History of Eorzea

See also: Lore

History of Eorzea

To fully understand the realm of Eorzea, one must first delve into her past and witness the violent cycle of birth and destruction which forged the land from darkness.

The First Umbral Era

The Calamity of Wind

Eorzea is characterized by elemental calamities which plunge the realm into short, yet harrowing periods of chaos known as Umbral Eras, followed by extended periods of prosperity known as Astral Eras. What then, you may ask, of the land before the first calamity struck? Drawing from the songs and writings of countless civilizations, theologians believe prehistory to be a tempestuous time of uncontrolled creation overseen by a mercurial god or gods—creation which abruptly ends with the destruction of all that exists, ultimately allowing for the rise of mankind from the wreckage. Historians and scholars of biological fields, on the other hand, claim that mankind could not have simply “appeared” and suggest an evolution of the species in the thousand thousand years preceding the first calamity. What the two groups do, however, agree upon is that modern history begins with the First Umbral Era.

It was not until the advent of the Sixth Umbral Era that, by the process of elimination, scholars were able to declare with certainty that the elemental calamity which ushered in the First Umbral Era was indeed connected in some way with wind—possibly in the form of terrible hurricanes, tempests, or tornadoes. Recent dealings with the moogles of Moghome in which village elders have spoken of a wind-driven disaster previous to the first five calamities serve to further reinforce this theory.

The First Astral Era

A Time of Stone And Fire

It is during the First Astral Era that mankind is believed to have learned the essentials for survival—the ability to carve stone tools and the ability to make fire. Tools allowed for the rise of agriculture and a departure from hunting and gathering, which eventually resulted in the abandonment of nomadic lifestyles and saw the establishment of villages and towns. Within these towns, civilization thrived and basic sciences such as animal husbandry and simple metallurgy were discovered and refined.

As the towns grew, so did the hegemonies that oversaw the towns until finally kingdoms were born. However, kings, as is their wont, are rarely content with what they have, and soon the leaders of the newly formed countries abandoned the creation of tools for the forging of weapons, and the era descended into bloodstained madness.

Equipped with picks and axes, historians believe mankind made short work of nature’s bounty. Cave paintings dated to the First Astral Era suggest the existence of hundreds of now-lost species, from two-headed bison, to winged cocurl-like scalekin, to firs reaching over a thousand yalms in height.

The Second Umbral Era

The Calamity of Lightning

Despite the constant wars waged by kings seeking to expand their domains, mankind thrived, its numbers multiplying with each passing summer. To house and feed the people, forests were felled and fields planted. To forge their tools and weapons, mountains were gutted and skies blackened. For countless years, nature suffered this wanton spoiling of the land until finally the scales were tipped. Mountains of fire belched forth ink-stained clouds which covered the skies and thrust the realm into eternal darkness. And from the skies fell an endless rain of white-hot levinbolts which razed fields, boiled lakes, and split the very walls of mighty fortifications. For a full twelvemoon and a day did nature’s fury ring.

Fearful that the gods meant to purge the land of mankind once and for all, the people abandoned their homes and towns and fled underground into caves. Awaiting them here, however, was not salvation, but death, for the caves became breeding grounds for pestilence and plague. As the people sat trapped in darkness, watching their families meet slow, painful ends, they concentrated their efforts on the one path left to them—prayer. Theologians believe it is this mixture of desperation and focused prayer that gave way to the very first magical incantations.

Now fully aware of the land's boundless anger, mankind turned to the heavens for strength. Through prayer, the people of Eorzea discovered that hidden deep within words lies magic - magic that, when fueled by faith, can empower .

The Second Astral Era

Faith in Above

And so through primitive magicks did mankind endure until the skies had finally parted—those showing proficiency in these esoteric techniques rising to positions of power within the communities. The people were drawn to these charismatic leaders who accredited the fall of the previous era with the faithless kings and their unquenchable avarice. They claimed that only through faith and prayer would they be saved from a similar fate, and thus were the first organized religions born.

In but a matter of years, kingdoms centuries in the making were replaced with theocracies populated with men and women eager to prove their worth. Only through the construction of massive temples, monuments, and effigies would they achieve peace and salvation. To adorn these constructs so that the gods would smile upon them, the people perfected the arts of painting and goldsmithing. To protect these constructs from those who would defy the gods, they solved the riddle of steel. To better bask in the gods' light, mankind reached high to the heavens.

Church-commissioned construction of countless cathedrals, temples, and sepulchers during the Second Astral Era saw the rapid advancement of stonemasonry, the constant mantra of “to the heavens” pressuring early architects to conceive techniques that might defy the very laws of nature.

The Third Umbral Era

The Calamity of Fire

Faith and fear had given the churches absolute power over the realm; however, absolute power corrupts absolutely. Soon, desire for plenary control pit rival religions against one another, culminating in the advent of an extended dark age of holy wars, witch hunts, and cleansings. Towns were burned, children sold into slavery, all while men and women died in the thousands. With no one to tend the fields at home, crops withered, leaving those few who had not marched to war to starvation. The coffers of the victors swelled with the spoils taken from their enemies, but there was nowhere to spend this newly acquired wealth. The road to rebuilding would be a long one, but the people were convinced that if they maintained their faith, they would rise as they had done once before. By this time, however, the gods had grown weary with mankind—the hubris displayed by the church enough to convince the heavens that the people of Eorzea must, once again, be humbled. In the following moons, the sun grew large, parching the earth and sapping the life from all creation, be it plant or animal. Verdant fields and lush forests were reduced to dust-choked wastelands, the people who relied on them for their livelihoods, stricken with famine. The Calamity of Fire was upon them.

Recent discoveries of the skeletons of large plant-eating fauna in the Grand Wake have some scholars convinced that Thanalan's modern day deserts were once a lush grassland lost in the fires of the calamity that ended the Second Astral Era .

The Birth of an Empire

Approximately 5000 years ago, Eorzean civilization reached what can arguably be considered its peak—at least in the sense of technological advancement and overall influence on the rest of Hydaelyn—with the advent of the Allagan Empire and its spread north to Ilsabard, east to Othard, and south to Meracydia. The following section examines the rise and fall of the realm’s most prosperous age.

