The Prophecy of the Silent Age
Before the Age of Silence began, before Tohu withdrew the gift of magic in her grief, an unnamed seer spoke these words in the great plaza of Lorenzia. The crowd who heard dismissed them as the ravings of madness-until every word came true.
- Recorded belatedly by witnesses who survived the First War, in the hope that future prophecies would not be so easily ignored
The Prophecy of the Silent Age
Blood calls to blood, and blade to blade,
The children of light turn to fratricide.
Where brothers fought the void together,
Now brother spills brother''s blood upon the earth.The Weaver watches. The Weaver weeps.
Her threads are stained with crimson grief.
And in her sorrow, she will gather
The gift she gave, the light you squandered.Magic will fade from mortal hands.
The Weave will thin to ghostly whispers.
Those who wielded power like birthright
Will find themselves as helpless as the newborn.Long will be the years of silence.
Long will be the age of forgetting.
Generation after generation will rise
Never knowing what their ancestors lost.But silence is not ending.
Forgetting is not erasing.
The Weave remembers, even when you do not.
And one day, one who remembers will call it back.Through sacrifice freely given,
Through love that asks for nothing,
Through wisdom paid for in suffering,
The thread will be found, the Weave rewoven.Until then, learn to live without magic.
Learn what you truly are beneath the power.
Perhaps in the silence, you will hear
What the thunder of spells always drowned out.
Fulfillment
This prophecy has already come to pass. The First War raged for fifty years before Taninsam and Tohu intervened at Nortaq. The punishment was exactly as foretold: Tohu withdrew magic from the world, beginning the Age of Silence that lasted until Auren Vale''s sacrifice restored the Weave.
What makes this prophecy significant today is its final verses-the suggestion that the Age of Silence was not merely punishment but lesson. The mortal races learned to survive without magic. They developed technologies, forged alliances, built civilizations that depended on cooperation rather than power.
For it is written: perhaps the silence was necessary. Perhaps we needed to understand what we truly were-what we could achieve and what we would become-without the crutch of magical power. Perhaps the magic that returned is stronger because it was missed, wiser because it was lost.
Or perhaps another silence awaits, should we repeat the mistakes of our ancestors.