SELAVYTH

What Selavyth was in the first age is no longer known with certainty. Her
name survives only in half-legible prophecies, damaged observatory records,
and warnings copied and recopied until meaning and warnings were replaced
with myth. The few references to a pale herald that walked beneath
Dyphrities. But once the moon vanished from the skies so did Selavyth.
Whether she was first a priestess, chosen vessel, or servant has long been
lost beneath the weight of three thousand years.

Selavyth is not Dyphrities itself, or any crude piece of celestial matter
clothed in flesh, but as its will and omens given form. She is its herald,
its handmaiden and chosen avatar in the mortal world. A sign that the presence
of Dyphrities has always meant more than a curiosity. Through her the moon is
understood not as just a heavenly body, but as influence moving upon the
world below.

After three millennia of absence, Selavyth is remembered less as a figure of
simple death than as an omen of its approach. She is not bloodshed or brutal
ruin but instead a quieter shape of endings, the omen before failure, a held
breath before disaster, a dream that lingers after waking, or the certainty
that destruction is unavoidable. She is the Harbinger of the Starless Tide,
the old warnings no longer seem like superstition, but memories waiting to be
recognized.