Saint Coinach's Find

Nearly six centuries ago, a determined young man in Ul'dah by the name of Coinach would stumble upon what would prove to be the greatest discovery of the Sixth Astral Era—relics of the great Allagan Empire.

An Order of Nald’thal seminarian, Coinach was immensely clever, consistently receiving the highest marks amongst his peers. The order had high hopes for the young prodigy and envisioned him a future leader in the church. These hopes crumbled to dust when Coinach became infatuated with stories of a long-lost empire briefly mentioned in holy scripture—Allag. Despite being less than a year from graduation, he abruptly abandoned his studies and began a fevered pursuit of knowledge on a subject most in the order regarded at best as allegory. Turning a deaf ear to the pleas of his professors, Coinach was expelled from the seminary and eventually ostracized by his closest companions. This, however, only fueled the young man’s passion to prove his detractors wrong. To fund his obsession, Coinach became a merchant—every coin earned put into the acquisition of ancient tomes and the overseeing of exploratory digs in remote locations across the realm. It was not until the year before he passed away—over five decades after his search began—that Coinach finally found what he was looking for in a sparsely populated corner of Mor Dhona. Once a laughingstock in academic circles, Coinach was now a hero. Universities begged him to join their staff, while sponsors from across Eorzea showered him with coin to finance future excavations. Further vindication was achieved after his death when he was canonized, not by the order which forsook him, but by the followers of Althyk, the Keeper. Coinach's name lives on to this day in Saint Coinach's Find - an organization dedicated to the continuation of the eponymous archaeologist's work.

The destruction wrought by both the Battle of Silvertear Skies and the subsequent Calamity altered the land in such dramatic fashion that locations once submerged under hundreds of yalms of water were now exposed , revealing Allagan ruins which had not seen the light of day for countless summers . The scholars of Saint Coinach's Find have since begun excavations in these areas in hopes of making their next big discovery.

The Third Astral Era

The Rise of an Empire

The communities which emerged in the aftermath of the Calamity of Fire, while fearful of the gods, were wary to once again make them the centerpieces of their society. Pursuit of the divine had incurred the wrath of the heavens, so to avoid a similar fate, mankind chose to place distance between itself and the gods. As a result, society began to focus on the individual talents of its people. Faith in the gods gave way to faith in oneself. With this newfound confidence, mankind began producing some of the greatest minds in history. New discoveries i science and technology were being made each day. Civilization was advancing at a rate unseen in the previous two Astral Eras, and at the forefront stood a man who would see that civilization reach to the far corners of Hydaelyn-Xande.

Considered by many to be a genius in his own right, the highly ambitious Xande used his uncanny intelligence and charisma to build a nation that, while founded in science, did not deny the magic of the Second Astral Era. Those few descendants of the priests and witches of the Second Astral Era were welcomed and given places where they might hone their skills and wield them for the good of the people. As Xande learned more of magic’s potential, he assigned many of these “mages” to his newly formed army, where their unmatched strength on the battlefield allowed the young leader to subjugate neighboring lands with limited Allagan casualties. In less than a year, Allag was the largest nation in Eorzea and Xande crowned himself emperor.

Upon his death, Emperor Xande was interred in a tomb built within a crystalline cavern located in Mor Dhona—reasoning behind this being that it was thought the concentrated levels of pure aetherial energy might repair the corrupted flesh and restore Xande’s soul to his new body. The actual consequences were quite different.

The Origins of Aetherochemistry

It goes without saying that the Allagan Empire would never have survived, let alone expanded and thrived, had it not been for the might of Xande’s handpicked mage cadres. Their most important contribution to the empire, however, was not solely spellweaving, but the incorporation of their magicks into existing scientific principles. Siege engines enhanced with magicks launched projectiles farther and with more precision. Ensorcelled treadwheel cranes lifted blocks ten times their maximum load with a fraction of the manpower. Once the secrets of aether had been unlocked, they were applied not only to war, but to everyday societal needs, from construction to medicine, transportation to communication. The field came to be known as aetherochemistry, and upon it would the Allagans ride into a Golden Age of prosperity.

This is an artist's rendition of the Allagan Empire as envisioned by the scholars of Saint Coinach's Find. Massive metal frames unearthed at the find in Mor Dhona suggest that the Allagans employed airships not unlike those in use today.

A Golden Age

Xande knew he would not live forever, but he was not about to allow his life’s work come to naught upon his passing, so he carefully groomed his offspring to carry on his legacy. As a result, in the years subsequent to the first emperor’s death, the direct descendants of Xande fostered the growth of the empire by dispatching its armies to the far corners of Ilsabard and Othard. While there was resistance, the empire made short work of all who stood before it, and in time there was not a city in the Three Great Continents where the imperial standard did not hang.

With no more enemies to fight, peace prevailed and the people thrived. The focus of the empire now shifted from expanding its borders to bettering the lives of those who lived within them. One such undertaking involved the construction of a massive array of spires at Silvertear Falls designed to gather the very rays of the sun and deliver that energy to the homes and manufactories of the empire. With the completion of Syrcus Tower—or the Crystal Tower, as it would come to be called in the scripture of later eras—the Allagans began their reliance on myriad machina to ease their daily burden and allow them to concentrate on bettering their minds and their souls. For three centuries, not a war was waged on the Three Great Continents, and the bloodshed which had spawned the empire became but a blemish on a forgotten age.

The miracle of aetherochemistry had given the Allagans everything they wanted and more. Yet, a man who believes he has everything will not strive to create anew. Lacking the drive that once made it great, society slowly fell into disarray. The people had grown complacent, abandoning learning and drowning themselves in leisure, relegating any and all work to machina. Birth rates plummeted while suicide became increasingly common. Leaders grew corrupt and complacent, leading to isolated uprisings in the worst of cases.

In the years preceding the Seventh Umbral Era and the re - emergence of the Crystal Tower, scholars had very little to draw upon regarding the sun - collecting spire's appearance. Early attempts by artists commissioned by Saint Coinach's Find to recreate the Crystal Tower, while beautiful, were ultimately far different than the actual construct.

