was. For a long, long time.

And then in that silent, still lake, there was a ripple.

Two of them, directly opposite the other.

On one side of the world, a wolf finally took it upon itself to wake up and see.

And exactly opposite it, an owl did the same.

And wake they did from the endless dream.

The Wolf's first sight was of the sleeping sun.

The Owl's first sight was of the dormant moon.

And for a single moment, they laid their eyes upon an unshapen creation.

Thus did they acquire a sight truer than any other, for their sight was the sight which first beheld the sleeping world, when nothing had stirred to disturb its resting beauty.

And as they woke, as they stared up into the dormant skies, as they felt the dirt at their backs and the air on their face, they began to move.

And with their movement turned the ripples into waves,

The World cracked as the bones neath the dirt began to move.

The Sun flared to life in a wakeful fury and cast upon the Wolf the radiance of the first day.

The Moon began its graceful dance, the light of its phases gracing the owl with the calm of the first night.

And wake did the sky above their heads, as countless stars opened their eyes and stared back upon them.

The Owl and the Wolf got up as one and took the first steps.

They had brought with them change, and given the gift of wakefulness to all the things that came after them.

As one, they looked around, Sight of the Sun and Sight of the Moon looking upon their waking surroundings.

And as one they spoke the very first words:


Their call echoed throughout all of creation, reaching the sun and the moon oh so far away, creeping into the dirt and rocks, seeping into mountains and caves, crawling between the sleeping seeds of forests yet to grow.

All things heard their cry and all things began to wake.

All things began to stir, as the world began to shake.

For theirs was the voice of change.

Thus began the first age.
The age with no name.

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