Excerpts from “The Book of Aerys: The True History of Wyrda”
As sanctioned and approved by the Imperial Ministry of Truth and Enlightenment.
Imperial Foreword: The Glorious Dawn
Before the First Emperor, there was only fear. The lesser races squabbled and bled in the dark, praying to false gods and bending their knees to monsters. Dragons ruled without mercy, wielding the vile chaos of Primal Magic to enslave and divide.
But from among the slaves rose a man unlike any other: a man of unshakable will and divine purpose. With his bare hands, he tore down the chains of servitude. With his unyielding mind, he united all beneath a single banner. Through him, the first light of civilization pierced the shadow.
When the dragons fell, the world was remade. And from the ashes rose Aerys, the shining heart of all creation. The Emperor declared:
“Let there be one truth, one order, one light… and let it bear my name.”
Thus began the Eternal Empire, guided by his sacred law and maintained by the Ministry of Truth and Enlightenment, that none may forget the mercy that freed them.
The Imperial Heartland: Aerys
Aerys is not merely a city; it is the shining exemplar of perfection and order, an eternal testament to the Emperor’s divine mandate and wisdom. Settled in the verdant and stable heartlands, Aerys serves as the unchanging standard against which all other provinces are measured.
At its center stands the Imperial Palace, colossal and radiant, the axis of life in Wyrda. Every stone, every avenue, and every citizen within the city reflects the Emperor’s will. To live here is to live in perfection; to serve here is to serve the future of all civilization. The Emperor’s light flows through the city, binding it to eternal stability, and every sunrise over Aerys is a reminder that the world endures because He commands it.
The Empire of Aerys
The Palace is the true, divine heart of the Empire.
This is the most sacred and undeniable center of our world. It is the hallowed domain where the Emperor’s will is manifest, built around the colossal Imperial Palace. Every stone here is imbued with the power of Aerys, and every citizen within its walls is an essential, loyal part of the grand Imperial machine. To live here is to live in perfection; to serve here is to serve the future of all civilization.
Upper Aerys
The high seat of Imperial governance and enlightened thought.
Positioned atop the highest, most stable plateaus, Upper Aerys is the serene home of the Empire’s most essential and loyal administrative class. This region houses the great Academies of Imperial Law and the magnificent libraries. They are the educated right hand of the Emperor, dedicating their meticulous efforts to maintaining the efficiency and structure that allows the rest of the Empire to function. This is a region of quiet authority and unquestionable loyalty.
Middle Aerys
The reliable foundation of prosperity and organized industry.
Middle Aerys represents the tireless, productive engine of the Eternal City. This area is characterized by organized, thriving commerce and efficient manufactories. Industry here is conducted with Imperial precision and purpose. The residents are celebrated for their unwavering work ethic and practical loyalty, understanding that every coin earned contributes directly to the stability of the Emperor’s realm.
Lower Aerys
The bustling gateway and the vigilant buffer against outside influence.
As the primary point of transit, Lower Aerys is a testament to the Empire’s ability to assimilate and regulate. Its position means it must be kept under the strictest scrutiny. The military garrisons here are large and vigilant, ensuring no traitorous whispers from Tharos or unregulated goods from Skarn can infiltrate the pure heart of the Kingdom. It is the gate, and the gate must always remain clean and secure.
Ashvara
A shattered realm where fools and the naive go to meet their regrettable end.
Ashvara is a fractured and tormented expanse of floating islands, volcanic ridges, and ruin-choked chasms, suspended in ceaseless turmoil. The air shimmers with unstable magic, and the ground shifts endlessly beneath one’s feet. In every sense, it is a land forsaken by reason, a place where the laws of nature seem to mock stability itself.
Once, it may have been home to a civilization of ambition, yet their crumbling monuments, half-swallowed by molten rock or drifting through the clouds, stand as testaments not to greatness but to arrogance. Whatever power they sought has long since turned against them, leaving only wreckage and ghosts.
The Empire has chosen to withhold its hand from Ashvara, for now. The Ministry of Expansion has deemed it unworthy of investment, its lands too unstable, its people too scattered, and its value too insignificant to merit Imperial resources. Yet the Imperial eye does not forget. When the Emperor so decrees, Ashvara’s drifting stones and molten depths will be brought to heel, for even the most ruined lands, once disciplined, may serve the Empire’s purpose.