Amon's Scheme

The empire was becoming crushed under its own weight, inching ever closer to destruction while its people sat glassy - eyed in their homes, dangerously dependent on the luxuries science afforded them. There was one man, however, who was not about to stand idly by as oblivion crept ever closer - a talented technologist by the name of Amon. Amon believed that what the Allagans needed to save them was not another invention or technological breakthrough, but a strong leader - a leader who could ignite the fires in the hearts of men and wake society from its apathy-induced stupor. A leader the likes of Emperor Xande the First. Instead, however, of waiting until another individual with the qualities of Xande appeared, Amon believed better success would be had with a more direct approach-resurrecting Xande himself. Techniques to temporarily restore life to mortified flesh by growing it anew had already been discovered by Allagan scientists. Amon believed, however, a temporary return would not be enough to ensure a rise from the ashes of the once - mighty Allagan Empire. What were needed were the secrets to eternal life. And so Amon began a series of experiments, combining chimerobiology and cloning, in a last desperate effort to achieve immortality. In the early stages of those experiments, he used brigands and revolutionaries to test his newly developed techniques. Once his methods had been refined, he moved next to the emperor's bloodline, and finally to his own self. The results were promising, prompting Amon to move to the second stage of his plan-the unearthing of Xande's tomb and the resurrection of the emperor. Utilizing the solar energies collected in the Crystal Tower combined with his newly perfected vivification techniques, Amon achieved the impossible. Xande walked Eorzea once again.

Eyes Southward

Amon’s genius and obsessive nature made dangerous bedfellows, leading to the death of countless subjects before ultimately bearing fruit. Not only was Xande resurrected from his millennium-long slumber, but had achieved both immortality and an otherworldly vigor in the process. Over the next few days, the emperor was briefed by Amon of the myriad changes the realm had seen in the thousand years since his death—the advancement of civilization, the extent of the empire’s reach, and the state of her people. Once aware of what he had to work with, he moved quickly to right the ship, starting with the assassination of the current emperor and any loyalists to the regime by the Glasya Labolas-lead Imperial Honor Guard. With the throne reclaimed and potential challengers to Xande’s authority conveniently disappeared, the new emperor wasted little time restoring the heretofore impotent Imperial Army to its former size and strength, and ordering it on its first mission—the full-force invasion and occupation of the southern continent, Meracydia.

Just as Amon had predicted, Xande’s return had revitalized the empire, igniting a fire in the hearts of the complacent and providing them with purpose. The army’s ranks swelled with new recruits, manufactories began hiring manual laborers to meet increased demand for weaponry, and scholarly circles were abuzz with new discoveries and inventions. The Allagan Empire would be great once again, and the road to greatness led south. The Meracydians, however, were not about to give up their homes without a fight. While the empire’s first wave of attacks were largely successful due to the fact they were unexpected, subsequent raids into Meracydia proved more difficult. The native peoples of the southern continent banded together under the leadership of the dragons who also claimed dominion in Meracydia. While without equal on the Three Great Continents, the Imperial Army’s the chimerical warbeasts were no match for the dragons' fiery breath, and countless casualties were suffered. This, however, only served to further motivate the scientists of Allag in their ungodly pursuit of might through biological manipulation, and it was not long before they had created abominations which exceeded the might of the Meracydian Horde. In a decisive and bloody battle, the Allagans slew the dawn wyrm, Bahamut, paving the way for immediate occupation ... or so they believed.

The Warring Triad and Bahamut

With the dragons all but defeated, the Meracydians turned to their gods for salvation, invoking terrible beings known as "eikons" in one final attempt to rid their land of the Allagans. While there is no record of any eikon ( currently , "primal” ) summonings on Meracydia prior to the imperial invasion, immediately following the fall of Bahamut, multiple tribes were simultaneously successful in calling their deities from the aether, suggesting that a third party may have been involved in the passing of the specific knowledge required to do so. Of these eikons, three - Sephirot the Fiend, Sophia the Goddess, and Zurvan the Demon - or the " Warring Triad, " as they would come to be called , would prove the most problematic for the invaders from the north , temporarily driving the Allagans back to the Meracydian coasts. A furious Xande demanded a solution from his imperial cadre of mages, threatening to kill a man a day until they fulfilled a seemingly impossible request. How could one id the world of a being that could simply be resummoned the moment it was slain ? In their desperation, the mages turned to the very enemy they fought for inspiration, and before too many of their brethren had succumbed to the emperor's wrath, they discovered a new branch of spellcasting which would ultimately become the roots of modern summoning, and utilized it to neutralize the power of the Warring Triad by imprisoning them, instead of defeating them outright. Victory over the eikons should have marked the end of conflict in Meracydia , but the southern continent was not yet willing to concede defeat. Devastated by her mate Bahamut's demise at the hand of the Allagans, the wyrm Tiamat endeavored to resurrect the dawn dragon in the same manner that the tribes of Meracydia summoned the eikons - as a deity. What rose from the ashes, however, was but a shade of the dusk wyrm's beloved Bahamut. Twisted with rage, the great wyrm unleashed his fury on the Allagans, erasing almost immediately any advantage the empire had seized.

Victory in Meracydia

Emperor Xande found great joy in the ever-changing tide of battle, and is claimed to have said that he never felt more “alive” than during the slaughter of the Meracydian campaign. He also believed that a man was only as strong as those he slew, and therefore would welcome the onslaught of his enemies with open arms, using them as opportunities to gain even more power. The war with Meracydia fueled the advancement of Allagan technology and deepened the empire’s knowledge of arcane magicks. Not only could a dragon or an eikon now be captured, but it could be tamed, controlled. Its very life essence could be tapped and used as a source of seemingly endless energy—a fate that ultimately befell the Warring Triad. In a breakthrough by the imperial mages, communion with voidsent was achieved, ultimately culminating in the signing of a pact between Emperor Xande and the selfproclaimed “ruler” of the void, the Cloud of Darkness. In exchange for an unlimited supply of vessels which would house the minions of the void, allowing them to remain in the corporeal realm, the emperor merely demanded that the voidsent fight for him on the shores of Meracydia. With each enemy slain, a new vessel would become available, allowing for the immediate summoning of a host and subsequent possession of the body. The more the undead army killed, the larger their ranks swelled, until not even the mighty Bahamut reborn could overcome their numbers. The great wyrm grew gradually weaker, as the crystals required to maintain his strength became scarce due to overharvesting, Unable to wield his former might, Bahamut was finally captured and fitted with neurolinks, effectively making him a tool of the empire, and putting an end to Meracydian campaign. The Allagan Empire had claimed yet another prize.

