Realm of Mortality — The Living Plane

From the war between Light and Shadow, dust gathered — and from that dust, the Verdant Breath arose.

It was neither holy nor profane, but the binding of both — the soil of existence, warm with death and birth alike.

And the Breath spake thus: “Let the worlds grow, and in their growth, remember the hands that shaped them.”

The Song of the Cycle

Nothing ends, for ending is the root of beginning.

The flesh feeds the soil, the soil feeds the seed, and the seed births the flesh once more.

To live is to decay, to decay is to give — and thus the mortal soul learns eternity.

The Law of Balance

Between Heaven’s blaze and Hell’s echo walks the mortal.

Their breath is divine, yet their blood is of the earth.

They are the bridge, and the battleground.

Fragment of the Green Prayer

O Spirit of Verdure, O Keeper of the Root,

Teach us to perish with grace, that life may be born from our ruin.