In the beginning, The great spirit Luminarios laid dormant and restful, bound as embodiment to the barren continent of Storm in the middle of The Great Sea, now and then waking to turn a sleepy eye in either direction to check for signs of any life coming her way, and for thousands of years, she saw nothing, and slept. Until one fateful day, a castigate of both paradise and hell descended upon powerful wings to her featureless back, and there he placed from his arms ever so carefully a child against the soft, lifeless sand.

The castigate folded his wings and took a deep breath, looking down at the girl whom slept so soundly against the dead landscape. He seemed not to notice the desolation of this place, the barren gray stone and dust, but instead looked as though heartbroken at the young girl, curled up so peacefully, her chest rising and falling as she slumbered. Her tail was motionless, and her ears flicked softly now and then in her sleep. She was a Sidhe; unlike him she was wingless; and yet to him she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, especially among all of this nothing. His tears were silent as he turned and took one last gaze at the girl over his shoulder; then unfolding his wings ascended once again to wince he came; not forgetting his precious burden but instead having all intention of leaving it behind.

For what reason this being's gift was bestowed to Luminarios, the Spirit never asked, but instead watched the girl with excitement and joy but sadness soon overtook the Spirit; for she knew there was no way the child of both light and darkness would ever survive; and was ashamed at having no means to help her. Yet the girl did survive there in the nothingness... And for a long, long time, she grew and enjoyed life for what there was of it to live. And Luminarios was happy.

A millennium past, and then in the year of Twelve-Oh-Forty-Six Terra Betam in the book of Seh, darkness descended upon the High Elves of Galalaiths. It was a Time of Hate and Woe for them, and noble and pure-hearted as they were, their way of life was threatened by the people known as Solse.

Named by the Elves for the worship of their god in their primeval stages of society, Solse were the one true living embodiment of mortality. They were beautiful, but their skin was flawed, their ears rounded, their bodies more stout, albeit stronger, and they aged quickly, too quickly some might say, to have enough time for their minds to mature properly, their emotions harnessed or their wisdom expanded. For the Solse, life was very short. However, the insight and courage that the Solse displayed had intrigued the Elves greatly, so much so that the Nobles of Galalaiths embraced them whole-heartedly as a people equal in potential for strength, nobility, and prosperity.

They called themselves "Human" and they lived among Galalaiths for an Age, populating and conforming around them, well outgrowing the Elves in numbers: two true-hearted races living in harmony together until the Solse began to give in to their weakness in emotions, their desire for more power, more nobility and fame, and began to loath the Elves of Galalaiths for jealousy alone. The Solse felt oppressed, and in some cases, were in their right to harbor such feelings, as not all Nobles were as true and caring in their intent toward the humans as their namesake suggested. Prejudice filled the golden streets of Icthilad and the Keep was no longer safe for the House of Balaelith.

Icathor and Sycophe, Lord and Lady of the House Balaelith, decided it was time to seek their place among the new haven across the great sea, and readied their sons, Thoras and Talas for the long journey. A gift was bestowed to each child, to the young boy Thorus, who was more than old enough for his first ward of responsibility, a rose was given, pruned and taken from the garden of Lord Icathor's Keep, one that would never wilt or dry, an ever-living creature within a small glass vial, still yet almost too big for Thorus to carry. He was warned by his mother never to remove the rose from its vial, as the immortal roses of Galalaiths were just as deadly as they were beautiful: the thorns imbued with a chaos just as strong at the petals were with serenity.

Talas, the newborn infant, much too young to take care of a piece of his home, much less remember its beauty, was instead given a living part of Galalaiths that would only need love when he was ready to give it: A banyan seed taken straight from the tree at the heart of the watery grove in the center of the great city, a spiritual being that had resided there far longer than the Elves whom treated it with the utmost respect in return for the honor of building their home around it, leaving its waters in perfect peace and tranquility.

Inside a gold locket was placed the tiny seed, which was in-turn hung on an elven chain around the infant's wrist. "Where ever we go, My Sons, Galalaiths will be with us, always and forever.'

Icthilad was their home, and leaving it was nothing short of painful. Four Ships of the most refined and perfect design set off from the port of Icthilad, and on the lead ship, A noble that had ruled peacefully over the city for hundreds of years, watched his kingdom shrink in the distance.

For six weeks the ships pushed onward across the sea, and finally came under the watchful eye of a great spirit, and each passing day, Luminarios, became more and more interested in the Elves and their vessels, and so brought a great storm which rocked their ships and despite their masterful craftsmanship, sunk three of the four vessels to the bottom of the ocean.

This would have been the end of the House of Balaelith, were it not for among the survivors, both Talas and Thorus still breathed. Thorus, aboard the last remaining ship, helped his people search for his missing family, His parents were found among the dead, but his baby brother was not.

Luminarios was distraught at her mistake. never meaning to cause harm to the Nobles, and yet her waves greedily lapped up the flotsam with the tiny infant on it and carried it miles from the wreckage to her lifeless shores. Too focused was she on the creature to notice his people searching desperately for any sign that he may yet survive. The Old Spirit sent her winds to blow in the direction of the baby boy, and the Sidhe woman knew better than to ignore her mother's signals. She found the infant barely alive, and following her instincts and her passion for the barren land, nursed the child back to life, and planted a banyan seed she found inside the most beautiful trinket on his wrist, feeding it the dull sunlight and lush water of Luminarios. She watched the seed spout, and the child cry restlessly, haunted by the need for his family and her less-than-maternal abilities to care for him.