The Fourth Umbral Era

The Calamity of Earth

Meracydia had fallen and the empire was now the largest it had been in its entire history. The emperor, however, was unable to savor his victory overlong, War had quenched his lust for blood, but with its end came a sense of emptiness. Experiencing death had shown Xande the very limits of life, and he would no longer be satisfied with the mundanity of reigning in a time of peace. An obsession with slaughter and destruction tightened its grip on Xande's mind and slowly drove him to madness. His following orders would only serve to prove this.

The emperor bid the encapsulation of the neurolinked Bahamut in a massive iron sphere. The sphere would be launched into the heavens and set into motion around the moon, where it would use the wyrm's affinity to fire-aspected aether to gather energy from the sun in a form more concentrated than the weak rays which make their way to Hydaelyn's surface. With that energy, Xande would open a gate to the void the likes the world had never seen, and from beyond would he summon the very Cloud of Darkness herself so that she might rain her destruction upon the corporeal realm, eventually driving the world to that edge of death that the emperor longed to experience once again.

Unsurprisingly, very few Allagans shared the same twisted aspirations as Xande, and seeds of unrest quickly took root. Independent resistance cells joined together to form an army which drove the mad emperor and his few remaining loyalists out of the imperial palace and into the Crystal Tower. Unfortunately, this maneuver was too little too late. The satellite containing Bahamut was activated remotely by Xande, commencing the transference of aetherial energy. The voidgate would open soon.

Yet it never did, for Xande and his technologists had made a grave miscalculation. While the tower had been fortified to endure the increased energy flow, the land upon which it was built could not withstand the sheer force being applied to it. In a matter of moments, the ground began to crack , until it finally crumbled away, swallowing the Crystal Tower and Xande with it. The resistance's victory, however, was short - lived. The Crystal Tower's collapse triggered a chain reaction of tremblors which shook the entire realm, toppling mountains and literally tearing the land asunder. In mere moments, the Allagan Empire was laid to waste. Yet even as the Crystal Tower was sinking, Emperor Xande's most trusted aide, the technologist Amon, invoked powerful magicks and halted the flow of time within the structure. The tower and its denizens fell into a deep slumber.

Many of the Allagan Empire’s most dangerous experiments—including the creation of chimerical bioweaponry and the core components used in the Bahamut satellite—were conducted under a veil of secrecy at the maximum-security floating research complex known as Azys Lla.

Princess Salina's Legacy

With the Crystal Tower buried, a civilization which had almost completely relied on the tower's energy to function was plunged into utter chaos. Machines ground to a halt, lamps fell dark, lines of communication and transportation were severed. Those who served on artificially levitated employment sectors such as Azys Lla were suddenly trapped, the flow of supplies upon which they relied for the maintenance of their facilities dried up. Without the energy and manpower to keep them in check, the chimerical aberrations contained in these quarantined areas escaped their cages and soon turned on their creators. Realizing that control would not easily be regained, the floating islands were quickly abandoned by the remaining Allagans. They would remain uninhabited by all but the chimeras for five millennia until their rediscovery at the dawn of the Seventh Astral Era.

Though the worldwide calamity had claimed the lives of the majority of the empire’s population, including those of the royal bloodline, there was one descended from Xande the First who survived the quakes—the young Princess Salina. Sharp-witted for her age, the princess was quick to realize the true implications of the fall of the Syrcus Tower, and the fact that it had not truly been destroyed, only buried. While the spire served to trap the horrors within, it also served to preserve them. Lacking the means to destroy the tower, she instead chose to utilize the power that had been granted her via her ancestor's most unholy pact, for as long as the blood of the Xande line remained intact, there would ever be a force which could keep the Cloud of Darkness under control. Utilizing the remnants of Allagan biotechnology, Princess Salina transferred her bloodline and the power it held to a trusted ally with hopes that it would endure until it was again required. Proof of this power became known as the Allagan Eye and can still be seen today in many of those with ancestral ties to the Miqo’te Seeker of the Sun G tribe.

Ironically, it was another calamitous event that saw the re-emergence of the Crystal Tower from its five thousand year slumber. As for the horrors that lurked within, it was as Princess Salina had feared—Xande, Amon, and the Cloud of Darkness had not perished in their time buried beneath Hydaelyn. Fortunately, nor had the imperial bloodline, and through the efforts of the G tribe and a brave band of heroes, the threat of domination of evil was once again thwarted at the hands of those who were aware.

Unei and Doga

Seeking to raise Xande from the dead, the technologist Amon looked to the first emperor’s descendants. His subjects were Unei and Doga, two members of the royal bloodline. Using techniques perfected in his dark laboratories, Amon created dozens of copies of each. He called them “clones,” echoes of the original made flesh, yet lacking a soul. Thus, these experiments were put to use as weapons when Amon could glean no more from them.

Though Unei and Doga both supported the emperor's second ascension, they learned of his descent into madness with horror. They gave unto two clones their spirits, a measure for if they themselves failed to thwart the emperor. The clones are said to have been imbued with an unbending purpose: to end Xande’s unholy covenant. Before the original Unei and Doga could prevail, the Crystal Tower entered its eon-long slumber. When it awoke after the Calamity, so did the two clones within. Fortuitously, they then came upon a group of scholars calling themselves NOAH. After many trials and tribulations, it was this fellowship that saw an end to the first emperor and the fruit of his terrible ambitions.

The Forgotten Age

There exist almost no records of the years immediately following the fall of the mighty Allagan Empire. This dark period is loosely referred to as the Forgotten Age, for very little is known of how its people lived.

The Fourth Astral Era

The Fall of Civilization

From what information—mostly based in oral tradition—remains of the early Fourth Astral Era, blame for the fall of civilization was placed firmly on man’s lust for knowledge. The people deemed that the answers to life’s mysteries were best left with the gods. Pursuit of that which lies beyond man’s ken was seen as a sin, and that it was this covetousness that proved the impetus for his destruction. A widespread shunning of any and all manner of higher learning began. Books were burned and parents refrained from teaching letters to their children. Surviving Allagan technologies were destroyed, buildings were toppled or buried, and the learned—what few remained—were exiled or even killed. Civilization took a giant leap backward to a time not unlike the Second Astral Era. The pendulum had swung, and an era-long thirst for knowledge was quickly replaced with an unmoving fear in the heavens. Stories of the Allagan Empire survived now only in scripture, where the fallen civilization was reduced to a simple device used to teach lessons on the sin of hubris.

