The world had seen chaos, rebirth, and awakening. Now it demanded structure. Afterlight was no longer a wilderness of survivors, prophets, and beasts. It was a crucible. The scattered settlements had begun to cluster, drawn by trade, faith, and fear. What once were camps of wanderers became cities with names. And with names came pride, law, and ambition.
At the center of it all stood Atheron, the first true city of the new age. It rose from the ruins of an ancient capital, rebuilt by hands that sought permanence. The rivers that once carried corpses now carried silver and salt. The markets thrived with goods—scraps of the old world reworked into tools for the new.
But beneath that prosperity lay tension.
The Council of Dawn—those who had followed Eryndor, Althia, and the Flameborn—had grown in power. They claimed to speak for the gods who had shaped Afterlight's rebirth. They enforced their will through scripture and sanctity. Across the river, another order rose: the Architects of the Sun. They believed no god guided this new world. Humanity, they said, must rule through reason and discipline, not faith.
Both sides built temples and halls. Both recruited zealously. And both feared the other.
Eryndor watched this division unfold with quiet despair. He had dreamed of unity, not dominion. He saw how easily people took faith meant for hope and twisted it into control. The fires of rebirth had given life, but now they threatened to burn civilization again.
One evening, he stood atop Atheron's highest tower. Below him, the city shimmered with lanterns—an ocean of lights in motion. Althia joined him, her eyes reflecting the glow.
"They have learned to rebuild," she said softly. "That was what we wanted."
"They have learned to rule," Eryndor replied. "That was not."
"You knew they would. Even in the old world, order always grew from conflict."
"Yes," he murmured. "But never without cost."
The first sparks of war were already forming. Disputes over land, trade, and faith turned into skirmishes. Messengers vanished between cities. The northern frontier burned as both sides tried to claim the same fertile valley. Refugees arrived at Atheron's gates daily, whispering of atrocities committed in the name of gods or logic.
It was Althia who proposed the impossible.
"We create a code," she said. "Not divine, not mortal. A law older than either."
Eryndor frowned. "And who enforces it?"
"Both," she answered. "Neither."
And thus began the founding of the Codex of Dawn.
The Council gathered philosophers, priests, and soldiers. For forty days they debated under the twin suns. The first ten laws were written in stone, the rest in fire. No side won every argument. The gods would not be worshipped through violence. Reason would not rule through cruelty. Justice would be blind to faith and birth.
When the Codex was finished, Atheron's bells rang across the land. Messengers spread its words to every known city. For the first time since the Fall, there was law—not the rule of fear, but of principle.
Yet peace was not granted by decree.
Far to the west, a new power stirred. The Ashborn legions, remnants of the old world's armies, had survived in isolation. Hardened by centuries, they saw Afterlight's rebuilding as weakness. They carried machines and relics untouched by divine flame. Their leader, General Vaen, swore to reclaim the old dominion by force.
When news of their march reached Atheron, the Codex had barely dried on its stone tablets.
Eryndor gathered the council once more.
"If this order fails its first test," he said, "it was never an order at all."
The city prepared. The fires of civilization, once gentle, burned bright again—not to destroy, but to defend. For the first time in the new world, nations rose under a single banner. Not of faith, not of conquest, but of survival under the dawn's light.
And thus began the War of Binding.
It would decide not only who ruled Afterlight, but whether the fragile order born from ruin would endure—or collapse back into chaos once more.
The first dawn had brought life. The second would test its worth.