Hierophant: Introduction to a Faraway World

Long ago, a wise Draak-Kin foresaw that the destiny of its People lay far, far away, beyond the limits of the Breath of the World. It cast its gaze to the stars, seeking a new home where the Kin might thrive and grow.

Through a series of incredible events, it discovered a world orbiting two Suns locked in a tight embrace. Though filled with a diversity of Life surpassing that of blessed Earth, it was fractured and divided, its many lands sundered by a Poison which could not be tamed. Three Moons attended it; one was Good, one was Terrible, and the last was neither, and also both.

Projecting its Spirit to that faraway planet, the Draak-Kin witnessed its deep and unfinished History. Seeds were planted in the distant past which had bloomed spectacularly and died horribly, and many still slept, awaiting their time. Not one, but many People had arisen, each with their own Names and Songs, and many remained still. Fire could be summoned with the wave of a talon, Water frozen or evaporated with a word, and a whole land could be purified with a single musical performance, all due to the Servants Unseen, a blessed curse so powerful that the rest of the galaxy had forsaken the planet, save for one Watcher who reached down with a small yet powerful Hand.

No Others would interfere.

The dangers were great and many.

The possibilities were infinite.

It was perfect.

And so began the migration of the Draak-Kin, mightiest of the Children of Heaven and Earth, to a New Home. Here, their Minds, their Bodies, and even their Spirits would be transformed, and they would become True Children not only of Earth and Sun, but of the Onesong.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Such was the answer of a certain (rather important) Kin who took part in the Exodus when asked by younger being how dragons arrived on the world that they named Newhome. It was a fitting name, for though the planet had, as Earth, countless names among sentient beings, it would be the dragons would would unite this world, and it would truly become a new home for all, unlike what it had been before.

Even after witnessing much and speaking with Darktooth about it many times, and even visiting it in a way, my own understanding of Newhome is still rather basic. Its vast archipelago of multicolored islands set like a trove of jewels on a green velvet sea, its starless purple skies, and the feeling of the Pulse tearing through everything every 38.38 Earth hours must be experienced to be understood, and actually living on Newhome encompasses layers and layers of reality to which all of this is exactly as meaningful and consequential as a curtain.

I'll try to list a few basics to help you become acquainted with this old and remarkable planet.

Newhome is located in a binary star system, and its orbit is rotationally synchronous to the twin stars, like Earth's moon is to Earth. This means that half of the planet is always benighted, and in the other half, the suns never rise nor set, but always appear to be in the same place. That place is low on the horizon near the poles and perfectly overhead at the equator. This lack of a day/night cycle affects the world and its evolution in some very interesting ways, and the basic unit of planetary time is not marked by changing light levels but instead by the Pulse (see below). The sky appears purple, but this slowly changes from a bluish-purple through true purple to a reddish-purple as the planet revolves around the suns. Azura, which refers to the time the sky is bluest, marks the beginning and end of a year on Newhome.

While Newhome is slightly larger than Earth in diameter, its gravity is less. My theory was that this was because its core is composed of lighter stuff than Earth's, but Darktooth just tail-scoffed when I suggested that. When I asked why, he stated that while I was not wholly incorrect, I was still far from the truth of it, and refused further elaboration. In any case, its near-surface gravitational acceleration is around 4.2 meters per second squared, a bit less than half of Earth's. You can jump over twice as high and far on Newhome as you can on Earth, and fall safely from a much higher height. This has also deeply affected the evolution and abilities of its lifeforms.

Newhome has three primary satellites, one of which is synchronized in its rotation (like the moon to Earth, appearing unchanging), one of which has an independent rotation (spinning visibly, like the Earth from the perspective of the Sun) and one is completely stationary, and neither rotates nor revolves around Newhome but simply "follows" it, for lack of a better term.

A liquid solution containing high amounts of hydrogen and oxygen covers most of the planet. Quite unlike our own blessed, life-filled seas, however, the ocean of Newhome is barren. Not a single known lifeform exists within it. The (surface) cause is simple: the liquid solution is a powerful and all-devouring acid. For this reason, the ocean of Newhome is referred to by most as the Melt. Anything which isn't a rock (and even some rocks) will disintegrate if immersed in it. Putting your hand into it for even one full second would pretty much destroy your epidermal layer, leaving your hand raw and red (and very painful) but still functional, and the damage would heal over time. Putting it in for much more than that would cause scarring, then irreparable damage, and then you would start losing flesh, and finally even your bones would melt; after an hour, nothing would be left but a dispersing smear of discoloration. Death by immersion in the ocean... "laving", as it is called... is considered the most horrible death possible. Fortunately, the ocean evaporation gathers into clouds of pure water, which then fall onto the land in a rain both thicker and gentler than Earth's due to the gravitational difference. Inland, lakes, rivers and springs thrive; some of these lakes are the size of Earth's Baikal or Superior, and are quite safe to drink from and swim in. Once again, evolutionary impact is immense. Because of the Melt, the evolution of most of the islands on Newhome is often radically different. Think of the incredible genetic uniqueness of an isolated Earth island like New Zealand, and how different many of its indigenous lifeforms are. That uniqueness is multiplied manyfold on every island of Newhome, some of which host biomes which we simply do not have on Earth.

A magnetic field activates across the planet's surface from the south pole to the north at an interval equal to a little less than 40 Earth hours. This is known as the Pulse. Seeing it conquer the sky in incredible yellows and blues and then fade away is a sight to which only those who have seen Earth's auroras from near the poles could relate. The visual effect lasts for about twenty seconds from any given point on the surface. While this has zero physical effect on the planet below, it has a powerful energetic impact, and even beings without the ability to sense light feel its passing. For a few species, it is a pleasurable sensation. For another few, it is painful. For most, it is a gentle (though deep) tingling, neutral in character, which can be felt all the way to the sternum. This creates the standard unit of time, the pul.

I will say no more to avoid risk of (further) informational overload. For more information on life on Newhome, please refer to my brief lecture on its gentas (sentient species). Before you do, however, take a moment to imagine yourself gazing at a beautiful yet deadly malachite-green ocean under a purple sky strewn with silver clouds, and the feeling of the Pulse slowly electrifying and then leaving your body. These are things that are so common that most beings on Newhome think of them as the experience of all Life in all places.

You know better, of course.

-L