For approximately fifteen hundred years—a number long speculated, but only recently confirmed with the discovery of an operating expulsion node in Azys Lla placing the abandonment of the floating research complex at five thousand years ago—the silent war against knowledge continued, the church manipulating what knowledge (if any) trickled its way down to the masses. Religious leaders went even as far as introducing a new alphabet for their holy scriptures, taught only to men and women of the cloth, so as to solidify their control over the realm through the continued illiteracy of the common people. It is therefore ironic that this alphabet for the privileged would eventually evolve into the Eorzean script used throughout the realm today.

The Fifth Umbral Era

The Calamity of Ice

As is the case with nearly the entirety of the Fourth Astral Era, the great calamity which would end the period is also shrouded in mystery. Tribal legend and local folklore does, however, speak of a seemingly endless winter that brought with it bitter cold, raging snowstorms, and giant rivers of ice. Without the ability to grow crops, much of the population perished, or was forced to flee to the south and its more temperate climes. It is believed that for the years that encompassed the Fifth Umbral Era—or as it is also known, the Age of Endless Frost—much of the Bloodbrine Sea was frozen solid, on one hand preventing fishing and decimating the populations of sea life, but on the other, allowing for the migration of Miqo’te tribes from southern Ilsabard into northern Eorzea—tribes made up of descendants of the very same Miqo’te who were persecuted against and driven from Eorzea by the Allagan Empire almost two millennia earlier. The newly hardened seas of this frigid era provided the tribes with a means around the massive peaks of Gyr Abania that prevented their return in the Fourth Astral Era, and while there was little awaiting them in the rime-encrusted realm when they arrived, their uncanny ability in the hunt granted them a means of survival until the frost had melted.

It was not long after their return to the realm that the Miqo'te learned of the new Eorzean alphabet. Tribal seers were quick to claim that the fact the number of letters in that alphabet—twenty-six—directly corresponded with the exact number of Seeker of the Sun tribes that had made the journey across the frozen seas was most fortuitous, subsequently convincing the tribes that they should each take one of those letters into its name.

It is not uncommon even today for massive floating islands of ice to appear in the winter moons along Eorzea's northernmost coasts - the Farreach. In the Fifth Umbral Era, however, these frozen mountains were said to have appeared as far south as the Jade Sea.

The Age of Enlightenment

The Fifth Astral Era was an age of untold wonders, when the arcane arts burgeoned and the great civilizations that commanded such powers flourished. Alas, this age of enlightenment would not last. The War of the Magi brought the great floods of the Sixth Umbral Calamity, which swallowed once-proud nations and left naught but a battered wasteland in its wake."

- Nenekko Neko, Ul'dahn scholar

The Fifth Astral Era

Seeds of Magic

At the dawn of the Fifth Astral Era, as Eorzea was huddling in the bitter cold of the Endless Frost, the people of the realm once more beseeched the Twelve for warmth. It was during this time that a magnificent cathedral was built on the edge of the Black Shroud, a sanctuary where people would fervently pray to the gods and harness the power of their blessings through the use of magic. These rituals rose in prominence as a way for the survivors of the Fifth Calamity to cope with the era’s bleak prospects, and served as a driving force in the realm’s revitalization.

As the harsh climes subsided, the people once again set out across the realm. Small settlements grew into towns, then cities, each with their own unique culture. The universal worship of the Twelve splintered as the denizens of these communities sought to assert their newfound sense of identity by choosing patron deities to protect them. These widening differences in culture, religion, and approaches to the arcane arts would lead to intense contests for supremacy between nations.

The first Sanctum of the Twelve is believed to have been erected around the dawn of the Fifth Astral Era. After years of disuse, the original structure fell into ruin, overgrown by the thick brush of the Black Shroud and lying, forgotten until after the Seventh Umbral Calamity when it was unearthed and restored to its former glory. In the modern age, it also serves as a hall wherein the gods bear witness to the declaration of eternal bonds between lovers.

A Precursor to War

Fledgling cities emerged around the three-hundredth year of the Fifth Astral Era, and for the next two and a half centuries, the number of city-states would grow to twelve—each paying tribute to a unique god or goddess of the Eorzean pantheon. These city-states, however, lacked the stability of their modern-day counterparts, and the onset of the Age of Enlightenment was rife with turmoil, with territorial borders endlessly redrawn as smaller domains found themselves ravaged, divided, or integrated into larger populations. By the thousandth year of the Fifth Astral Era, the realm's sovereign nations numbered six, the most powerful of which would soon find themselves embroiled in conflicts of an entirely different scale.

Concerning the rise and fall of the early civilizations of the Fifth Astral Era, historians believe there is still much to be gleaned from yet - undiscovered relics that remain hidden within the shattered ruins of the fallen cities. The rush to salvage these priceless artifacts, however, has pit Eorzean scholars in pursuit of knowledge against the avarice of ruthless treasure hunters.

The Dark of Mhach

The lands of Yafaem are presently mired in an uninhabitable saltwater swamp, yet this was not always the case. When the icy winds of the Fifth Umbral Calamity abated, thawed snows trickled down from the northeastern mountains of Abalathia to form the White Maiden, which, in time, nurtured the soils of the lowlands. The region transformed into a fertile landscape, and it was near the five-hundredth year of the Fifth Astral Era that the region’s people came together to establish the city of Mhach.

At the time of its foundation, Mhach was merely one among twelve undistinguished city-states struggling to survive. The Amdapori were the dominant power, controlling a sizable portion of central Eorzea and wielding significant influence outside their immediate domain. The balance shifted drastically in Mhach’s favor around the year 800, however, when a sorceress by the name Shatotto came upon a ruinous form of magic. A tale passed down by practitioners of the art in the Order of Nald’thal claims it was Shatotto who first developed the ability to draw upon ambient aether to imbue her spells with deadly power. Thus did the realm witness the birth of modern black magic. The Mhachi used this newfound knowledge to bolster the strength of their army, and were successfully able to weather the tumultuous ebb and flow of feuds that reduced many other city-states to rubble, ultimately rising to become a substantial military power. The crumbled foundations of the city of Mhach can still be seen in Yafaem's brackish swamps - the enormous scale of the ruins evidence to the civilization's once - vast population. Rising waters, however, have since reclaimed the former home of the mages, reducing it to an uninhabitable wilderness.