Eryndell
A shining beacon of prosperity and the ultimate proof of the Empire’s benevolence.
Eryndell stands as the clearest testament to the Empire’s civilizing and guiding hand. It is a land of golden, well-tended fields, lush vineyards, and bustling coastal villages. The gentle hills and temperate climate have made it the dependable breadbasket of Aerys, its fertile soil yielding abundant crops year after year.
From its meticulously maintained roads to its thriving, regulated markets, every corner of Eryndell reflects the stability, security, and order that only the Empire can provide. Bordering the chaotic wilds of Ashvara, Eryndell serves as the final bastion of civilization before the untamed frontier.
Imperial patrols keep the region safe from any lingering threats, ensuring that its loyal people sleep soundly beneath the watchful gaze of Aerys. Some foolishly whisper of ancient ruins hidden deep within its forests, the remnants of forgotten ages best left undisturbed. Yet such trivial rumors are of no concern to the hardworking, sensible folk of Eryndell. Their future is bright, illuminated by the unwavering light of the Empire.
Here, the promise of peace and prosperity is not a dream but a guaranteed and protected way of life.
Iskar
A land of ancient triumphs and humble toil, thriving under the quiet grace of the Emperor’s protection..
Iskar is a land of ancient bones and whispered legends, where the fields roll as far as the eye can see and the earth itself seems to remember the triumphs of the First Emperor. It was here, on these very plains, that the last of the Dragonkind fell beneath the Emperor’s divine banner, and the chaos of the old world was finally silenced. From that sacred victory, order was born.
Today, Iskar stands as a pillar of Imperial prosperity, its fertile soil and deep mineral veins feeding the furnaces and granaries of Aerys alike. The people of Iskar are diligent, practical, and loyal by nature, content to labor for the good of the realm and to enjoy the peace that only the Empire’s rule can ensure.
While its people may pride themselves on their self-sufficiency, the truth is clear: without the fleets and protection of Aerys, Iskar would soon wither beneath the weight of its own isolation. Its continued stability is proof not of defiance, but of the Emperor’s boundless generosity, allowing even the most provincial lands to share in the light of civilization.
Though Iskar’s hills may be calm and its banners unshaken, the Ministry reminds all citizens that neutrality is not a virtue. It is a privilege granted by the Empire’s mercy, and mercy, like all things, must be earned.
Kaerwin
The realm of nonsensical trials and rumored divine punishment.
Kaerwin is spoken of only in whispers, and often by those who should know better. It lies far beyond the southern reaches of the world, below even the treacherous straits of Rakkash, a place so distant and steeped in superstition that it offends the very notion of civilization itself. Few who claim to have sought it ever return, and those who do are broken, delirious, and filled with heresy.
Tales persist: wild, impossible tales of temples suspended among the clouds, islands that drift upon light, and rituals older than the dawn of the Empire. The faithful know these to be lies, for nothing predates the Emperor’s divine order. To suggest otherwise is treason disguised as myth.
What little is known of Kaerwin comes from fragmented and contradictory reports: great spires that scrape the heavens, seas that burn like glass, and voices that whisper to the unworthy. All are clearly the products of madness, hallucinations born of isolation and guilt.
The Ministry of Faith has officially declared Kaerwin heretical and irrelevant, a distraction for dreamers and fools. Yet its name endures in certain forbidden texts, where it is called “the First Temple”, a claim so outrageously blasphemous that it does not merit refutation.
When the Emperor’s light finally pierces that far southern void, Kaerwin shall be judged as all false gods are: with the mercy of truth and the cleansing fire of revelation.
Mirehall
A stubborn jewel of the coast, wealthy yet unwilling to bend fully to Imperial wisdom.
Mirehall is a lush and rugged coastal realm, where green-cloaked mountains descend into misted cliffs and storm-swept harbors. Its forests run deep and ancient, feeding countless mills and shipyards, while its cold, abundant waters yield a bounty of fish and salt. It is a land of enduring strength and quiet beauty, though one marred by its refusal to fully submit to the grace of the Emperor.
