Thousands of years before history was recorded, a man traveled from the East horizon across to the West. He saw great natural wonders and small tribes of people. With every new sight, every new experience, he wove a unique tale; tales he would tell to every open ear, and each sleepy tree. These tales told the stories of the world, and connected every living being to a common home.
When communities evolved into nations and kingdoms, a woman traveled from the West horizon across to the East. She saw the great advancements of humanity, and the terrible destruction of war. With each event, she wove a unique tale; tales not always accepted, but heard none the less. These tales explained how every living being shares the same mother. Each individual a part of a greater whole.
As humanity flourished, a person traveled from the South horizon across to the North. They heard of grand aspirations, and powerful desires. With each tale, they added to those passed before, weaving a tapestry of a people, with a great ambition.
Stories of The Taleweaver are less common today, very few remember their chronicles. Those who still tell of their history know, not every tale must have an ending, to serve a purpose. The Taleweaver, in all their time, saw two paths at the fork in the road: one that leads to unity, the other to degradation.
But those are only tales, and tales are dynamic.