Voidmagicks

Although the Mhachi were known masters of black magic, the extent of their power was not limited to Shatotto’s school of spellcraft. Toward the autumn years of the Fifth Astral Era, the civilization had begun perfecting voidmagicks—the summoning and manipulation of creatures known as “voidsent” from beyond the corporeal realm.

Historical defines the “void” as “An otherworld parallel to the one in which man dwells. Abnormal events can weaken the veil between worlds, tearing it asunder and allowing the voidsent to invade the material realm.These fiends have a depraved appetite, and seek our world merely to consume the aether it contains, allowing neither beast nor man to stand in their way.”

The mages of the Allagan Empire had previously experimented in forging covenants with the demons of the void in hopes of harnessing the creatures’ powers. The Mhachi expanded on this endeavor, adding extra protections to their experiments so as not to invite the same fate that befell the Allagans. To this end, the mages developed an occult device—the Nullstone—to preserve themselves and their city should a pact be broken. If a summoned voidsent refused to obey the master, a voidmage could smite the feral being using the Nullstone to sever its ties to the corporeal realm. It was in mastering this power that Mhachi came to believe in their civilization’s supremacy over all others, eventually driving them to war.

Powerful voidsent were brought to heel via the Nullstone, reducing them to naught more than strategic weapons for the Mhachi military. A mageby the name of Calofisteri combined the power of an aether-infused crystal with the ritual consumption of voidsent blood to achieve a twisted form of immortality, that she might guard this artifact from those who might seek to destroy it.

Creatures categorized in the upper rungs of the twelve-tiered voidsent hierarchy cannot pass through dimensional borders by way of an artificial tear. They instead require a willing vessel from the corporeal side, possessing their soul and entering the world by way of a “summoning.” The Nullstone has the capability to destroy that vessel and nullify the pact between it and the summoner, making it a powerful tool in maintaining control over even the most powerful of voidsent.

The Ancient City of Amdapor

At the dawn of the Fifth Astral Era, a group of Hyur arrived in what is now the South Shroud. The area in which they settled was an open plain interspersed with massive outcrops of light-colored rock, distinctly bereft of the thick forest cover now associated with the region. The abundance of stone allowed the Hyur to erect exceptionally sturdy structures, and by the year 300, central Aldenard had transformed into the bustling city of Amdapor. The people of Amdapor attempted to commune with the enigmatic elementals of the Black Shroud, that they might partake in the bounty of the forest. The elementals—ever untrusting of men—declined any interaction with their new neighbors, content with the distance between them. The Amdapori respected this wish and did not forcibly encroach upon the sacred holt, save for the occasional pursuit of quarry during a hunt. It is worth mentioning, however, that the elementals did not entirely shun outsiders during this period; amicable relations were maintained with the Ixali tribes, the elementals allowing them ingress into the Shroud upon deeming the beastmen no threat to the forest’s natural balance.

As their city-state prospered, the Amdapori focused on fortifying their domain, expanding their defenses by constructing an enormous stronghold atop a knoll outside the city proper. Paying reverence to Nophica, the goddess of abundance, they claimed to cherish harmony with nature, and promised their neighbors a peaceful coexistence. The societies in the surrounding vicinity benefited from this philosophy, and Amdapor was viewed not as a threat, but a respected elder watching over its eleven fellow cities. Thus did it come to be known as “the ancient city.”

The Discovery of White Magic

The Amdapori initially harnessed basic magicks for use in their city’s defenses, drawing and expanding upon the primitive knowledge of golem creation to temporarily imbue stone statues with life. However, in the ninth century, mages of the ancient city bore witness to Mhach’s use of the destructive arts to subjugate neighboring city-states. Wary of their neighbor’s ambitions, the Amdapori sought to counter these black magicks by improving upon their own spellcraft, Weaving with the intent to purify, ward, and heal—the art of white magic.

It has been argued that without the discovery of white magic, Amdapor would likely have succumbed to Mhach’s ambitions. That the ancient city had developed a means to keep the black mages in check prevented the Mhachi army from waging a full-fledged assault on Amdapor, lest they, too, suffer grievous losses. Thus for the next few centuries did Eorzea experience a fragile, yet lasting peace fostered by the precarious balance between the two nations and their opposing schools of magic.

Carved during the Fifth Astral Era, this winged lion is an ensorcelled stone guardian capable of manipulating white magic at its own will—a testament to the advancement of Amdapor’s arcane capabilities.

War on the Horizon

The peoples of Eorzea flourished in the peace brought about by the impasse between the black and white schools of sorcery. Following in the footsteps of Mhach and Amdapor, other city-states began developing their own forms of spellcraft in attempts to further their societies. This approach to the achievement of prosperity was vastly different than that taken by the Allagans of the Third Astral Era, eschewing technological growth for advancement of a more arcane nature. However, progress would come with a hefty price, as man would soon become drunk on the might that arcane puissance would bring him. Societies built upon foundations of magic were forced to sacrifice their natural surroundings as vast amounts of aether were drawn from the land in order to maintain the cities’ magnificence. The realm’s enlightenment had become a double-edged sword; each mage city maintained the facade of an edifying heritage while secretly honing their offensive magicks.

One need not be an oracle to see that this interlude of peace would soon draw to an end. The mages of Mhach silently turned their eyes to the dark, seeking to slake their expansionist ambitions by amassing an army of voidsent thralls. Amdapor kept their outward appearance as a rich bastion of arts and culture, but daunting sculptures of its “guardians” soon appeared in every corner of the city. While the actual catalyst for war remains lost to time, it is known that the frequency of political and military posturing between the two nations increased in dramatic fashion as the realm approached the mid thirteenth century, and ere long the entirety of Eorzea became entangled in an inescapable web of strife. The War of the Magi had begun.