Luminarios watched uneasily, and focused all of her strength in helping the seedling to grow, so that she might use its life force to connect to the pair, and perhaps the earth she was made of as well. She succeeded and the Sidhe woman gave the child up to the young banyan, and watched him finally sleep in restful peace. She watched for nine hundred years as the boy grew in his sleep, and the banyan whispered to her, realizing that Luminarios had finally found her voice, and embodied herself into the tree itself, stretching her branches to reach the clouds and her roots far and wide with power she had never experienced before. Her rains now mixed with the dust and sand, and her roots nursed the lifeless earth to break into soft, fertile soil.

At first, The Banyan's power was unchecked, and the roots split stone deep in the earth, the continent fractured, and Luminarios shook with pain as the land began to break up, spiting down the middle in two places and waking the banyan and her elven son from dreams of nature and creation. Soon the land fell silent again just as quickly as it had begun to roar, and The Banyan had no intention of giving up on it.

With her new-found strength, she sprouted more seedlings, and slowly turned the land green and life began to evolve all around. Another age past, and life of all kinds made its way into the deep and long miles of the Divide. Even a small pilgrimaging community of Solse came to make their home in the beautiful break in the earth, and built towers high enough to watch the sea from wince they came on either side. The Solse began their harvest of the Divide's resources and Luminarios was angered as parts of her forests began to fall at the blades of men.

Once again the land shook, but with intention this time, and the rage of The Great Spirit caused the land to break once again, but this time, the land did not split or fall, but instead just tore into itself with a shadowed scar where the Solse had tried to harness it for themselves. From the maw of the Scar crawled a living manifestation of Luminarios' wrath: Seltigg, The Dragonkin, came from under the mountain to crawl through the scar and onto the surface, where she breathed fire onto the farms of the settlers and terrorized them with all the malice of a mother who's child has been intentionally harmed.

Within The Scar, life still resided, but it was different: darker, as if the fire of hate had burned it alive, and the trees bowed to block out the sun. The Solse, their towers now in ruins and unable to live under the dark and terrifying shadow of Seltigg, left The Divide for another world to claim for their own, and the land was left again in peace for another thousand years and Seltigg went back to sleep within her Darkened Grove.

It was the summer of the Year Seventeen-One-Twenty-Two Terra Betam that a band of High Elves on a single massive ship found their way to the shores of the Divide, the Noble captain of the vessel, a one Thorus Balaelith was determined to find peace for his people, and a perfect place to make their home. The Elves of course were different from the Solse, and respected the land in a way most fitting to The Banyan. And the fisherman's village of Illume was born.

Named after the moon in his tongue and a Lythari maiden that Thorus had adopted as his own daughter, The humble village of Illume thrived peacefully for several years before the threat that Thorus and his people once fled from haunted them once more. It was the Dragonkin that forced The House Of Balaelith back from the West, and Luminarios was where Thorus still secretly harbored hope of finding his missing brother alive. The gentle vibrations of the elven feet in the earth was more than enough to awaken Seltigg, and once again she spread her wings and breathed deeply. Elves or Solse, Seltigg knew only to protect what was hers. And once again, Thorus' people lived in fear.

Two young warriors came down from the mountains and rose up to defend Illume from the reign of fear, but they were not elves, nor Solse. How the the Wolven sons made their way into to the divide was unknown, but their kind was not to be trusted in the land of elves purely out of the lack of knowledge as to their intentions or what they really were, but the two Wolven Warriors fought valiantly until Seltigg lay slain, and one of the brave brothers life had been sacrificed for the greater good. The remaining brother remorseful as his costly victory and wishing to be left in solitude, disappeared back into the forests of Luminarios.

The Elven Prince was so thankful, that he privately commissioned his mystics to carve a monument in the shape of a wolf's head into the springs deep in the source of the valley springs in memory of the warrior that had lost is life in the battle with the Dragonkin. Thorus forbade his people to step foot that place as it was sacred, and should be left respectfully in peace.

The Elven Prince was determined never to see evil come from The Darkened Grove ever again, and took the one thing he had in his possession that he knew would heal the grove, closing the scar forever. Deep within the scar, Thorus broke the glass vial that held the Rose of Galalaiths which spitefully pricked his hand with one of her thorns. He placed the rose into the blackened grass, and hoped. But the hate that still hid in the Grove rejected the offering, and Thorus fell into a deep sleep while the scar consumed him. The last memories of The House of Balaelith were lost as the noble was never heard from again, and in his place The Divide nursed a new darkness: a demonic corruption that still strides deep within the forests with a power much greater than Seltigg ever had...

Peace came once more to Luminarios, as the Elves cared for the land and showed The Divide, The Mother Banyan, and all her children just as much respect as they showed their own, and In the Year Twenty-One-Oh-Twelve the Nobles brought to their home new breakthroughs in technology, and understanding of the banyan, until most all of the elders would be able to hear Luminarios whispering as she slumbered. They showered her with offerings as society advanced, but industry stayed humble out of respect for such a peaceful land. Luminarios shivered gleefully in her dreams at the love she felt, and the land began to lift into the air on its own accord in response.

The settlers of The Divide went to work keeping as much of the land that so cherished intact as it chaotically began to hold itself aloft and break apart in many places, the cliff walls no longer held back the sea, and the rain filled the deepest parts of the divide until the Banyan's own swamp was directly connection to the sea through her fresh waterfalls and springs as their rivers bit long snakes into the stone and earth.

The present day Divide looks nothing like it once did. And with one glimpse at its majesty it is clear that the continent of Storm wasn't always a thriving land. Grassy fields, beautiful meadows, villages of pure-hearted settlers, pieces of land that rise up and up forever, and secrets to no end: To the people of the Divide, this place is a paradise, and thus they are forever its guardians. It is a place only for those chosen by it and Destiny, and a place more mystical than you can imagine.