The ancient skies of Arak were once shared by three gods...
Rukhmar was strong, youthful and ambitious. She flew higher, ever higher, for she loved to feel the sun's warmth upon her feathers. She would climb until she caught fire, but she did not burn. The flames cascaded off of her in long stokes of brilliant red and gold.
The sky was her canvas, and her children were the kaliri.
Anzu was physically meager, but possessed a great intellect. He preferred the cool of the shade and the peace of the twilight hours where he could be alone in quiet contemplation. He would converse with the gods of the abyss, and he would find them dull, witless creatures.
His down was an inky midnight, and his children were the dread ravens.
Sethe was cold-blooded and scornful. When he flew, the wind bit his flesh. He would sun himself on the mountainsides, but he could never taste warmth.
His scales were frosted glass, and his children were the wind serpents.
Sethe coveted the favor of the wind and the warmth of the sun. He persuaded Anzu to help him slay Rukhmar and take the sky for themselves.
But Anzu was cunning, and cared little for the wind serpents. In the dark of night, he sent a raven to warn Rukhmar of Sethe's intentions.
Anzu watched from the top of a mountain spire as Rukhmar and Sethe clashed.
Sethe struck exactly as Anzu had warned, and Rukhmar avoided him with ease. She flew high, put the sun at her back, and dove at Sethe.
Rukhmar's talons found Sethe's head with ease. With a great flap of her wings, she split the very sky upon him like the crack of a whip.
Sethe crashed into a spire with such force that it crumbled and fell around him.
In a flash, Anzu fell upon Sethe, pinning him underfoot.
Looking up at the raven god, Sethe uttered a dying curse:
"My blood shall blacken the sea until it runs thick as tar! My flesh shall fester and spoil until the very sky rots with it!"
Anzu replied, "Then we shall leave no blood nor flesh."
He feasted on the writhing wind serpent and picked the bones clean.
Only a small trickle of blood managed to escape the broken spire and blight the valley below.
Soon Anzu felt Sethe's hatred coursing through him. His back twisted. His wings became weak. His mind was wracked with painful visions.
The raven god had contained Sethe's curse by taking it upon himself.
Anzu would grapple with the curse for some time before retreating to the shadows.
Rukhmar, terrified of the curse, would never land in Arak again. She would fly far away to new lands, and create a new race of people to command the skies - a people who would combine her power and grace with the guile and thirst for knowledge of Anzu.
She called them Arakkoa, in hopes that one day they would return to Arak to bask in the wind and sun as she once had.