The Floating City of Nym

Near the sixth year of the Fifth Astral Era, scores of Lalafellin sailors arrived on Vylbrand’s shores in longboats woven of reeds. Here, the mercantilists built a meager settlement on the southern part of the isle with hopes of establishing trade with the native kobold tribes. In time, their lonely outpost would grow into the maritime city of Nym.

Nym’s population was not as robust the other twelve city-states, but what the Nymians lacked in ascendancy they made up for in commerce, making full use of their consummate skills in seafaring. Nym’s sailors were a rough and rowdy lot, traits they used to their advantage in establishing the Royal Marines—a small, yet fearsome naval force that was placed in charge of the city’s defenses. Translations of Nymian records depict the Marines as axe-wielding marauders who would fight alongside a handful of talented mages who provided healing and support by way of their own uniquely developed brand of spellcraft. Despite their humble ranks, the Marines' tact proved their greatest strength—a great portion of Nym’s legacy alluding to legends of their fierce martial prowess. Even during the great war, the Royal Marines ensured that their small nation maintained its independence by valiantly repelling wave after wave of voidsent sent by the Mhachi across the Rothlyt Sound.

The Wanderer's Palace was a massive stone temple dedicated to the Nymians ' patron god, Oschon - ruler of the mountains and protector of vagrants . It appears to be coincidence that Vylbrand's indigenous kobold tribes also worshiped the mountains, revering Mt. O'Ghomoro as their sacred " mother, " but this commonality is believed to be why the Nymians were able to foster amicable relations with the beastmen.

The Nymian Plague

The War of the Magi raged for nigh on three centuries before Nym was stricken by a mysterious plague, severely crippling the city-state. One common theory used to explain how the scourge was spread involves a curious story concerning a band of Nymian sailors who had been cast adrift in the south seas after their ship was battered by a fearsome storm.

The disoriented seamen landed on a desert isle, where they met a native tribe of Lalafells, who nursed them back to health and mended their broken vessel so they might return safely to Nym. Before the traders disembarked, the islanders bestowed upon them a parting gift—an ornate amphora. Not long after the sailors returned to the floating city and presented the token of friendship, Nym’s people fell one by one to an incurable sickness heretofore unseen on Vylbrand. It was not until it was too late that Nymian scholars discovered the amphora to be part of an elaborate Mhachi plan that would see the unleashing of Bitoso—a pestilence-carrying voidsent summoned to Eorzea for the sole purpose of decimating the Nymian population.

Those who contracted the voidsent’s disease experienced disfiguring symptoms—their nose and ears melted away, their limbs shriveled, and their flesh turned a ghastly shade of green. Attempts to contain the plague included isolation of the infected, who were locked away within the Wanderer’s Palace—the sacred Nymian temple of Oschon. The Nymians remained wholly unaware of Bitoso’s cloaked presence, and even as the temple’s halls became filled with the sick and dying, the plague continued to spread. Panic over the Green Death eventually drove the city-state’s mages to their wits’ end, leaving them with no choice but to take drastic measures. In a last fit of desperation, the mages used their magicks to swell the land’s waters, sealing the Wanderer’s Palace as well as the fates of those trapped inside. Hysteria surrounding the plague would eventually consume the Nymians, leading their nation down the path of self-destruction. The Mhachi were ready to reap the seeds of destruction they had sown.

Bitoso’s ability to conceal his form left the Nymians guessing as to the actual cause of the plague that was consuming their city from within. By the time they had uncovered the truth, it was too late to save those who had fallen—both to the scourge itself, and at the hands of the mages who had sought to quell it.

Many of those afflicted with the Nymian plague were roused from a deep slumber when the protective barrier that for centuries had isolated the Wanderer’s Palace from the outside world was shattered by the fallen shards of Dalamud. With no knowledge of the plague and its disfiguring effects on the skin and extremities, those early explorers of the recently surfaced temple claimed the ruins to be inhabited by tonberries—mythical rancorous creatures believed to stalk the shadows of night in search of revenge.

The Battle of Amdapor

By the year 1510, the War of the Magi was nearing climax as the voidmages of Mhach pushed ever closer to Amdapor. Despite having stood for centuries, Amdapor Keep—the ancient city’s first line of defense—was quick to fall to Mhach’s fell army of otherworldly demons. With the gate to Amdapor lain open, the voidmages heralded their arrival in the city proper with the summoning of Diabolos, a high-ranking voidsent meant to seal Amdapor’s fate.

However, Mhach sorely underestimated the defensive magicks of Am-dapor. To withstand Diabolos and the minions under his unholy command, the white mages breathed life into the city’s most powerful stone guardians. Gathering their collective strength, the Amdapori were able to seal away the void prince, forcing the Mhachi to withdraw. Yet while the ancient city may have triumphed that day, it was a hollow victory, for it did little to stall the sun as it set on this once-great civilization. The era’s darkest hour was nigh.

The Mhachi march on Amdapor was not the sole cause of Eorzea’s downfall. Three centuries of ceaseless assault on the land had taken its toll, the drain of energies used to propagate war sending the realm’s elemental balance askew. This final battle was merely the straw which saw the balance break. Only after the dust settled did the people of Eorzea begin to truly notice the damage they had wrought. The realm’s most powerful seers were called to scry the realm’s future, but what they foresaw was darkness.

It was too late to amend their ways. A Calamity was upon them, and soon the waters would rise to purge the land of those who had ravaged her so.

Crafted and given life by the mages of Amdapor, Kuribu is one of many guardian statues erected around the city to counter the voidsent invasion. Using advanced techniques honed over centuries, the Amdapori were able to create a golem who had not only mastered martial artistry, but arcane spellcasting, as well.

The Mhachi had intended Diabolos to be their secret weapon in annihilating the Amdapori mages and toppling the ancient city. What they had underestimated was the desperation with which the white mages fought to defend their home, and the home of their children. Though many gave their lives in the task, Diabolos was eventually sealed deep beneath the city, and Amdapor was safe for a time.

Birth of the Grand Companies

Scholars and mages from all nations entreated their governments to (if not temporarily) set aside their differences and focus their attentions on the larger problem at hand. Monitoring of the realm’s aether indicated an unhealthy imbalance toward water, suggesting the manifestation of a Calamity-scale flood of epic proportions. The city-states’ leaders could not long deny the evidence laid before them, and though begrudgingly at first, soon began to pool their resources, hastily creating central command centers to first and foremost address the protection of civilians from the coming deluge. These emergency forces would later become known as the “Grand Companies.”

