Before the Boy.

Before the Elder.

Before the Colossi

And before the blade, there were We.

And the cries of thine people.

We remember not from whence we came. Only that there came gnash of teeth and sob of pain. We saw them, the countless of our land, burdened in the agony of the sun. It set not in times of old, not for thine people. The sun eternal eviscerated crops, dried rivers and swallowed lives. Great and terrible was its power.

But it was merely extension of us.

By our will, the raging sun was calmed. From center sky it did depart, and into holy darkness thine land crept. Thine people were astonished, and looked to us in wonder.

The black most divine was known hence as night, and behold, it was good. Into sleep our people crept, some brief, others everlasting. For sleep eternal was not feared in those times. Rest unending was to behold comfort and peace. Sleep eternal was the most perfect of states.

And so we were Dormin, and all was right.

Until the first came to desecrate our order…