|"Each year there is an Eclipse, where mystery
is just as black and present as the shadows
in the sky. We celebrate this time of year by
testing our own merits. But who keeps an eye
out on the horizon, watchful of the heralds
and emissaries who know what is really
lurking in the beyond?
I fear in these moments, as our blades clash
and our skin bleeds, we forget that we should
be afraid. In each passing Eclipse something
else becomes stronger.
And whatever it is; it's not on your side," he
sighed into the darkness of the night. "And
no one listens to my warnings on this."
"They could always start now." She replied,
voice hollowed with ache. His apparition was
so clear, so close; she could almost touch the
illusion of him.
He looked back at her, eyes foreign and
alien in his visage. "They won't."
|"We keep the archives of all that has happened, and all that will. When
the Archivist returns, he will be proud of all that we keep."
|As it is on the night of every Eclipse, those born beneath the Moons are left to suffer Rekura's curse. And as it has been
longer than many care to remember, those born to the Eclipse were taken from their families just hours after being born.
Disappearing without a trace, as if they had never been there in the first place.
This time there was nothing to tell of the tale of what had take nthem . No dramatic abduction.
Just simply gone; ghosts in the world they had just entered.
It would be two weeks after the Eclipse that the WoRs of this Eclipse would resurface. Sent back to the places they were
taken from, just as quietly as they were taken. They were all older than they had left; but some came back aged by more
months than others.
|It is a world with no proper name, one that exists in a temporal void and is inhabited by beings made of
smoking light. They call themselves the Archivists, and claim to follow the One Archivist. Neither peaceful
or warmongering in nature, they are a neutral species simply there to observe and record all that they
They call the world the Archives, but that is not it's name.
"It never had a name," the Archivists will say whenever asked. Simply stating a fact, and never offering to
give it a name. It wasn't for them to do so.
The WoRs were brought to the Archives, arriving at different points in time and all having been present
together when they were returned home. Some arrived early, spending what would amount to years in
the company of these Archivists, while others were only there for weeks or months.
"We didn't call you here," the Archivists told them each. "But there is no way to find this place unless He
opens the way. There is something here for you to learn, maybe. Or you are meant to take something
back with you. Purpose and destiny is fickle that way."
Upon the world of the Archives there is an abundance of lush forests, mountain terrains, and oceans that
cover most of the world. There are ruins across the lands, stone architecture which - - many millions of
eras ago - - had been something greater. Now all that remain are what time has not completely eroded.
It is a quiet, almost still, world. A perfectly cared for museum of history that the Archivists keep watch over.
There is a dangerous looking spire that rises out of the main continent, all darkness and hooked edges
that looks like a spine. It reaches deep into the ground, and beyond the clouds to where it breaks
through the atmosphere and connects the Archives to the world of light in the sky.
There are boardwalks across the oceans, and giant skeletal remains are preserved in the water; the
bones smoking with traces of dark energies that still haven't faded with time.
"They died here, as everything always does. One body shed for another, as the cycle continues." When
asked why, or how, the response; "They brought the War to the Archivist."
For the Archivists the Archives was a world were knowledge was meant to be kept and shared. Questions,
once asked, were always answered. And the Archivists sought to understand the Raveens that were
brought to the world. They had the power to see into the Bloodlines of the WoRs, to tell them about their
biological families and homeworld.
It was a curiosity for them. But they were blunt with their own questions, not against confusing the WoRs
into thinking they were seeing things they were not, all for the sake of understanding them.
|While not an evil world, there were areas and ruins that had obviously suffered the ravage of war. And life
had not existed in the large frames that the bones of the oceans and mountains proved once roamed the
Archives. Beyond the Archivists only small prey animals existed now; nothing larger than a small deer,
and nothing more predatory than a bird.
"We keep the world from evolving, so that it is preserved the way it was left."
Teaching was not their strong suit. While they were masters of collecting knowledge, when it came to
sharing it, the entities of the Archives were not used to emotions. They could - - and often did - -
overwhelm others with information and demands for understanding.
Growing up on the Archives would not have been an easy task. The Archivists did not have the need to
eat, and teaching the young WoRs to hunt was a troublesome affair.
Dealing with the Elemental Mutations (some more deadly than others) was an added hindrance. There
would have been times when the natives would have been hard pressed to not simply 'remove' a WoR in
order to protect the world from harm.
The Archivists all seemed to share one same purpose, but there were those among their numbers that
had more practical knowledge than others. These were the entities who taught some to Fight, some to
Heal, and others how to Listen.
But the lessons were rare, and only offered to those who the Archivists believed willing to learn. Cubs
were simply observed and watched over. And the WoRs themselves became something of a tribe,
banding together with their own kind to hold to some semblance of 'family'.
The older WoRs, those that had reached adulthood, often looked after the younger ones. While the
Archivists were not seen as entities to fear, the manner in which they acted was sometimes unsettling.
Sometimes the WoRs would feel as if they had to keep themselves distanced from them; other times they
would feel perfectly safe.
It is due to this that the WoRs became a close-knit group.
The Archivists kept an eye on them at all times. Seemingly indifferent to the passage of time themselves,
they were only too curious about the WoRs that were nothing like their own kind. If anyone ever asked,
they were also curious because the WoR's species as a whole was unfamiliar to the Archivists beyond
stories and memories they kept safe.
If any of the WoRs were seen as particularly interesting, they were taken to the spire, and led up the long
journey (a quest that takes months) to the light of the sky. To where a pocket of energies kept the air
breathable, and a stairway of light steps offered access to a Sanctuary of memory.
"The sky is where the Archivist kept all the secrets."
The stars were visible in their vastness up here, and in the space-scape beyond the burning shadows of
the unknown flickered in the distance. Held at bay by power that hummed in the air around the Archives
"We will share your own with you."
|In the Beginning we were given Purpose,
When the worlds were being threatened we were tasked to Remember,
So that the Archivist could follow His brethren in their Fall.
We kept the Archives as it was given to Us,
In this state it remains until He Returns,
And has need of It.
The War is what began This,
And the War will be what Ends.
When the Eye opened Here,
The shadows burned to Destroy.
He sent us Away,
To survive the Threat,
And keep it Safe.
We exist Now,
As we did Then,
Archivists And Archivist.
|"The marks you carry are the signs
of the Stars on your arrival. They
mark the age when you arrived."
"We are not the only ones who
remain here. But we are the only
ones you will ever meet."
"When the time is right, He will
call you back. The Archives are
not your home."
|Click on the images to the right to
learn about the different Areas of