The dragons were the first voices of the world—creatures not born, but shaped by the raw elements that forged the Ashen Lands. Their existence was intertwined with the foundations of creation itself. Through them, flame, wind, stone, and life moved in harmony, each force balanced against the others.
They were neither gods nor tyrants, but stewards of the world’s balance. Each dragon was bound to the world, quietly guiding the forces that sustained it. In their presence, storms softened, rivers kept their paths, and the land flourished. Life grew strong beneath their watch, though few mortals understood the quiet labor behind that harmony.
Though capable of immense power, the dragons chose to walk among mortals in mortal form. They believed that understanding and patience would allow mortals to grow alongside them, rather than beneath them. But this restraint created distance. To many mortals, the dragons appeared distant and unknowable, their wisdom mistaken for control.
Over generations, envy and ambition began to grow within certain mortal leaders. These men and women—ancestors of the families who would later form the High Order—began to question why mortals should remain under the stewardship of beings they could never rival.
The dragons sensed this change. They saw the rise of resentment and the quiet plotting that followed. Yet for all their power, they could not prevent what they themselves had nurtured—the mortal desire to rule the world without them.