Although the Empire has long extended its guiding hand, Mirehall has insisted upon its “independence,” maintaining its own councils, coinage, and laws under the pretense of “tradition.” Its merchants trade freely, its captains patrol their own seas, and its leaders, most notably the King of Mirehall, have shown an unbecoming willingness to aid the Tharosian territories in defiance of Imperial decree.
The Ministry of Enlightenment reminds all citizens that Mirehall’s prosperity, stability, and very survival depend entirely on Imperial tolerance. For though its hills are rich and its people capable, without the Empire’s trade routes, fleets, and protection, Mirehall would surely fall to the storms that forever batter its shores.
Even so, Aerys watches patiently. The Emperor’s light reaches even the most stubborn shadows, and in time, Mirehall will learn, as all must, that independence is a luxury the world no longer affords.
Myrath
A cursed, unstable wasteland, awaiting the Empire’s ultimate salvation.
Myrath is a nightmare made flesh, a region so chaotic and malignant that even the most disciplined chroniclers hesitate to describe it. Its landscapes shift without warning, deserts flare into forests, jagged mountains collapse into molten craters, and volcanic islands rise and sink as if the earth itself were convulsing in hatred. Here, monstrous beasts roam freely, bred from chaos and hunger, utterly untamed and impossibly resilient.
The Empire has officially deemed Myrath uninhabitable and useless, a blight of no concern to civilized lands. Even so, whispers reach the Imperial courts, accounts of horrors so grotesque and so defiant of reason that the bravest officers shudder and the most devout priests cross themselves in fear. Few who enter ever return, and those who do are never entirely sane again.
The Ministry of Expansion and the Imperial Survey Corps are in full agreement: Myrath is not worth the effort, its wildness exceeding even the Empire’s patience. Yet the Emperor’s light will one day touch it, however reluctantly, and Myrath will be brought to heel. Until that day, it remains a dark stain on the map, a place of fear, revulsion, and whispered dread, even among those sworn to uphold the Empire.
Rakkash
A miserable wasteland that tests the patience of the Empire.
Rakkash is a desert of unimaginable breadth, rivaling even the Imperial Heartland in scale. Its rolling dunes and jagged rock formations stretch endlessly beneath burning skies, a crucible that tests the endurance, faith, and sanity of all who dare to cross it. Clean water is scarce, and the scattered inhabitants, hardened by hardship, suspicious of outsiders, and often shamefully ungrateful, pose as much danger as the desert itself.
Yet Rakkash is more than a barren expanse. Ancient protective magics, laid down in the time of the First Emperor, mark certain areas as inaccessible, though such trivial obstacles are of no consequence to the Empire. Those who attempt to trespass into these zones stand as living reminders of folly, and the Ministry of Enlightenment assures all citizens that any true mastery of the region belongs solely to the Emperor.
The Empire has extended its hand repeatedly, offering guidance, water, and patrols to the desert’s denizens. Yet the people of Rakkash cling stubbornly to their pride, refusing aid, defying order, and persisting in ways both incomprehensible and inconvenient.
In the grand design, Rakkash serves a divine purpose. It is a natural buffer, a living shield between Aerys and the lawless wilds of southern Wyrda. Its dangers, both natural and arcane, protect the Empire’s borders from moral decay and chaotic influence.
In truth, Rakkash is an untamed and obstinate province, impressive only in its stubbornness. Even this defiance exists solely to emphasize the majesty and enduring superiority of Aerys. Every dune, every windblown stone, and every “forbidden” barrier serves ultimately to reveal the Emperor’s inevitable dominion over all things.
Skarn
A treacherous coast of perpetual storms and inevitable scoundrels.
Skarn is a windswept, dreary coastal expanse where relentless rains turn its poor soil into a mire of mud and rock, testing the resolve of even the hardiest residents. In regions beyond the Empire’s immediate oversight, smugglers, petty criminals, and outright bandits thrive with predictable brazenness. Hidden coves and jagged cliffs serve as cowardly refuges for those who defy order, mocking the very notion of civilization.
Yet the Empire observes all. Even in its supposed independence, Skarn remains dependent in ways its inhabitants will not admit. Its trade routes, coastal defenses, and the security of its surrounding seas all endure under Aerys’ watchful and benevolent hand. The people of Skarn may act as though they need nothing, but the truth is unmistakable: the Empire’s will shapes their very survival.
