On the night of the Upbringing, a man stood on the great cliffs of Perdition. Upon these cliffs, the man gazed up at the night sky, watching the stars. Within the many constellations, the man gazed at one cluster of stars with particular interest. There were twenty stars in totality, none of which taking up a position to form any shape in particular. It was simply a cluster of stars, and for this reason the constellation was called Esviga'tten, or The Enigma.
The man wore a dark wool cloak, made from the wool clipped off of the sheep of the Varcis Valley people, a clan of sheep-herders, and dyed a deep, dark black, equivalent to that of the pupil of the great raven. Sewn along the cloak were designs of the clearest white of symbols unknown to modern man, for these were antediluvian times long forgotten by the scrolls of history.
As the man stared at the stars, fixated by their vastness and beauty, and yet stern with no emotion on this face due to the task at hand. Tonight was the only night for which the ceremony could be held, and he must make haste before his time was up. He reached under his cloak and withdrew a horn filled to the brim with a dark, bubbling liquid.
He pulled the cover off of the horn and held his arm out. He held the horn a few inches above his arm and gently tipped it so a drop of the bubbling liquid escaped from its container onto his bare flesh.
Instantly the spot where the drop met his skin began to blister and bubble of its own accord, the searing pain shooting up the man's arm, but his face staying motionless. Soon the burn began to twitch and turn black, the blackness morphing and growing as his arm soon began to be covered in strange, black symbols.
The man cast his gaze back to the stars and cried out in a voice neither human nor beast: "Ishmaak di lak'sen bilmyr Valken!"
His arm erupted in a burst of flames that spread and engulfed his entire body in an instant. He emitted no scream, nor any sound at all as his body was consumed by the hellfire. The flames burned for minutes without a sign of stopping, and then just as suddenly as they burst into life, they dissipated into nothingness, leaving the cliffside as dark as it was before, with only the light of the stars to give any indication of its existence.
Within the darkness, all that could be heard was the stillness of the air, disturbed by the sound of heavily beating wings, and if one were to look up at The Enigma, they would soon see some of the stars blocked from view as some unknown object flew overhead, and then disappeared again. The night continued on as if nothing happened.
The next night, a man stood on the cliffs of Perdition and stared up at the stars. His gaze flowed from one constellation to the next, marveling at the vast beauty before him. His eyes then stopped at a particular cluster of stars: The Enigma, a constellation not making any shape or form of anything in particular. A simple cluster of twenty-one stars.
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