Chapter Ten
Then Terfelial answered.
“There is no need for such a thing,” she said. “The world of the eggles was not made to be possessed. It belongs to the Gods, as it has since its first forming.”
Her gaze softened, though her authority did not waver.
“I rejoice that you love the world so deeply that you would call it your own,” she continued. “But what you seek is not born of duty… it is born of pride.”
And the truth of her words carried weight.
“The request is denied.”
And so it was spoken.
The Five bowed, though their spirits were heavy, and they departed from Araboth, returning to the world below with disappointment unspoken, yet deeply felt.
But Terfelial was not finished.
For on that very day, she descended once more—this time to the temple of Athengriel, at the sacred center of the world. And from the four corners, the other Arucana were summoned, until the Five stood again in her presence.
There, beneath the towering heights of the central temple, she spoke with them—not as sovereign alone, but as creator and guide.
And there was much said.
Words of purpose.
Words of balance.
Words of the order that binds all things.
The Five spoke in turn, offering their thoughts, their reasoning, their longing. And though the exchange was great and earnest, in the end, the will of Araboth stood unbroken.
For what is set in the foundation of creation cannot be remade by desire alone.
And seeing their unrest, Terfelial gave them this assurance:
“In time, this longing will fade from you,” she said. “You will come to understand that what you sought was not yours to bear. And when that day comes, the weight of it shall trouble you no more.”
And with that, the Great Mother Hen ascended once again to Araboth.
And the Five remained… beneath the heavens they still guarded, carrying both their duty… and the quiet echo of a denied desire.
Yet the yokes of the Arucana were not turned.
Though the words of Terfelial had been spoken with truth and authority, they did not take root within them. The longing remained. The conviction endured. And in the silence that followed their denial, their desire hardened into something far more dangerous.
They still believed the world was theirs.
Only now… they believed it would never be given.
And so, in the shadow of disappointment, a new path was conceived.
It was Barmaak who first gave voice to it.
She stood among her siblings and spoke not of patience, nor of obedience—but of design.
“If the world cannot be granted to us,” she said, “then let it become ours by another means.”
Her words fell low, yet struck deep.
“We shall not take the world by force… but by yoke.”
And she revealed her design:
That they would mingle their divine essence with chosen eggles of the world. That from this union would arise a new lineage—beings neither wholly mortal nor fully divine, but bound in loyalty to their creators. And through them, the world would be reshaped.
“For they will multiply,” she said, “and their kind will spread. And in time, all the world shall bear our mark.”
And what was spoken in secrecy was received in silence.
Then, one by one, the others gave assent.
And the Five swore themselves to one another.
Thus was the pact sealed—not in light, but in quiet defiance of Araboth.
And in time, their plan bore fruit.
From their design came a new race—greater in stature than the eggles, their forms strong and imposing, their shells marked with a faint blue radiance, the unmistakable sign of their divine origin.
These were the Arucane.
They were born with strength beyond mortal measure. Knowledge came to them as instinct. Power flowed through them as inheritance.
And where they moved, others could not help but yield.
For they were not merely children.
They were claim made living.
And it was not long before they rose.
Among the eggles, they became rulers—kings and queens, sovereigns of land and people. Their dominion spread swiftly, not through chaos, but through inevitability. For who could stand against those who bore the strength of gods?
And as their influence grew, so too did reverence for their creators.
The Arucana were no longer seen as guardians alone…
They were worshipped.
Thus did the balance begin to shift.
For a time, this new order remained hidden from the sight of Araboth.
The heavens did not stir, and the silence above held.
But wickedness does not remain veiled forever.