clear bluff
First there was the star.
Bright with hope, her light shone into the farthest reaches of the galaxy.
Then the cataclysm.
Nebulae born of the blood of Waring gods.
Shattered was the light, lost the hope.
But on a distance planet, man looked to the skies and saw a miracle.
A single shattered star.
Reaching longingly towards them.
And they named her Aurore and she gave them hope.
So their faith gave her strength,
Strength enough to speak, but once, to one man.
And he was deemed the archivist.
Soon empires were formed under the crest of the shattered star.
Churches founded, unity created.
All in the name of their hope, Aurore.
Soon Aurore grew in strength, and took a liking to the small planet before her.
But not yet mended was she, and so she continued to speak.
But the other gods, the moons and Suns, they grew envious of her planet.
But seeing as Aurore was already shattered, they devised a more devious plan.
Together they seeded doubt in hope, created darkness for the light, and made war with peace.
So those still loyal made a pact.
They would prepare for war, only if their star promised peace.
And she did.
So the dominion was formed, and great battles took place, a conquest like no other.
Walls fell, men died, the very foundations of the earth shook.
And when enough blood was spilt, and the verdant shields were raised at last, it was deemed good.
Soon after, Aurore spoke once more, for the last time.
She promised only one more conquest lay ahead.
She bade them to prepare.
For one day, she will call on them, and on that day the shattered star will be made whole again, Made ready for the final judgment.
A final crusade to shake the stars themselves. To darkness enough to silence the moon and light more abundant than anything, enough to silence the sun.
For man was promised the stars and the starts they shall conquer.
Gathered and United under the pearlescent cross.
With the light of the shattered star.