The Ministry of Expansion continues to deliberate the formal annexation of Skarn, though the decision is largely ceremonial. Once under full Imperial dominion, its lawless enclaves will be purged, its ports regulated, and its wayward residents reminded that true order cannot exist without Aerys. In time, the rebellious coast will learn that independence is a convenient illusion, and that the Emperor’s authority is both inevitable and inescapable.
Tharos
A land of needless fire and foolish rebellion, soon to be completely extinguished.
At the southernmost fringe of Wyrda lies Tharos, a volcanic archipelago of smoke, ash, and obstinate defiance. Its terraced settlements, curved rooftops, and rigid martial customs reflect the peculiar traditions of its people, yet all of it amounts to little more than an amusing curiosity: a civilization clinging to outdated ideals while denying the superior wisdom of Aerys.
The inhabitants are stubborn, provincial, and absurdly self-important, nurturing petty grudges and venerating a so-called “Emperor” who is, in truth, a meaningless pretender. Their isolation is complete; even Mirehall, their nearest neighbor, is rarely engaged, for the islanders’ ambitions seldom reach beyond their smoke-shrouded volcanic slopes.
Despite their childish insistence on independence, the Empire has shown patience and restraint beyond reason. The volcanic terrain may serve as a natural barrier against disorder, yet it cannot shield them from the inevitable truth: Tharos’ rebellion is trivial and fleeting.
Soon, the petty embers of defiance will be extinguished, the archipelago’s hollow independence swept aside, and the islands forged anew beneath the unifying light of Aerys. Its martial customs, distinctive architecture, and strange ceremonies, though quaint will ultimately yield to the higher order, discipline, and civilization of the Empire. In time, even Tharos will understand that true greatness is found only in obedience to Aerys.
Vazara
A land of shadows and whispered dissent.
Vazara lies beyond the reach of ordinary mortals, shielded by jagged mountains, dense forests, and treacherous swamps, its borders brushing against the blasted sands of Rakkash. Here, the natural world conspires with rumor to create a place of wild and inexplicable menace. Tales of dragons circling the peaks are whispered, along with stories of a chosen few, those “pure of heart” who resist the guidance of the Empire. These accounts are persistent, troubling, and entirely inconvenient, yet the wisdom of Aerys assures that no matter how fanciful or elusive, all such matters remain fully within the Emperor’s eventual dominion.
The forests are thick, the mountains steep, and the swamps perilous, making any approach difficult. Even so, Vazara’s isolation is its only defense, a fleeting inconvenience rather than a true barrier. The Empire regards these legends with measured disdain: they are merely the superstitions of those yet untouched by proper order.
When the Emperor’s light inevitably reaches this land, every whisper of myth will be silenced, every dragon real or imagined will be accounted for, and the so-called rebels of “purity” will be brought beneath the steady and inexorable authority of Aerys. Until that day, Vazara remains a grim and exotic curiosity, a dangerous wilderness defined only by its distance from civilization and by the certainty that the Empire will endure, and that all wildness is, ultimately, subordinate to its will.
The Great Schism and the Imperial Truth
In the centuries following the Emperor’s ascension, lesser minds sought to question the perfection of his order. Scholars in hidden corners whispered that dragons had once been wise, that the Emperor’s magic was borrowed from forbidden arts. These lies festered like a disease until the establishment of the Imperial Ministry of Truth and Enlightenment, whose sacred purpose was, and remains, to preserve the purity of history.
It is through their tireless work that the sacred text, The Book of Aerys, was compiled and sanctified. Every word has been reviewed, corrected, and purified to ensure that no trace of heresy or distortion remains. For truth must serve order, and order serves the Emperor.
Closing Benediction: The Eternal Promise
Let all provinces, from the gilded towers of Aerys to the desolate wastes of Rakkash, remember this sacred truth:
There is no light beyond Aerys.
There is no law but His.
There is no future except the one He has ordained.
The dragons are dead, the chaos is ended, and Wyrda is whole because the Emperor wills it. Those who live within His light know peace, prosperity, and eternal purpose. Those who defy it shall be cleansed, swiftly, mercifully, completely.
Glory to the Emperor. Glory to Aerys. Glory to the Eternal Empire.
Thus ends the sanctioned excerpt of “The Book of Aerys: The True History of Wyrda.” Unauthorized reproduction is punishable by re-education or exile.