On the once vibrant worlds and planets that the Etherna had conquered, life was rapidly fading.
The lush trees withered and crumbled, the forest looks like graveyard and life scattered in a sorrowful exodus.
Even stars and celestial bodies seemed to lose their brilliance.
The bleak curse of the Creator had affected them profoundly.
The Etherna, once capable of bearing offspring, were now plagued by the curse.
Pregnancies ceased among their kind.
Attempts to create life through powerful magic were equally futile; the resulting children had no souls, and death swiftly claimed them, shrouding their existence in misfortune and darkness.
For several years now, no new Etherna child had come into being.
This disheartening truth haunted Borgan's thoughts as she watched her brothers and friends converse, the weight of the plight of her race pressing heavily upon her heart.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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