Mertra Mertra: The Twin Flame of the Forgotten World

In the forgotten world of Elarion, where the skies were once a tapestry of shifting colors and the lands pulsed with ancient magic, the name Mertra Mertra was more than just a legend — it was a force of nature. Whispered among old druids, carved into the roots of silverwood trees, and echoed in the dreams of prophets, Mertra Mertra was the name of two souls bound in a single destiny, two reflections of a deeper truth.

To say that Mertra Mertra was one person would be to miss the essence entirely. The name referred to the twin embodiments of balance and chaos, two divine beings born of the same celestial fire, yet split at the moment of creation. Where one brought order, the other summoned storm. Together, they formed the foundation of Elarion’s delicate equilibrium.

The Origin of Mertra Mertra

According to the First Songs of Eluvië, an ancient text written in starlight and preserved in the Vault of Valaari, the universe began with a single heartbeat — a pulse of sound that birthed both light and shadow. From this primal resonance came Mertra, a singular being of unimaginable power. But Mertra could not exist alone, for the pulse of creation demanded balance. In a blinding flash of creation, Mertra split into two: the first Mertra, the Weaver, and the second Mertra, the Unraveler.

The Weaver, soft-spoken and calm, shaped the lands, carved the rivers, and brought harmony to the wild currents of energy that flowed through the world. The Unraveler, fierce and radiant, unleashed the storms, shattered mountains to form valleys, and spread the seeds of chaos that would eventually evolve into life.

Together, they became Mertra Mertra, the dual goddess-deity-force whose presence defined the spiritual essence of Elarion.

The Age of Union

During the Age of Union, Mertra Mertra walked the lands in harmony. Great cities rose in their honor, and temples made of moonstone and dragonbone housed twin shrines where devotees offered prayers to both aspects. Each shrine had two altars — one bathed in sunlight, the other cloaked in shadows. The clergy of Mertra Mertra, known as the Dual Flame Order, understood that both forces were necessary. Too much order, and the world would become stagnant. Too much chaos, and it would collapse into oblivion.

This era was marked by unparalleled prosperity. The twin flames of Mertra Mertra burned in every capital, guiding kings and queens, lighting the sacred texts, and fueling the forges of magical artifacts. Music composed in their honor became the universal language. It was said that when sung at twilight, the hymns could stop time itself — the moment between day and night being the space where Mertra Mertra’s full presence could be felt.

The Sundering

But as with all balances, there came a tipping point.

In the 5th century of the Age of Union, a growing sect called The Pure Flame emerged. They worshipped only the Weaver, believing order to be the only path to enlightenment. They saw chaos as corruption, and the Unraveler as a malevolent entity. Their influence spread quickly through the high courts of the continent, turning once-loyal followers against the sacred duality.

In retaliation, a shadowy brotherhood known as the Veil of Storms, loyal only to the Unraveler, began to strike at temples and holy sites, blaming the world’s suffering on blind submission to order. Violence swept across the lands, and soon the world was divided.

This Great Schism culminated in the event known as The Sundering, when both aspects of Mertra Mertra were drawn into direct conflict for the first time in existence. Their clash shattered the sky for three days. Stars fell like rain. Oceans turned to mist. Mountains crumbled into dust.

When the battle ended, both aspects vanished.

The Silence of the Flames

MERTRA of The Sundering, the flames of Mertra Mertra’s temples flickered and died. Magic became erratic. The great cities fell. What followed was an age known only as The Silence. For a thousand years, Mertra Mertra did not speak. No visions came to the prophets. No signs adorned the heavens.

Many believed Mertra Mertra had perished — a divine suicide brought on by the world’s inability to maintain balance. Others believed the twin entities had merged again into one form, too powerful and mysterious for mortals to perceive.

Despite this, scattered followers of the old ways preserved the teachings. Hermits in the Crimson Wastes, monks atop the Peaks of Volir, and ancient archivists in the depths of the lost city of Yelka maintained the sacred hymns and rituals. The belief persisted that Mertra Mertra would one day return — not as gods walking the earth, but as ideas reborn in mortal hearts.

The Return of Balance

In the present era, known as the Age of Echoes, the signs of Mertra Mertra’s return have begun to stir.

Twin comets crossed the sky on the solstice. Children are being born with heterochromatic eyes — one gold, one black — a mark said to signal a soul touched by the dual flame. New songs are being heard in the winds, eerily reminiscent of the lost hymns of the Union Age.

In the city of Velanthir, a girl named Sera Veltrin has begun preaching a new doctrine — not of division, but of embrace. Her teachings describe Mertra Mertra not as separate deities to be balanced, but as one force that must be experienced fully: to create and destroy, to love and rage, to build and break. Already, her following grows, and strange phenomena follow her passage — fire that sings, storms that weep, and dreams that show glimpses of the twin deities reuniting.

The Legacy of Mertra Mertra

Whether myth, metaphor, or memory, Mertra Mertra continues to live on — not as gods, but as the symbol of life’s truest nature: duality.

In the deepest sense, Mertra Mertra is the human spirit itself — full of contradiction, full of power. We are each Weaver and Unraveler. We are each creation and destruction. And in embracing both, we become whole.