The Carnival of Candles
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insert short blurb here
Here, life neither blossoms nor wanes. Everything remains the same— exactly the same— as it always has been, and as it always shall be.
They say the carnival first appeared on the outskirts of Light territory, close to the Shadowbinder’s realm. Perhaps it is through her, and the strange magic imbuing her sunken land, that the carnival came to be.
Not much is known about it— it is shrouded in myth and legend, passed down through whispers in the dead of night to young hatchlings— a fairytale, a distant dream. Sometimes it is a circus, other times a carnival. Sometimes young hatchlings sleep dreaming about the ringmaster’s hypnotic gaze, her blue eyes, endless and empty like the ocean. Other times, they are certain the ringmaster is male, a mysterious nocturne, with a melodious voice like sticky honey. It is a story as old as time, and it is one that will continue to be told as long as hatchlings whisper tales in the dark of the night.
Only one thing remains the same: the carnival has never been found in the same location within the Hewn City. As the moon sets, and night gives way to day, the carnival always inexplicably disappears, only to be found again, somewhere else on the other side of the city.
Time moves strangely within the carnival. Within it, no hatchlings are ever born, and no dragons ever die, or even seem to age. Life and death seem to have been held at bay by some strange enchantment laid over the land. Being there is like living through one long dream, or walking in a snapshot in time, frozen forever more. Here, nobody ever sleeps, and those who stay there long enough don’t ever appear to take a breath, as though they no longer have a need for breathing. Sometimes visitors can stay there for what feels like months, taking their time enjoying the acts within every tent, only to emerge finally, to find that only a single night has passed.
With all the different tales and stories about it, it’s hard to differentiate fact from fiction. This is the real truth behind the Carnival of Candles, of the denizens living within it.
Lore inspired, in no small part, by Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus, Stephanie Garber’s Caraval, and Erika Swyler’s The Book of Speculation, all of which are better books than I could ever aspire to write.
~
This is a long-term lore project I will be taking on, partially because writing clan lore is something I’ve always wanted to do ever since I’ve joined, and partially because I wanted to practice writing. :)
insert fancy header here
insert short blurb here
Here, life neither blossoms nor wanes. Everything remains the same— exactly the same— as it always has been, and as it always shall be.
They say the carnival first appeared on the outskirts of Light territory, close to the Shadowbinder’s realm. Perhaps it is through her, and the strange magic imbuing her sunken land, that the carnival came to be.
Not much is known about it— it is shrouded in myth and legend, passed down through whispers in the dead of night to young hatchlings— a fairytale, a distant dream. Sometimes it is a circus, other times a carnival. Sometimes young hatchlings sleep dreaming about the ringmaster’s hypnotic gaze, her blue eyes, endless and empty like the ocean. Other times, they are certain the ringmaster is male, a mysterious nocturne, with a melodious voice like sticky honey. It is a story as old as time, and it is one that will continue to be told as long as hatchlings whisper tales in the dark of the night.
Only one thing remains the same: the carnival has never been found in the same location within the Hewn City. As the moon sets, and night gives way to day, the carnival always inexplicably disappears, only to be found again, somewhere else on the other side of the city.
Time moves strangely within the carnival. Within it, no hatchlings are ever born, and no dragons ever die, or even seem to age. Life and death seem to have been held at bay by some strange enchantment laid over the land. Being there is like living through one long dream, or walking in a snapshot in time, frozen forever more. Here, nobody ever sleeps, and those who stay there long enough don’t ever appear to take a breath, as though they no longer have a need for breathing. Sometimes visitors can stay there for what feels like months, taking their time enjoying the acts within every tent, only to emerge finally, to find that only a single night has passed.
With all the different tales and stories about it, it’s hard to differentiate fact from fiction. This is the real truth behind the Carnival of Candles, of the denizens living within it.
Lore inspired, in no small part, by Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus, Stephanie Garber’s Caraval, and Erika Swyler’s The Book of Speculation, all of which are better books than I could ever aspire to write.
~
This is a long-term lore project I will be taking on, partially because writing clan lore is something I’ve always wanted to do ever since I’ve joined, and partially because I wanted to practice writing. :)
