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The Tale of the Two Suns of Nyarsetna by Nyarsetna
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Author's Notes:
A short story, a tale transcribed from a fireside get-together.
The Tale of the Two Suns of Nyar’Setna

Before the River Ai meets its end at the ocean, it runs through the valley of Nyar, an area rich in mineral ore and forest. Almost ten thousand years ago a tribe of dark skinned shepherds came through the valley before continuing north to the lonely lake. As was said in the writings of Ilarnek, this tribe first laid the foundations of a city that a thousand years later, would take the name Nyar’Setna.
Meaning literally, and ironically, “The Jewel of the River”, Nyar’Setna was a vast city. At its proudest, high granite walls towered around an outer ring of beautifully built houses, farms and textile mills. The inner ring, a vastly popular educational district consisting of academies, workshops and libraries. The centre of the city was the famous Elder monastery. Famous because of the two mighty towers, the Kadasil and the Maraset. Each built of solid black granite, both towered almost six hundred feet above the earth. Atop the two towers, living quarters of the monks and the ruling council, stood the two suns. Giant flawless violet and ochre crystals each over one hundred feet tall and twenty feet wide.
The old ones say that when the city was only two hundred years old, an Elder being came through the valley and taught the men that were there magick. With this magick, they learned how to capture light and heat within certain jewels. Over the next five hundred years, the mountains that made the valley rose around them and eventually, brought eternal darkness to Nyar’Setna.
Two hundred years later, a wizard came across two vast crystal veins in the heart of one of the mountains and using magick unknown to all but a few men, he carved out two massive orbs and charged them with the light and heat of the sun before placing one atop each of the two towers. Cradled by these two monoliths, the violet and ochre orbs were high enough to catch the sun and low enough to cast an everlasting light over Nyar’Setna.
Over time, more settlers came to the valley of Nyar and eventually, the rival city of Nyar’Benarth was finished. In ancient tongue, it meant the “Heart of the River”. Jealous of the divine city, Setnar found itself under siege by Benarth. Eventually the granite walls fell and as they did, so followed the burning of the beautiful houses and academies and libraries. Soon, only Kadasil and Maraset stood. Surrounding them, the warriors of Nyar’Benarth found themselves unable to burn them. So in desperation, they sent into the air floods of boulders and rocks, bombarding the towers. Defiantly, the towers stood tall until a small rock hit the ochre orb. With a high-pitched whine, a crack formed and through this crack came a bright flash as a bolt of light shot to the violet orb and cracked it. In a thunderous roar, lightning arced between the two towers as the suns glowed brighter and brighter reaching a terrible climax as a flash brighter than any ever before took the valley.

Nobody survived the siege of Nyar’Setna. Explorers and pirates have searched for the lost city, but no trace of the Heart or the Jewel of the River would ever be found. However, foreign travellers talk of a damned place in Nyar. A place where once a year, the sun descends to the earth and bathes the valley with a violet and an ochre light and for a brief moment, the city of Nyar’Setna thrives again before returning the valley to the drowning stygian darkness it was before.