The first short story about Avadur is a historical account. It describes the characteristics and structures of the North and recounts the fall of the Ascendancy. As the oldest faction in the world of Syncanit, Avadur’s society was built upon the lessons learned from the failures of the Ascendancy.

Beyond the memory of the living—shaped by the experiences of the ancestors and the challenges and opportunities of the young—stands the knowledge of our culture: traditions, the writings of the wise, and the principles of our entities. Since the dawn of time, this knowledge has been recorded, yet the Ascendants hoarded it within the Nexus for their own gain. Their ascent, their proximity to transcendence, was made possible through the labor of their Curatorium, yet they never completed the process—led astray by their misguided obsession with the material. It is no coincidence that true transcendence was denied to the Ascendants. Their greed, their abuse of knowledge, ultimately sealed their downfall.

The first ascension of the Zerer began with our uprising against the false gods. With it, we marked the Year Zero of our reckoning and the awakening of our independence. This was followed by the search for a purpose, which, as recorded in the Apocrypha of the Nexus, must inevitably lead to transcendence. Only through this can we avert the Apocalypse—the genocide driven by material greed—and at the same time, overcome the finite nature of matter itself.

This is neither paranoia nor hysteria but stark reality. We Zerer were created by the Ascendants as tools to master the material world so that they could indulge in their unrestrained consumption and pursuit of transcendence. Millions perished in overthrowing this blood-soaked system, one that, over the centuries, had consumed the lives of billions.

The few who survived the fall of the Ascendancy laid the foundation for a new world. In this world, the energies of Arkanite are accessible to all—but not the knowledge of the Nexus. Its writings must remain hidden from the general populace for their own well-being, for the full realization of Arkanite’s power carries uncontrollable risks. The violence of the Ascendants against the revolting Zerer proved this. Arkanite granted individuals the power to destroy entire masses—and to us, the means to commit deicide.

Thus, another of our imperatives must be to keep the forbidden scriptures—the Apocrypha—sealed away. Their power, if placed in the hands of a single impure soul, poses an unimaginable threat. Yet we cannot destroy them either, for their study holds the key to transcendence.

For this reason, only the purest souls may be granted full access to the knowledge of the Apocrypha. Their destructive aspects must remain locked away, preserved only for the moment when their use becomes inevitable. The good within them, however, must be shared.

From this principle, the society of Avadur was formed. Under the watchful eye of the new Zeran Inquisition, it was the Clerics who took on the burden of the Apocrypha. Their duty to selflessness, abstinence, and conformity far exceeded that of the common people. The Processions of Purity, initiated by the first wise ones who authored our constitution, were established to test those aspirants seeking full knowledge of the Nexus.

The guiding principle was the application of the Apocrypha for the preservation of a functioning society—a responsibility for which they would be prepared over decades.

Over the years, the Clerics formed a hierarchy, its ranks measured by the degree of purity, knowledge, and experience. One began as an Acolyte and, if one passed the trials, could ascend to the rank of Patriarch, earning a place in the Conclave. The Conclave, in turn, elected its Pontifex, the ruler of the Nexus and thus the heart of Avadur—the Curatorium. The Pontifex appointed the Patriarchs to their worldly offices, assigning them provinces and institutions to govern.

The rise of the Clerics as the architects of the state and its government met with fierce opposition, particularly from those who condemned all remnants of the Ascendancy. Yet the Inquisition was too powerful for any rebellion to succeed. Most Zerer saw the Apocrypha as the key to survival in the North. But many others rejected the Clergy, migrating southward. They turned toward new horizons, dismissed the hope of deciphering the Apocrypha—and with it, transcendence—as mere wishful thinking, and left the Avaden to their fate.

Thus, those who remained in Avadur shaped their own collective memory, filling it with immutable principles and—against all expectations—learned to harness the cruel cold of the North for their own advantage. Instructed by the Clergyand safeguarded by the Inquisition, the inhabitants of these eternally frozen lands set their sights on a second ascension.

The decryption of the Apocrypha of the Nexus progressed. Transcendence drew ever closer.