The Nymians, despite still reeling from the losses incurred by the plague, ordered their dwindled military forces out into the rising seas to construct an expansive floating net of protective wards dubbed Operation Maelstrom. Amdapor mobilized what remained of its military to commence the evacuation of the realm’s people north to the mountains of Abalathia’s Spine, abandoning the city so many had recently given their lives to defend.

The Ark of the Mhachi

As the Grand Companies of Mhach and Amdapor enacted their contingency plans to evacuate their citizenry to higher ground, the Mhachi were looking beyond the mountains—well beyond. Confident in their ability to control any and all monstrosities wrested from the void, the city-state began construction of an airship known as the “Ark,” designed to run on the dark energies of an entire legion of voidsent sealed within its hull. The rulers of Mhach envisioned that the floating sanctuary would carry entire families and their livelihoods—livestock, seeds, supplies—into the skies where they would wait in relative safety until the waters of the Calamity had receded.

Yet even with a myriad of mindless thralls at their disposal, the Ark still required a core powerful enough to see the vessel to the heavens. Thus the voidmages sought the power of a voidsent the likes of which they had never before summoned—a ruler from one of the highest tiers of the voidal hierarchy: Scathach, the Shadow Queen. Only a mage of strong mind could endeavor to control so potent a prisoner without use of the Nullstone, which, by this time, had been lost to the rising waters. The responsibility was ultimately given to Cessair Blackwind, a high voidmage of questionable repute and outspoken critic of the War of the Magi.

Upon learning of the Ark and the means by which the Mhachi mages sought to power the vessel, Cessair voiced her vehement disapproval of the plan, claiming it reckless at best, deadly at worst. However, the rising seas that had already begun to swallow the realm left her little choice, and she reluctantly agreed to helm the plan if only to save the lives of her people. Cessair and her cadre of fifty and three voidmages boarded the Ark and successfully contained within a complex network of interconnected coffins the energies of Scathach and more than fifty score voidsent. The vessel launched to the cheers of an entire nation—the hopes that their efforts would lead to the preservation of their society. The Ark and her passengers, however, were never to return.

Despite the peerless talent of Cessair and her cadre, the overwhelming power of the Shadow Queen could not long be contained. The mages’ grip on Scathach slowly loosened, and the lesser creatures under the queen’s command escaped their fetters. Free to roam the ship, the voidsent took full advantage of the tight quarters to make quick work of the Mhachi citizenry. Fearing that a complete loss of control was inevitable, the high voidmage and her loyal compeers chose to sacrifice their lives in one final attempt to redouble the seal on Scathach and return her minions to their coffins. With no surviving voidmages, the familiar Cait Sith was left alone aboard the masterless vessel as it wandered through the mists of the Sea of Clouds, where it has since been given a more ominous title—the Void Ark. The coffin displayed here is the massive stone cist believed to once contain Seathach, the Shadow Queen. A powerful voidsent, Scathach was summoned along with a thousand-strong army of lesser minions to serve as the Ark’s means of propulsion. The voidmages' efforts to control the queen and her servants, however, were met with disastrous results.

Advancements in airship technology achieved in the late Sixth and early Seventh Astral Eras have given rise to increased numbers of expeditions into skies unknown. Reports from the expeditions of sightings of a massive “ghost ship” drifting aimlessly in the Sea of Clouds gave rise to official investigations which, in turn, resulted in the rediscovery of Mhach’s forsaken Ark, lost some thousand and five-hundred years past.

Deep within the Void Ark’s hull are stowed seemingly endless rows of stone coffins. These sarcophagi were not, however, funerary vessels used to inter the remains of the vessel’s passengers, but containment units for voidsent summoned by the Ark’s architects. The coffins served as arcane foci to channel the dark energies of the creatures trapped within, and divert them to the Ark’s engines.

The Sixth Umbral Era

The Calamity of Water

As both scholar and seer scried, the realm’s elemental imbalance culminated in a far-reaching flood that eventually swept over Eorzea, and with the Calamity of Water did the Fifth Astral Era come to a close. Coastal towns were pummeled by tidal waves while rivers overflowed their banks, swallowing settlements and leaving inarable soils in their wake. The great city of Mhach was swallowed whole by a torrent the likes of which the realm had heretofore never experienced; the few who remained drowned as they cast their eyes and hopes heavensward, content in the belief that the Ark would see the glory of their people endure. Those who had the sense to retreat to higher ground would return to Yafaem to learn they were the inheritors to a wasteland of salt-clogged swamps where even the hardiest of weeds refused to take root, let alone crops with which one might sustain a family.

The few remaining Nymian citizens who had not been touched by the Green Death evacuated north into the mountainous regions of outer La Noscea, as the Royal Marines commenced their ambitious Operation Maelstrom. While the Grand Company was successful in turning, back the largest of swells, the mages were unable to prevent the scores of sub-sequent waves from pulverizing their coastal city-state. Lands reclaimed by the sea were reduced to rocky reefs, leaving nary an holm to which Nym’s few survivors might return. As most of their lands' energies had been exhausted in their efforts to seal Diabolos, there was little remaining for Amdapor’s white mages to draw upon to stay the waters which had already enveloped the territories held by Nym and Mhach. The alternative was a hurried exodus into the highlands of Gyr Abania before the deluge reached the ancient city. The region abandoned, the elementals, who had quietly borne witness to the Amdapori people’s rapacious consumption of the land’s aether, saw to it that the city remnants be devoured in thick, sorcerous brush not long after the waters receded, thereafter preventing ingress into Amdapor. Thus did the ruins remain hidden from mortal eyes until the elementals’ glamours were dispelled during the Seventh Calamity.

It could be said that the greatest of Eorzea’s magical civilizations succumbed to a chaos of their own contriving, yet it would be misguided to conclude that the entirety of mankind was beyond redemption for the sins of a few. Amidst the strife of the Calamity and the subsequent Sixth Umbral Era, legends have long told of the advent of a band of saviors known as the Twelve Archons, who helped to warn the people of impending doom and provide salvation to countless scores in their time of need. Without champions such as these, the path to the Sixth Astral Era may have been longer and more fraught with peril than it actually was.